My other Norwegian family

Until now, all of my Norway adventure has involved my paternal grandmother's family (formor), but my dad's father (forfor) is also Norwegian, though born in the US. Before I got married, I was a Halversen. Which is normally spelled Halvorsen in Norway. Family legend has it that grandpa changed the spelling to be first in the phone book, a benefit for his barber business. It would be just like him to do that, but I don't think he was ever in business in a town with tons of other Halvorsens. Another mystery.

And then when my dad's brother Rudy was born, the hospital filled out his birth certificate as Rudolph Halverson (Swedish spelling) so I have 4 cousins with a different name.

If you read Norwegian family trees prior to mid-1800, you see that Harald Thommsen is father to Thorlief Haraldsen and so on, with an occasional reference to a town or locale thrown in. More mysteries for genealogists to wrestle with.

I find that both currently and historically Americans spell and pronounce names however it suits them. So in an obituary printed after my great grandfather Tom's death they spell his name with 'son' and 'vor' randomly mixed with 'sen' and 'ver' - but we're pretty he was a Halvorsen.

When my grandfather was born in Wisconsin, his name was Sivert, like in the old country. But various written records identify him as Sever (more like Sivert sounds when spoken). For the life of me I can't remember what's on his headstone, just that my dad corrected, it seemed, whichever version I guessed.

So it was no surprise really that when last Friday I went to meet 19 relatives from that side of the family, none were names I knew, let alone Halvorsens. I had been given one name and email address by my dad's 97-year-old cousin Irene. That led me to Sigmund Myklevold, who arranged a day trip to Førde, where some 40 set sail for America in 1858, leaving behind another branch (really the trunk) of the family tree. Sigmund's sister Helene hosted a gathering of 19 relatives of varying age, many of whom had visited or lived in the US. We had coffee and a classic spread of cheese, fish, eggs and meat with bread and rolls.

After we ate, Sigmund and his cousin Ingeborg (she was our driver the whole trip) took me to see the place my great grandfather lived as a small boy, and the fjord they set sail from.

Sigmund promises to send me a more detailed family tree. My grandpa Sivert died when I was 7, so my knowledge even of those in the US is sketchy at best. They were delightful to meet, though and welcomed me as one of their own.