HEAVENLY CHARIOT

We built an eagle's nest in the oak behind the barn

Late winter 1952 we hovered long and loud. It was the Olympics in Oslo and as far as I remember enthroned Norwegians on top of the victory podiums in every sport branches that mattered in our world.

In mid-May came the heat, and the trees were green in Hasselnøttlia and migratory birds returned and sang with full throat, and we tapped the sap of the earliest birches and drank greedily of the half-filled bottles. And in competition with magpies in a spruce tree down at Grandma in Nyhus, we built our "eagles nest" in a high oak that stood on the triangle against Hasselnøttlia.

The first years had the oak grown long and ailing in the shadow of the barn. Proper crown and foliage was only when it reached up into the sunshine. But then it grew far beyond the barn roof.

There were little branches below the tree, so these were replaced with "claim clamps" that we periodically nailed up the stem. Thus was all ready to start this major project; building cottage in oak tree, a real "eagle's nest" for guys boys. It was a daring work, but everything went well, and a few weeks later we hoisted wreath over corrugated iron roof and ate cake down the yard with parents and siblings.

Overview between good neighbors

An eagle's nest in the top of a solitary tree has a strategic weakness; if one becomes a victim of the siege, one has no retreat option - then sitting one in Scissors. Our three were particularly vulnerable when the enemy could only knock down climb clamps at the bottom - and then go away.

For days we sat upstairs in the Eagle's Nest and pondered retreat problem and envied magpies in grandmothers spruce tree who only took to the wings. The thought of a winged solution with glide seemed alluring, but it belonged to category "High voltage danger." A more moderate solution we found accidentally in a brochure father had left in the cabinet in the living-resistant. It was a picture rich publication he had brought from the trip with Axel Aubert to Rjukan. There had the Director General ensured that it was built a cable car from the valley floor and up the mountainside, allowing residents of Rjukan could move up the sun during the winter.

We took a collection with Harald in Garden and discussed the matter in depth. He was two years older than us and knew about a little of each. Our thought was never to construct a gondola orbit that could carry us up the tree. No, the strategic solution was to construct a surprising escape route down from the Eagle's Nest. And it was a much easier task and had to be arranged with limited technical means. All we needed was a rope, a suspension and a gondola wagon.

Tau and suspension were okay and provide; a new 30 meter long hemp rope was just purchased for the salmon seine, and a sliding hoop we could use a “hegde” or sheep enclave. Worse was to find something resembling a gondola wagon. It had to be as light weight as possible for a heavy gondola would crash into the post at high speed.

A hegde of juniper.

Harald in Garden, who had just borrowed "Five weeks in balloon" by Jules Verne from the bookcase behind in the classroom by Thorvald Haugeland, came with a brilliant idea: "A balloon basket," he said excitedly, staring through foliage on a white cloud that drifted past, "a balloon basket made of wicker plant real and easily as a magpie."

"Brilliant idea, Harald," I said and thumped him in the back, "but ... but do we know someone who knows the art of plaiting balloon basket?"

"Yep," said Harald, "Anne Larsen in road bend. She weaves at least baskets to wine balloons. "

"Steike!" said Kjell, in his laconic way. So we climbed down and threw us on bikes.

Harald led the arrival in the yard of Anne Larsen. He knew her best when she every spring helped Harald & putting potatoes and every autumn with record crop. We rolled past the low windows of the old longhouse of her, where we glimpsed the head watchmaker Kalhovd who sat behind the living room window with monocle and repaired watches, and just off the chopping block in the backyard where Anne had cleanup on her twig pile.

"What are you looking for?" She asked with a hint of wonder in her voice.

"Well, we were wondering if you can make balloon basket for us," said Harald.

"No, far from it," said Anne, "you are far too young to add wine."

"But …, you misunderstand," said Kjell, "it is not to wine balloons but a basket of such a balloon that sails in the air under the white clouds - we will use the curve gondola down from the Eagle's Nest."

Anne Larsen looked now like a question mark, but after some explanations and forth and streaking with a stick in the gravel in the yard, she realized drawing.

For Anne was a sharp one, and it was we who were green punks, especially when it came to negotiation about price.

"I can make a basket that is large enough that two men can fit in it, but there's a lot of work and will take a long time - at least five days. Give me fifty kroner, so we have a deal. "

"Fifty kroner?" Said Kjell thunderstruck and turned to the bike; "We have not." I supported dumbfounding viewpoint and beat specified out with my hands: "The only thing we earn money nowadays is to sell cherries to car-tourists. We get 25 øre for a triangle bag cherries. So we have to sell, er ... two hundred bags until we have earned fifty kroner. It is not possible! Rogalendingene is not that hungry for cherries".

But as soon as Anne Larsen realized that we "waded" in mature cherries, she hip left shoulder and had the solution ready: "If you come with a ten-potty-pail filled with cherries on Wednesday, the gondola cart stand ready. But then you must promise to come on the back of the barn so Kalhovd not can see what goes on. I want this winemaking in peace. "

"It's a deal," said Kjell. "Oh Yess," I said, "we will do like requested." And Anne looked brighter in existence, and with a new hip on the left shoulder she continued the work with her sprig ax.

At supper we told Mom and Dad about the agreement with Anne Larsen and the proposed gondola down from the Eagle's Nest, and the mother stood a bit dubious to her son’s raw material deliveries to winemaking in Vestigarden, but our father saw only positive that they in Vestigarden consumed wine of cherries instead of the hazardous fluid they otherwise shrouded therein.

Father also came with a useful input. "At the terminus should rope tied in the middle of a horizontal boom that is attached to one end of the barn wall, and at the other end placed between two X-shaped logs." He showed with forefingers what he meant, and continued: "The boom means that the caravan ends up in a free pendulum movement - as in swing sets. A single vertical end post will be mortally dangerous. "

Anna Kvavik was our good neighbor. She had a pedal organ and a good eye for Kjell who she believed had the talent to become an organist in Lyngdal church.

It was therefore natural that Kjell was talker when we next morning knocking on her back door and asked her to come out into the yard to look at a case we had to talk about. And she was aflame when Kjell told about the projected cable car from our oak and down to a terminus on the edge of the her backyard. Anna could not forget how nice it had been when Bianca strangled the infamous concentrates-rat that had bitten Thorvald in hand, and asked us to notify her when the path should be used.

Kjell was born with a mind for older ladies lonely days and promised that since we got set up crosslogs on her due, we could always conduct a new "acting" behind in the yard of her. Anna was so excited and promised to make buns and lemonade to all onlookers that might come.

A few days later were both "terminus" and "home station" established and the rope was stretched tight and a “hegde” strung catching up. Now only gondola that was missing and we picked ripe black cherries and slithered and waited for Wednesday would come, and it did it finally and swap with Anne Larsen went into box. The gondola was hung up in hegde with rope from each corner, and a sturdy fishing line was hooked firmly behind the gondola so that we could stand up in the tree and crank this tilting back.

We test-drove the gondola wagon once for each of us, and I knew well how it tickled my stomach when curvatures plunged downhill, and although it was a little crank up and down the "terminus", everything went as planned.

All in all we would have been very satisfied with the way things are if it had not been for the thoughtless promise to erect a "spectacle" in Anna’s backyard.

I knew well how it tickled my stomach when curvatures plunged downhill...

On Saturday, when Ludvig came home from teaching certificate school in Kristiansand, we shared our concern with him. And it was wise. For after looking at the new facilities in Anna’s backyard, he was aflame and took over most of the responsibility for the script and instruction. Heaviest was to persuade Tordis and Laila to participate in important leading roles, but finally they gave in - and got mother involved in creating costumes. Kjell and I borrowed two well-worn white shirts of the father, but the rest of the costumes had to arrange ourselves.

Last weekend in June used father and mother holding a garden party when they were both born on that time of year. What could fit better than combining this with a theater performance in neighboring Anna? In any case matched the fine for Anna, and it was important. I wrote a piece with crayons that were fastened on the pole over the shared mailbox in Austigarden:

Theater Imagination

by Anna Kvåvik Sunday, June 30, 1952 at 5 o’clock.

Catering. Free admission. Small collect to Zuloland and Cina.

ALL wery Welcome !!!

The patch was diligently read and commented on by many, and postman and emissary Georg Drageland thought almost that he would come.

Sunday dawned with glorious weather, and nerves were on edge already when we before noon rigged in place scenes.

Ludvig had come home with last bus from Kristiansand, so there was little time for practice and coordination of the presentations. In addition, Laila dissatisfied with her assigned role of Revelation, and Plata had to step in instead. Now did Laila get hands on the important co-starred as bell ringer "Notre Grange", a task that really demanded absolute pitch - something she had not.

Scenes were shot as shown. To the right stood a large herring barrel that served as a bridge piers, and left stood the noted "shoal boil Checkout for potatoes» as Kjell hid in a whole day. Checkout lay on his side with the lid facing the audience, and on the lid had Ludvig burned into Roman numerals; VI - VI - VI. Treasury acted as the second pier. A wide plank was the bridge that led across a dangerous ravine, and on the bridge had a malicious being posted "stumbling stones".

A wide plank was a bridge that led across a dangerous gorge.

In the yard we set up 14 chairs + two wicker chairs; one for grandmother in Newhouse and one for grandmother in Garden, and with the help of Alf Opsahl and Peder Sandal we had been moved organ from Anna’s living room and into a room at back where the windows were opened wide. Ten to five o’clock had come so many audiences that Alf and Peder let out long planks between the kitchen stools for everyone to get a seat. Glass with lemonade was put forward on a table, and Alfhild and Kari went around handing out warm raisin buns.

Kjell and I sat silent as mice up in gondola wagon outside Eagle's Nest and was too nervous to envy the audience the good stuff we missed.

Session opened with Anna Kvavik played "Prelude" by Bach, and all chewing buns and applauded so long that Anna had to get out on stairway at back door and curtsey.

A little while later rattled heavy hammer blows from our barn, where a window was set ajar to the audience. It was clear that "Hunchback of barn" struck on the ore of a heavy water barrel with a heavy hammer, but since the father unknowingly had wells horse and the water level was now adjusted too low, oscillating sound a damn frequency just below the giss / ass and howl sounded from pigpen until the hammer was thrown out - and the window slammed again.

And the audience looked a bit around at each other and nodded and smiled for everyone knew that now it was Sunday morning and church time. And Anna sat down again to the organ and the familiar tones of "None is so confident in danger" emanated from the window.

So began matters and things to be arrived at the scene, some twigs snapped on forest trail, and an innocent, young girl came slow moving in from the right with steady course towards the bridge over the frightful ravine. She was dressed in dark, low heels shoes with white knee socks and checkered pleated skirt, and over her white blouse she wore a beautiful home knitted jacket. Her head was covered with a light blue scarf tied under the chin, and in her hand she carried a white handkerchief folded over the hymnbook.

When the girl began to walk up the slope to the bridge, played Anna even higher, and sister Marie, who sat with little Arnfinn on her lap, joined in and sang "Nobody is so confident in danger, as God's little children crust ..." and many others fell into in song with her, but even if they conjured in minor as best they could, many realized that this would still go into wrong direction, and 9-year-old Liv with Leif cried in despair: "Beware of rocks, Tordis!"

But the well-intentioned warning came too late, the girl stumbled and while Hymn Book and handkerchief flew through the air, she fell badly down the gorge behind the bridge where she desperately lay sobbing, and everyone could see that she took care of two broken adds under the white knee socks - and that she therefore failed to stand up. Anna heard gasping from the crowd and stopped playing, and one could hear pin singlet in the gravel. Those who sat at the rear rows, and half had risen from the pews to better see, smiled now a little embarrassed to each other and sat down again.

Farmer, postman and emissary Georg Drageland that were related to grandmother in Newhouse, sighed heavily; he had the act read his Bible and was quick to crack the code with Roman numerals "VI - VI - VI." No, they needed certainly not teaching certificate in Kristiansand to know that 666 stood for "Beast of Revelation" (Rev. 13, 18). Then he turned to his neighbor at side, Uncle Anton, and said: "I'm afraid this drama has only just begun." Anton looked a bit confused, and for him and most others, came next fixture as a big surprise.

A terrible commotion, with glam, bleating and milling, suddenly broke out inside the pier of the left side of the gorge, and trapdoor with Roman numerals after loud uproar outright kicked out.

The two grandmothers in the front row gradually began to regret their prominent positions, as a monster, dressed in an old, moss green portiere curtain, which had hung over the door to consist the formal living room, came crawling out of the box on all fours and stuck a yellowish green mask head forward under the curtain edge. Beast opened drake gap and snorted with twofold tongue around in the air by Christian human blood. Then turned animal abruptly against the girl down in the gorge, grinned satisfied from eye to eye, and began waddling towards her.

The girl, who immediately saw the evil beast come drooling on themselves, eventually managed to get up on his knees. With her back facing the audience and hands folded flush against the barn wall, she began to pray with a dilute, trembling voice: "Our Father, who are in Heaven! I've broken both my legs, and cannot run from the beast ... eh, in Revelation, so save me from the evil, for yours are the power and the glory, forever and ever! Amen. "

Then the Lord appeared to her in a vision in the hatch on top of the barn wall, dressed in white as an Arab sheik, but with a golden radiance of Christmas tree glitter around his head. And the Lord stretched his arms toward the girl, and said in a deep voice: "Verily, verily, I say unto thee; I have heard your plea for help. And see; Now I send my trusted archangels; Michael and Gabriel, to earth to rescue you from Jammer Valleys misery. "

And the audience, who had heard everything the Lord had said, clapping hands with excitement and stared anxiously toward corner of the house and waited for the angels, but it lasted and slid and poor Liv by Leif bet nails and kicked nervously with her legs, for animal had almost reached the wretched Tordis which many a time would pass her when she was little.

Then drew gasps through theater-yard; a "heavenly chariot" came in an elegant swallow dive down from the big oak tree with two angels in white board and the liner just past the girl and the Beast, but then stopped abruptly at the end station where the wagon for a while wigged back and forth around the boom before the angels dazed and confused managed to crawl out.

Both Archangels went in sandals with bare legs and was dressed in white shirt coats with sleeves rolled up and their heads had white handkerchiefs knotted at the corners and a single wreath of Christmas glitter. The most impressive was that they still in braces behind their backs with many clothespins had attached wings that were cut out of white cardboard from large long booths boxes.

The blonde angel wore nameplate "Mikkel" and the dark "Gabriel." Mikkel wore a saber, and now he pulled it and went contrary to the slick animal. The fight waved back and forth down the gorge, but finally got Mikkel into a murderous cut that separated the head from the body.

When the last convulsions had ebbed away, pulled Mikkel the evil beast back to the pier and pushed it firmly into the box, so he picked up the trapdoor with Roman numerals and the hammer used by hunchback and nailed trapdoor into place with five toms rusty nail.

This garnered tumultuous applause at the theater courtyard, and even the two old grandmothers stood up and clapped and angel Mikkel sat down on the box and bowed and bowed.

Meanwhile the angel Gabriel lifted and dragged the young girl away to the heavenly chariot. But when she realized how the wagon would have its next stop, she fell again on her knees and begged Our Lord to let her live down the Jammer valley for a while, and the Lord was in good spirits that afternoon and showed compassion, and in a vision revealed He appeared to her in the top skylight on the barn wall and said with paternal, educational pathos: " Verily, verily, I say unto thee; Comfort, comfort my children. Your prayer is heard! ".

So the Lord turned against his archangel Gabriel and he commanded him to give the young girl new, healthy feet, and angel coats of carefully hand over the white knee-highs, and immediately she stood up and danced tentatively back and forth, so she picked up handcar shift and hymnal book and danced upon Church way towards the bridge. And when she again stepped out on the bridge over the dangerous gorge, stood an angel on either side with flowing, protective wings and chimed Lina Sandells old hymn: "None is so confident in danger ...". Mikael the archangel, had in the heat of battle lost both wings, and now he stood as well and sang and waved rate, with one wing in each hand.

Session ended with wild applause for Anna Kvavik and the entire theater troupe, and the hat of Alf Oppsahl was carried round and “small Collect” were collected. It brought in 66 kroner and 60 øre, which was divided equally between the two grandmothers woman associations.

It was often the small experiences that created solidarity and good neighborliness in those days.

This story was printed in the newspaper "Lister" on Saturday 24 October 2015.