*IN MEMORIAM*
A tribute to the amazing, great, quiet man with a shy smile
Aimo Johannes Hourula
January 16, 1916 - March 22, 2008
AIMO's 90th birthday January 16, 2006
My husband had prepared me to meet his dad, Aimo. He's open, outgoing and talkative – and he'll be so happy to have a real Finnish daughter-in-law, Roope had told me. When a quiet, short man greeted me in accented English at San Francisco International Airport in October 1976, he didn't quite match my preconceived ideas. The beginning wasn't that easy for either of us as we came from two, very different Finlands. Aimo, like many other Finns, had left a worn-torn, poor country with no future. I, on the other hand, a recent college graduate, an English major, had had serious doubts about moving away from my modern, comfortable Finland, full of opportunities. But, it didn't take that long for me to start appreciating Aimo's ever-present kindness, generosity and persistent Finnish energy, SISU.
So little by little, this small, quiet man charmed me. We gave him a granddaughter in March 1978, and he became a proud and involved Ukki. He got a new car, a sporty, grey Oldsmobile with red leather interior the same day Maiju turned one. That night, when he came over for birthday cake, Maiju took her first steps as she ran across the living room to meet her ukki. Later, we all went for a spin in the Olds, ending up in a bar on Shattuck Avenue to toast Maiju! Because of her birthday, Maiju was allowed in to sit on the bar counter and chew on olives, meant for martinis. This was still the 70's, after all!
I started graduate school when Maiju was nine months old, and Aimo-ukki became a big help. He picked up Maiju from childcare, and later from preschool and happily babysat any time. On her second birthday, ukki took Maiju to the legendary Berkeley toy store, Mr. Mopps, and they returned with a little farm, a present Maiju had chosen.
Ukki was overjoyed when little brother, Johannes came along three years later. He himself was a father of two sons, after all. Johannes was named after Aimo Johannes and Olli Johannes, his two grandpas. Johannes grew into a fisherman who provided Ukki with one of the proudest moments of his life when on a salmon fishing trip, as an 8-year-old, Johannes pulled in the biggest salmon and collected the money pool. Maybe even more satisfying for Aimo-ukki was witnessing Johannes hand over his third fish to an old Finnish fisherman, ukki's rival, who had caught none. Johannes and ukki fished together and also shared their passion for the SF Giants until the very end.
Matlena was born in 1983 and charmed Ukki - like every old man since the days of her being a wide-blue-eyed infant. She enjoyed, in her turn, lunches with Ukki at Spengers Seafood Restaurant with special treatment from the senior waiters. She ordered shrimp scatter for years and years, just like her siblings, until one day, she realized that she was eighteen, and that she could order the same thing Ukki did: Dungeness crab or swordfish. The lunches continued, and Ukki and Marilyn even expanded the restaurant selection beyond Spengers to treat Matlena, and later boyfriend, John. Matlena, artist, also became an artist buddy to Marilyn, another artist.
Rafael joined our family in 1992. Ukki was very happy for another grandson – after all, he had by now four granddaughters! Rafael helped with yard work and shared sport stories with Ukki. He also interviewed Ukki for a school project on the Winter War and included Ukki's personal experiences in his report. Through this project, we all learned a lot more about Ukki's input in defending Finland to stay independent. A very meaningful event that Ukki attended was Rafael's confirmation in March 2007. It was a joyous occasion to see three generations of Hourula men in church and at lunch, afterwards.
Ukki was physically very fit and watched his diet carefully. When we started taking dinners to Ukki and Marilyn occasionally instead of inviting them over to avoid late night driving, we always made sure we cooked healthy. Ukki enjoyed good food, and I sneaked in some salmon dinners to him when he was in a nursing home in Oakland in the summer 2007. This was a small token to thank him for the barbecues in his backyard where we always enjoyed ukki-caught and -cooked, delicious, fresh salmon. Aimo enjoyed any fish, and we cooked a salmon lunch for about 40 friends to celebrate his 90th birthday. In his typical manner, Aimo didn't think he was worth celebrating. But we convinced him to let us throw a party, and it became a joyous event at the Finnish Hall, with family joining to prepare the feast, and over 40 guests participating in the celebration, some all the way from Florida.
Maybe my happiest memory is the summer 2003, the only time Ukki and our family were in Finland at the same time. We had talked Ukki into applying for veterans' rehabilitation spa in Rovaniemi. He didn't think he could stand two weeks of 'the prison' as he put it, so the veteran's organization allowed him to come for just one. We spent Juhannus, midsummer, together at Kitro, our family's cabin, taking saunas and catching and cooking fish. We also took a trip to Ukki's hometown, Nivala, and even visited the little house he was born in. We had coffee with relatives and drove back after midnight through a big island, Manamansalo, in Lake Oulujärvi, taking small ferries at each end. When we got to the mainland, about 20 km from our cabin, we stopped for a pee break. I'll never forget Ukki, then an 88–year-old, running to the other side of the road, jumping over a fence and hiding behind a big spruce tree in the nightless night, in the far North. We all just laughed and shook our heads in disbelief.
Our adventures in that summer also took us to Raatteentie, an area by the Russian border where Ukki had fought in the war in the late 1930's. We stood at the border area, looking over into the in-between, no-man's land, and visited the museum and the moving monument: a field, full of rocks with bells in a pole in the middle to remind us of the huge sacrifice by Finnish men, women and children. Our fathers and other countrymen had really paid a high price to provide us with an independent Finland. I felt humbled and grateful, especially to my own father and Aimo, both of the same vintages of 1916. The veterans' spa ended up a wonderful experience for Ukki. Cute, blond, young nurses taking care of him, great food in a beautifully constructed building with clean, modern facilities – all provided for free - impressed Ukki so much, he begged to stay another week, but the place was booked up. An added bonus: other veterans to fight the war with one more time. Ukki came back rested and energized.
Aimo was a skilled gardener, providing me with a weekly bag of fresh, ready-washed produce almost year around. He added new plants according to my wishes: more beets and red onions, and arrugola, our Italian novelty. Ukki's garden also produced plums and blackberries, lettuce, spinach, potatoes, and sweetest of cherry tomatoes I've ever tasted. Even when he was getting weaker, we had him sit on the little balcony, by the side of the garden, and fed him his own produce.
In September 2007 I left for a Sabbatical in Finland. I came back for a visit in November and just knew that it was time for good byes. Ukki was so happy to see me. His eyes got bright and he nodded and tried to talk. We prayed together. I had sensed a new openness to matters of faith since the spring 2007. On my birthday in May, he had insisted on getting me a card with a scripture on it. Marilyn is the one who told me that. My Christian women's group in Jyväskylä was praying daily during the November visit; they had 'adopted' Aimo as a new friend, and on my last visit, on the way to the airport, I felt peace, gratitude and closure. I do believe, Ukki is now gardening in a better place with the master gardener, Jesus, and at the same time watching over us, smiling at Roope picking up a bounty in his own garden, Johannes pulling in yet another rainbow trout, Maiju barbecuing ukki-salmon on her terrace in Bologna, Matlena making a painting of his adventurous life, Rafael rooting for the Giants, and me writing about the wonderful memories of his profound input in all our lives.
A tribute to the amazing, great, quiet man with a shy smile
Aimo Johannes Hourula
January 16, 1916 - March 22, 2008
AIMO's 90th birthday January 16, 2006
My husband had prepared me to meet his dad, Aimo. He's open, outgoing and talkative – and he'll be so happy to have a real Finnish daughter-in-law, Roope had told me. When a quiet, short man greeted me in accented English at San Francisco International Airport in October 1976, he didn't quite match my preconceived ideas. The beginning wasn't that easy for either of us as we came from two, very different Finlands. Aimo, like many other Finns, had left a worn-torn, poor country with no future. I, on the other hand, a recent college graduate, an English major, had had serious doubts about moving away from my modern, comfortable Finland, full of opportunities. But, it didn't take that long for me to start appreciating Aimo's ever-present kindness, generosity and persistent Finnish energy, SISU.
So little by little, this small, quiet man charmed me. We gave him a granddaughter in March 1978, and he became a proud and involved Ukki. He got a new car, a sporty, grey Oldsmobile with red leather interior the same day Maiju turned one. That night, when he came over for birthday cake, Maiju took her first steps as she ran across the living room to meet her ukki. Later, we all went for a spin in the Olds, ending up in a bar on Shattuck Avenue to toast Maiju! Because of her birthday, Maiju was allowed in to sit on the bar counter and chew on olives, meant for martinis. This was still the 70's, after all!
I started graduate school when Maiju was nine months old, and Aimo-ukki became a big help. He picked up Maiju from childcare, and later from preschool and happily babysat any time. On her second birthday, ukki took Maiju to the legendary Berkeley toy store, Mr. Mopps, and they returned with a little farm, a present Maiju had chosen.
Ukki was overjoyed when little brother, Johannes came along three years later. He himself was a father of two sons, after all. Johannes was named after Aimo Johannes and Olli Johannes, his two grandpas. Johannes grew into a fisherman who provided Ukki with one of the proudest moments of his life when on a salmon fishing trip, as an 8-year-old, Johannes pulled in the biggest salmon and collected the money pool. Maybe even more satisfying for Aimo-ukki was witnessing Johannes hand over his third fish to an old Finnish fisherman, ukki's rival, who had caught none. Johannes and ukki fished together and also shared their passion for the SF Giants until the very end.
Matlena was born in 1983 and charmed Ukki - like every old man since the days of her being a wide-blue-eyed infant. She enjoyed, in her turn, lunches with Ukki at Spengers Seafood Restaurant with special treatment from the senior waiters. She ordered shrimp scatter for years and years, just like her siblings, until one day, she realized that she was eighteen, and that she could order the same thing Ukki did: Dungeness crab or swordfish. The lunches continued, and Ukki and Marilyn even expanded the restaurant selection beyond Spengers to treat Matlena, and later boyfriend, John. Matlena, artist, also became an artist buddy to Marilyn, another artist.
Rafael joined our family in 1992. Ukki was very happy for another grandson – after all, he had by now four granddaughters! Rafael helped with yard work and shared sport stories with Ukki. He also interviewed Ukki for a school project on the Winter War and included Ukki's personal experiences in his report. Through this project, we all learned a lot more about Ukki's input in defending Finland to stay independent. A very meaningful event that Ukki attended was Rafael's confirmation in March 2007. It was a joyous occasion to see three generations of Hourula men in church and at lunch, afterwards.
Ukki was physically very fit and watched his diet carefully. When we started taking dinners to Ukki and Marilyn occasionally instead of inviting them over to avoid late night driving, we always made sure we cooked healthy. Ukki enjoyed good food, and I sneaked in some salmon dinners to him when he was in a nursing home in Oakland in the summer 2007. This was a small token to thank him for the barbecues in his backyard where we always enjoyed ukki-caught and -cooked, delicious, fresh salmon. Aimo enjoyed any fish, and we cooked a salmon lunch for about 40 friends to celebrate his 90th birthday. In his typical manner, Aimo didn't think he was worth celebrating. But we convinced him to let us throw a party, and it became a joyous event at the Finnish Hall, with family joining to prepare the feast, and over 40 guests participating in the celebration, some all the way from Florida.
Maybe my happiest memory is the summer 2003, the only time Ukki and our family were in Finland at the same time. We had talked Ukki into applying for veterans' rehabilitation spa in Rovaniemi. He didn't think he could stand two weeks of 'the prison' as he put it, so the veteran's organization allowed him to come for just one. We spent Juhannus, midsummer, together at Kitro, our family's cabin, taking saunas and catching and cooking fish. We also took a trip to Ukki's hometown, Nivala, and even visited the little house he was born in. We had coffee with relatives and drove back after midnight through a big island, Manamansalo, in Lake Oulujärvi, taking small ferries at each end. When we got to the mainland, about 20 km from our cabin, we stopped for a pee break. I'll never forget Ukki, then an 88–year-old, running to the other side of the road, jumping over a fence and hiding behind a big spruce tree in the nightless night, in the far North. We all just laughed and shook our heads in disbelief.
Our adventures in that summer also took us to Raatteentie, an area by the Russian border where Ukki had fought in the war in the late 1930's. We stood at the border area, looking over into the in-between, no-man's land, and visited the museum and the moving monument: a field, full of rocks with bells in a pole in the middle to remind us of the huge sacrifice by Finnish men, women and children. Our fathers and other countrymen had really paid a high price to provide us with an independent Finland. I felt humbled and grateful, especially to my own father and Aimo, both of the same vintages of 1916. The veterans' spa ended up a wonderful experience for Ukki. Cute, blond, young nurses taking care of him, great food in a beautifully constructed building with clean, modern facilities – all provided for free - impressed Ukki so much, he begged to stay another week, but the place was booked up. An added bonus: other veterans to fight the war with one more time. Ukki came back rested and energized.
Aimo was a skilled gardener, providing me with a weekly bag of fresh, ready-washed produce almost year around. He added new plants according to my wishes: more beets and red onions, and arrugola, our Italian novelty. Ukki's garden also produced plums and blackberries, lettuce, spinach, potatoes, and sweetest of cherry tomatoes I've ever tasted. Even when he was getting weaker, we had him sit on the little balcony, by the side of the garden, and fed him his own produce.
In September 2007 I left for a Sabbatical in Finland. I came back for a visit in November and just knew that it was time for good byes. Ukki was so happy to see me. His eyes got bright and he nodded and tried to talk. We prayed together. I had sensed a new openness to matters of faith since the spring 2007. On my birthday in May, he had insisted on getting me a card with a scripture on it. Marilyn is the one who told me that. My Christian women's group in Jyväskylä was praying daily during the November visit; they had 'adopted' Aimo as a new friend, and on my last visit, on the way to the airport, I felt peace, gratitude and closure. I do believe, Ukki is now gardening in a better place with the master gardener, Jesus, and at the same time watching over us, smiling at Roope picking up a bounty in his own garden, Johannes pulling in yet another rainbow trout, Maiju barbecuing ukki-salmon on her terrace in Bologna, Matlena making a painting of his adventurous life, Rafael rooting for the Giants, and me writing about the wonderful memories of his profound input in all our lives.
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