As a young boy growing up in the Midwest I was deeply proud of my Swedish ancestry, although I knew very little about my native land. As the years past I would read about Sweden and the people, my respect would grow deeper. So proud was I of Sweden that I would often remind my five children that they were Swedish.

I grew up in Des Moines, Iowa where my grandfather and grandmother had immigrated to in 1897. My grandfather died there before I was born, my grandmother moved to Oregon where she lived until her death in 1964.

The trail to my Swedish ancestors was growing cold with the passing of time.

In November 2003 I decided that I would go to Sweden and try to find my family roots before the trail was lost forever.

It was not just for myself, but also for my children and grandchildren, I have always felt that it is important to know who we are and from where we came.

I called my sister to see if she could give me any useful information I could use in my search. I had only my grandparent's names and date of birth. I wanted to know what part of Sweden we had come from, She said that she remembered grandma saying she was from Kalmar and she was not sure of the spelling. WOW !! With all that information I should be able to drive right up to the old homestead once I got to Sweden. There was one other small detail that I only became aware of after I got to Sweden and started my search, I can neither speak nor read Swedish. In America Swedes are known for being hardheaded and stubborn. So I was not about to let the lack of information stop me.

After flying into Stockholm and getting a hotel I boarded a train for Ostersund which is in northern Sweden, I was headed in the wrong direction, so back to Stockholm, then I heard about a place in Goteborg where they kept records of immigrants who sailed to America, back to the train depot, another dead end. Then I heard about a parish in a little town out side of Linkoping, back to the train depot in a snow storm. It was in this little town that fate and good luck started to smile down on me. I gave the clerk my grandfather's name and he found some record with my grandfather's name on it, he handed me a photo copy with my grandfathers name Axel Fabian Andersson. This is where I discovered I couldn't read Swedish. As I stood there with this piece of paper in my hand feeling frustrated and trying to figure my next move I looked across the room to see a man sitting at a computer. As fate sometimes works in mysterious ways, the clerk who must have read my thoughts said "That man that I was looking at over at the computer does research" Bingo.

This was my first meeting with Dick Eriksson and Ericsson Sweden Genealogy. It is truly to his dedication and creative efforts that he was able to discover the roots to my past. Within a few short weeks he prepared a very detailed record of my family history before they left for America.

Had it not been for a chance meeting in a small town and the efforts of this man, I'm afraid my search for my roots might have been lost forever.

Dick Eriksson is truly a dedicated researcher, not only did he unlock the door to my past, he discovered my family that are still living in Sweden, I have returned to Sweden for two happy family reunions with twenty members of my family. I will forever be grateful to Dick Eriksson for his dedicated work on my behalf.

Sincerely, David L. Andersson