Charley Sholin photo taken in Clay Center,                                 Kansas	Charley Sholin's son George

Charles and Nellie Sholin

by

Virginia Sholin Smallwood

March, 2006

Charles Sholin was born in Sweden, in the little village of Runemo in Alfta Parish, Helsingland, on December 30, 1871. Charles' Swedish name was Carl Jonsson. His father's first name was Johan, so Carl was called Carl Jonsson, which meant "Carl, son of Johan."  In the Swedish records, Carl and his brothers can be found using the surnames, "Jonsson," "Johansson" and even "Jansson."  These names all mean, "son of Johan," and Swedes used them interchangeably. Carl's father, Johan Jonsson Sjölin, was a soldier and shoemaker. His mother, and the wife of Johan, was Kerstin Rolig Roberg.

Since 1850, more and more Swedes had been leaving their homeland for far-away "Amerika."  This was the time of Sweden's Great Migration.  Many from Alfta Parish were also leaving.  By the time Carl as born, several of his father's brothers had left, including Anders Jonsson Printz, who had gone to America with his wife and children. They also took Carl's oldest brother, Johan, with them, as well. Several of his mother's cousins and an aunt had also emigrated. Times were hard in Sweden, but "Amerika" was the Land of Opportunity, where everyone was free and equal, and land was plentiful. Like many other Swedes, Carl's family had probably heard glowing reports from relatives and friends who had left Sweden for that new country.  In 1881 and 1882, more of Carl's brothers went there, as well: Jonas, Pehr (Peter), Olof and Anders (Andrew).

By March of 1884, Carl, his younger brother, Edvard, and their mother and father were also on their way to the new country. The family came to America on the ship, "Romeo," with a declared destination of "Clay Center, U.S.A." Charlie's uncle, Andrew Printz, had built a farm at Clay Center, Kansas, where he and his family lived in a Swedish immigrant community. This was the same Uncle Anders who, in 1869, had emigrated with Charlie's oldest brother, Johan. Having arrived at "Clay Center, U.S.A.", the family lived with Andrew Printz and his family for awhile, using their newly Americanized names; John, Christine, Carl and Edward Sholen.  Not long after their arrival, Carl's father died. His mother left Kansas to live with her son, Peter, in the state of Washington.  She died in Portland, Oregon on January 23, 1911.

On May 7, 1898, fourteen years after coming to America, Charlie joined the U.S. Army at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. He listed, "farmer" as his previous occupation.  This was the first of two enlistments. He wrote, "I like soldiering," when he enlisted the second time. Charlie served with Company G, 20th U.S. Infantry, seeing action in both the Spanish American War in Cuba and the Philippine Insurrection. One of his posts in the Philippines was to guard the residence of the new Philippine president. He spent two and a half years in the Philippines before he was honorably discharged at the rank of sergeant in 1905. Waiting for a ship to take him home, he joined the Police Force in Manila and stayed another six years. Growing impatient, he finally paid his own way back to the United States. The army had promised reimbursement, but never did pay him back.  Later, Charlie hired a lawyer to look into it.  In those days before copy machines, he gave the lawyer some documents to help prove his case.  But Charlie never saw the money he was owed. Nor did he ever again see his documents.

After he arrived back in the States, Charlie soon ended up in San Francisco, where he worked for awhile as a stevedore and then as a teamster.  One evening he was enjoying a drink with some friends at the "Barrel Saloon," on Fifth, near Market Street, when a Salvation Army band came marching by on their way to their hall.  Charlie, who had attended Salvation Army meetings when he joined the U.S. Army at For Leavenworth, declared to his companions, "Boys, this is my last drink!"  He followed the band to the Salvation Army hall and was converted that night.  If he liked "soldiering" in his U.S. Army days, after his conversion that evening on November 2, 1912, he became a dedicated and steadfast Salvation Army soldier for the rest of his life.

A Note About the Salvation Army:

The Salvation Army was founded in the 1860s by William Booth, an itinerant Methodist preacher. He ministered to the "down and out" in London's notorious East End.  Successful at this, Booth tried to send his new converts to area churches. But Booth's converts, so recently redeemed from their less-than-savory, former lives, did not feel accepted in those churches. Founding a new denomination is not what Booth had in mind, but he eventually realized his flock was in need of a church home. Someone suggested that theirs was a war with Satan, so the idea of a military structure for the new denomination emerged, and the Salvation Army was born. Their charge was and is to "Love the unlovable."  Their motto: "Hearts to God and hands to man."  The Army has done a such a good job of social work that many people do not realize that the Salvation Army is, in fact, a Christian church denomination, with doctrines similar to Methodism and Quakerism (the last because of the influence of Booth's wife, Catherine).

In San Francisco, it wasn't long before Charlie met the woman who would become his wife, Adjutant Nellie Jensen, an ordained Salvation Army officer.  Nellie Emilie Jensen grew up in Humboldt County, California, first in Bridgeville, where she lived with her parents and brothers in a cabin her father had built on his homestead. She was born October 2, 1880. Nellie's father, Rasmus Jensen, and mother, Emma Emilie John were Danish immigrants who were married at Eureka, California.  After Nellie's mother died, and a blizzard wiped out the family's livestock, Rasmus could not keep his homestead. He moved his family to Eureka, and it was there they met the Salvation Army. It was a time of great evangelistic fervor, and Nellie soon knew her calling to be an officer.  So, she went sailed to San Francisco, where she attended the Salvation Army's Officer Training School. Her first appointment was to the Hawaiian Islands. She had a lot to do, but set aside some time for fun. In about 1902, Nellie rode her bicycle to the top of a volcano called, The Pali, quite a feat for a young woman in those days.

In the early days of the twentieth century, the Salvation Army had not yet attained the respect it enjoys today.  In some places, Salvationists were ridiculed and sometimes even attacked. It took backbone, dedication and courage for women to be officers. In addition to Salvation Army meetings almost every night, as well as all Sunday morning and evening, an officer, in those days, had to sell "The War Cry" for a living. Bowery saloons were where many of those magazines were sold.

During the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake, Nellie was living at the Apollo Hotel in San Francisco.  Her stove became detached from the wall and was turned around.  Luckily, her building didn't fall down on her and she got out alive. It is known that San Francisco Salvation Army officers, even those who had lost their own lodgings, were quickly at work organizing food and shelter for others.

Nellie resigned her officer's commission to marry Charlie. It was 1914.  Not a young couple, Charlie was forty-three and Nellie, thirty-four. For their wedding, they wore their most treasured clothing, their navy blue Salvation Army uniforms. Following the wedding custom of the era's Salvation Army "lassies," Nellie draped a white satin sash across the bodice and all the way down the side of her long, high-collared, uniform. She carried a bouquet of white roses. With her plain eyeglasses, Nellie looked thoughtful and sweet, her hair rolled up and back in a simple style of the time and bonnet-less for the occasion.  Charlie looked taller than his five foot, seven inches, and dignified and happy. They pledged their love and fidelity to each other, as well as to their beloved Salvation Army. From all appearances, they were well matched. Never, in all the years of their marriage, said their son, George, could he remember his parents arguing.

Somewhere along the line, Charlie learned to play the tuba, probably so he could play it in the Salvation Army corps band.  The band provided music for indoor services, but also marched to "open-air meetings," especially in rougher areas, where ratio of saloons to other businesses was high and drunks could often be seen sprawled in the gutters, out cold. The band's bass drum, set on its side on the street, served as a "penitent form," for people coming forward to pray for forgiveness and redemption.

During World War I, Charlie ran a Salvation Army reading room for soldiers on leave from the United States military. The reading rooms were predecessors to today's U.S.O.  Charlie was also a custodian for the Salvation Army's School for Officer Training. Ever loyal and highly capable, he was his corps' Senior Sergeant-Major for many years, a rank similar to that of a head elder or deacon.

George remembers the wooden toys his father made for him. For his business, too, Charlie made wooden items such as ironing boards, folding camp chairs and wash boards. His Sholin Manufacturing Company was registered with the San Francisco Chamber of Commerce. It was next door to their house at 73 Moss Street. Charlie made most of his equipment himself. Some of these were very large and complicated tools, such as large cutoff saws and a device for crimping metal for the washboards.  

Thank goodness we don't have to use washboards anymore! On laundry day, women filled their washtubs with soapy water (getting that hot water is a whole other story). Then, they would haul out their washboards, made of wood and metal.  The riffled metal was attached to the front. Holding the washboard at an angle inside the tub, they scrubbed wet, dirty clothes on the metal-covered board until they came clean. Washboards had been in use for some time, and were certainly an improvement over beating wet clothes on rocks. But Charlie had a better idea. He invented a mountable washboard, which would have made laundry easier. He even obtained a patent for it. Alas, somebody else had invented the washing machine about the same time, proving that timing is everything!

When a big parade was planned for San Francisco's Diamond Jubilee, Charlie made folding camp chairs for his son, George, to sell to parade watchers. In those days, if a parade spectator wanted to sit on something, he'd have to bring a wooden box from home for that purpose.  The chairs must have been appealing because George made enough money from their sale to buy his first suit with long pants. Business for Charlie was good, and by 1929, he had made enough to pay cash for a brand new Model T Ford.  George, at age fourteen, was designated the family driver.  Neither Charlie nor Nellie ever learned to drive a car.

During the Great Depression, Charlie was able to keep his company going for awhile.  Eventually, however, customers were unable to pay their bills, so the business foundered. Charlie sold his company, and the family moved to 55 Lapidge Street in the Mission District. Times were hard, and the family made-do as best they could.  After awhile, though, Charlie was hired back by the man who had previously bought him out, so once again, his family had a steady source of income.

Charlie didn't have much contact with his brothers or sister after he joined the army. Their sister, Christine Soderberg, lived on the same block in San Francisco as Charlie and his family briefly about 1921. Also, George remembers the only vacation his parents ever took, which was to Grants Pass, Oregon, in about 1942, where they visited Charlie's brothers, Andrew and Edward, and Edward's wife, Mollie.

Charlie died suddenly on December 22, 1942. After that, in 1946, Nellie moved to the Sacramento area with her son, George, and his family. On December 29, 1950, she, too, passed away. In Salvation Army terms, Charlie and Nellie had been "Promoted to Glory." Their bodies were laid to rest at Cypress Lawn in Coloma, California.

Charlie and Nellie were highly respected. Neighbors, most of them immigrants from various parts of the world, often asked Nellie for counsel and prayer. One person wrote to Nellie, "Knowing you has made me a better Christian."  Another, writing at a time when Nellie was ill, "…You have been able to do more good sick as you are than all the rest…" Charlie would often be asked for money from panhandlers as he walked from the corps building.  Charlie could "spare a dime," but knew the money would only be used by these alcoholics to buy more of the same.  Instead, he took such a man inside to buy him a cup of coffee.

Charlie and Nellie had two children, a son and a daughter. Their son, George C. Sholin, had six children of his own, and their daughter, Crissie Sholin Ragsdale, had three.  By now, descendants of Charlie and Nellie have included their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. They are scattered among the states of California, Florida, Hawaii, Colorado, Maryland, Washington, New Mexico, Oklahoma and New York.

Once, I asked George if Charlie spoke with a Swedish accent.  I was surprised when he answered, "No." Then again, Charlie had come to America when he was only twelve years old.  He lived among Swedish immigrants for awhile. But once he joined U.S. Army in his mid-twenties, he never again lived in a primarily Swedish immigrant community. In many ways, Charlie had shed Sweden and embraced America.

Charlie and Nellie were good people. They provided a safe home for their children. They gave of themselves to others in their community and church. As I write this, Charlie and Nellie have been gone for more than half a century. Still, it is with awe that I examine their lives. In today's world, it might seem old fashioned and somewhat quaint that they felt an importance in things beyond themselves.  But ultimately, it was through their devotion, selflessness, and faith in God that they would find their own strength and happiness.