Forstrom Family Tragedy

Arvid Forstrom Dies in Train Accident

by Joelle Steele

When I was a young teenager, my mother was explaining to me why my half-cousins were called half-cousins. She told me how my grandmother, Helny Maria Andersdotter Furu (07/04/1885-04/18/1968) had a first husband, Matts Arvid Mattsson Forstrom [Forsbacka] (11/06/1878-08/13/1917), who was killed in a train accident in which his son, Ted, was injured. Somehow, I just always assumed that Arvid and Ted were traveling somewhere on the train when it crashed. End of story.

Well, not exactly. Fast forward about 35 years to when I was knee-deep in researching the history of my half-cousins’ ancestors. One of the first people who provided me with family information was Larry Werelius, who referred me to Alphild Lind, the widow of Larry’s uncle, Ted Lind, whose mother was Arvid’s aunt. I also contacted Joanne Forstrom Nash, the daughter of Arvid’s brother, Victor Forstrom. Imagine my surprise, when both Alphild and Joanne told me the exact same story about Arvid’s tragic death.

On Monday morning, August 13, 1917, Arvid left Rochester in his milk truck, carrying with him his father, Matt, and Arvid’s nine year-old son, Ted. Arvid dropped off his father in Centralia and went to the creamery with Ted. He returned to Centralia, had just bought gas, and was going to pick up his father. As Arvid crossed at the Summa Street railroad crossing, he was hit by the Seattle-bound train. He was killed instantly. According to the front page article in the Centralia Daily Chronicle, “every bone in his body was broken,” and his skull was crushed.

When Arvid’s father was found and told of the accident, he asked, “What about the boy?” It wasn’t until then that rescuers looked for Ted in the wreckage. He had been thrown from the truck and was unconscious with a broken ankle and leg, and assorted other injuries.

So now I knew what had happened, and for further details a researcher, Margaret Shields, obtained copies of the two articles that appeared in the Centralia Daily Chronicle. The first one was the lead story on the front page. The rest of the story came to light following a title search of various “Forstrom Hill” properties in Rochester, in which numerous court documents were obtained.

An inquest was held the day following the accident, but the coroner’s jury was unable to determine who was to blame for Arvid’s death. Passengers on the train said that the engineer blew his whistle as the train approached the crossing and then blew it again when he saw Arvid’s truck. The engineer immediately applied the brake, but too late. When Ted gained consciousness, he testified in the hospital by deposition, stating that he did not hear the train whistle.

Arvid was only 38 and had died intestate (without a will). His aunt Johanna Alina’s husband, Carl Brandt, was appointed administrator of his estate. On December 28, 1920, three years after his death, Arvid’s estate was finally settled and distributed. Brandt had settled all the estate debts, and the estate now consisted of the farmhouse and about 30 or so acres, four head of cattle, two dozen chickens, a wagon, household furnishings, farm tools and equipment, and an Oakland automobile. Brandt had also hired attorneys to sue the Northern Pacific Railway Company on my grandmother’s behalf. The lawsuit was successful, and the court awarded my grandmother the sum of $2,000 for the loss of her son Ted’s services while he was injured, and $12,314 for the injury and death of Arvid.

The lawyers got 50% of the award. For his services to the estate, Brandt was awarded the sum of $100. Arvid’s estate was then divided, with one-half going to my grandmother, who was still living on the farm but was now married to my grandfather, Joel Steele, and one-half divided into thirds went to Arvid’s three minor children.

It all started with a simple explanation to a teenager about why half-cousins were called half-cousins. All the complexities of that relationship were unfolded many years later. And there was a sad but great story behind it all. A story well worth waiting to hear.