The Finnish Sauna

Though this post is not about a specific individual from the ancestry of my children, it does describe a great deal of what formed my life as a 2nd generation American, whose ancestry is 100% Finnish (or, as I like to say: "Made in America with 100% Finnish parts").  To my ancestors, the sauna was not just a 'bathhouse', but the very soul of Finnish culture. While I was growing up, Finnish friends of my parents, Mr. & Mrs. Maki, invited our family to their home in Pleasant Valley (Sweet Home) every Saturday for Sauna. Theirs was a little building off the drive leading to their home.  Even when the grownups all got together to speak Finn, I remember all the kids playing in the yard, while waiting for our turns to 'take a sauna':

In addition, I spent many summers visiting my maternal grandparents at their Lake Cabin in Minnesota. Of course, their sauna was heated by a wood-burning stove. Ahhh, what sweet memories I have of my childhood sauna experiences.

Sauna at summer cabin of Matt & Saimie Hietala, my maternal grandparents
I remember each time we visited, grandpa Hietala would have bushels of fresh fruit
along the outer wall of their sauna (seen here) for us kids to enjoy.  Great memories!

My dad (Phil Palkki) remembers his family got double the use out of their sauna by using it as a smoke house to preserve meat for the winter.

This video link describes the Finnish sauna (and how to properly pronounce it):

Opposite of cold interview

And yes, I have enjoyed very hot temperatures in the sauna, and to this day, my bath water HAS to be straight from the HOT tap, no cold water for this Finn!  And I have also run from the sauna to the lake for a quick dip before continuing with my sauna (but having leaches attach themselves to you while doing so is no fun).  There really is nothing like going from very hot to (in comparison) very cold water - try it sometime in the shower.  Before getting out, turn the hot water off and rinse with cold water.  Very invigorating!

My uncle Kenneth Duane Hyatt (nee Hietala) emailed this to me a few years ago. I've kept it and bring it out from time to time, as it reminds me of how truly delightful a Finnish sauna really is. If you've never experienced one, it is my opinion you don't really know what it means to be alive!

From the Book “Runes of the North”  (NOTE: Photos added by me, courtesy of the internet)

"The history of the Finnish steam bath, or sauna, goes back well over a thousand years and possibly more.  Its use is ancient, possibly discovered first by prehistoric men who basked in the live steam coming from some volcanic fumarole. Whatever its origin, the principle is the same everywhere, vapor generated by throwing cold water on heated stones. There are as many variations in method and ritual as the people who have learned to enjoy it. In Finland, however, it reached its highest refinement, became so closely allied with tradition and culture that it is inconceivable to think of this hardy race without it.

"According to early records, saunas were originally only excavations in the earth, built into the sides of hills, and served both as baths and family dwellings. Later, they were cabins built on flat land with a living room attached; finally, saunas became separate buildings near the water.

"All over Finland, the sauna is spoken of with affection and delight. Its use has been so closely woven into the fabric of this culture, it can never be forgotten even by the most sophisticated. Finnish emigrants brought the custom to America as early as 1683—and it was said that a settler built his bath house first, then his house and barn. In America today, as in Finland, every Finnish farm had its sauna; even in towns and cities one finds them built into homes, or, if this impossible, into public baths, so important has it become to the way of life of these people.

"My sauna cabin is primitive, one step removed from the first excavations in the hillsides of Finland. I wanted it that way for I felt it must be close to the earth, so much a part of the natural environment that simple values would not be lost. Nestled in a grove of cedars back of the beach, its logs are hand-hewn, carefully notched, and weathered a silver gray. The cabin is small, only ten by ten, but a stoop faces the bay which gives it depth and view. In the old days the roof would have had a hole for the smoke to escape, but now a stove pipe leads through it.

"Handmade benches are around three sides, and there are wooden pegs for towels and clothes. A window is under the peak of the roof and another looks into the birches. Beyond this there is nothing. Simplicity is the keynote, but when steam rises from the stones and the sprays of cedar give off their fragrance, the sauna comes into its own.

"In the old tradition and as a mark of hospitality, it is the custom to invite a guest to partake of a sauna with you, but only if the guest is willing and deserves the honor. So when my son came home after several years in Libya and Lebanon and full of the things he had seen and done, there was no question of what to do first. It was an afternoon in September that we started the fire in the barrel stove. The cabin was swept and clean, and a hand-woven rag rug of many colors was laid out smoothly for our feet. Buckets were filled from the lake, two placed on the rocks above the stove, two on the bench before it.

 "As preparation, we spent several hours at the woodpile, hauling logs of birch, aspen, spruce, sawing them into proper lengths, splitting them to size, and piling them neatly. While we labored with axe and saw, the smoke curled high above us, the rocks became hotter and hotter until they hissed and spat when water was sprinkled on them.  Toward evening all was in readiness. We opened the door and the bathhouse smelled as it should, rich with the pungence of burning, the odors of hot logs and of many saunas of the past. We took our places on the lower bench.

"A dipperful of water tossed onto the rocks all but exploded, instantly filling the cabin with steam. Then more water, again and again, until the steam began to penetrate our bodies. When we had become accustomed to the heat, we moved to the upper bench where it was more intense. As we sat there, we become one with the rising vapors and the crackling spruce in the stove.

“Dip your cedar switch,” I said, “dip it in your bucket and sprinkle the stones.” Bob did so, and the air was full of fragrance. “Hold it to your face,” I told him, “hold it close and breathe deeply.” The oil of cedar went into the passageways of our lungs, scoured and renovated them until they were clean and fresh. The moist warmth caressed us and filled us with a lassitude that dispelled all thoughts, and had we not been faithful to the ritual, we might have been tempted to stay and miss one of the greatest thrills of the sauna, the exhilarating plunge into the cold waters of the lake. Watching Bob, and knowing myself, I felt we could wait no longer. The time had come. “Let’s go,” I said.

An alternative when your sauna is not located on a lake

"Heated through and through, we dashed down the trail, splashed into the bay, swam furiously for a moment, then returned. How good to feel the warm steam again, and now the perspiration literally rolled off our bodies until we shone and gleamed in the firelight.

“Turn your back,” I ordered, and I whipped him with the cedar switch until his skin was red and covered with the flat green tips of the branch ends. He did the same for me and we laughed with the good feeling that was ours of cleanliness, of warmth and blended smells. No ordinary bath could equal this. The pores themselves were cleaned, the blood brought into circulation by the plunge, the entire system recharged, stimulated, and relaxed.

“This is it,” said Bob, “elemental; we need nothing more. I had forgotten how good a sauna really could be.” He held the cedar against his face, breathed deeply once more. “The smell of cedar,” I reminded him, “is an incense that carries thoughts to heaven, which is why all worries leave.” “And all evil,” he replied, “all intrigue and ambition.” I threw on another dipperful. White steam surrounded us and swirled along the ridgepole.

“About ready,” announced Bob, and once more we ran to the beach, this time swam far out for the water was like silk to us, and we did not feel the cold, were conscious only of floating without effort and drifting in a medium as warm as our own bodies.

"We went back to a third and last steaming and, when we returned to the lake for a final dip, the sun was tinting the water, the west was pink and blue, with a broad band of color in the bay. We swam through it and then into the band, lay there in its iridescence, looking toward the sauna in the cedars. Smoke still rose from the chimney, though the fire was almost gone, and we could even smell it there on the water.

"After we had cooled, we swam to the beach, went up the trail again, opened the door and windows wide, and dried ourselves leisurely. It was almost dark now and we sat on the lower bench before the open door of the stove and toasted our feet in the glow of the coals. The hot steam was gone and the cool night air felt good to us.

"There was nothing of great moment to talk about, but within us was a feeling of well-being in which the affairs of the world seemed far away and unimportant. Ours was a sense of fullness and belonging to a past of simple ways. This was the time of magic when the world was still, this the feel of dawns and of awakenings at night, of hush and quiet. Life was simple and complete."

On a facebook page titled "The Opposite of Cold" (same title as video posted above), someone named Aaron posted:

Sauna isn’t a building,
Sauna isn’t heat.
Sauna isn’t sweat.
Sauna isn’t steam.

Sauna is life.
Sauna is story.
Sauna is family, safety, strength, nobility, and honor.                                                                                             Sauna is warmth mixed with humility and candor.

Sauna is respect, & cherished memories of those who no longer join us in the sauna.                  
Sauna is a way of life, a right of passage, and part of a rich, warm history.

So..... go out and enjoy an adventure of a lifetime.  Experience a Finnish Sauna.  If there are none near you, create your own!  I read a blog a few years ago, which suggests making a 'steam room' out of a camping tent, using 3 items: a camping tent, a wallpaper stripper, and a kiddie pool filled with COLD water (to sit in immediately after leaving the steam room). I've been wanting to try it, and even tried to figure out a way to have one at last summer's Palkki Family Reunion, but the reunion committee didn't think it was such a good idea - lol.  Today I found a youtube video where a young man (Matthew) actually made one inside his house (but it was not a family-friendly video).  Then I found this one where a man (Bryan) puts Matthew's indoor tent to the test.  It's a long video (28 minutes), but I found it rather amusing at times.  Bryan does, however, have a few good pointers for anyone wanting to try making such a steam room.  I recommend if you don't want to watch the entire video, jump to the 18:00 minute mark.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9RlXbMVsOk&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

If you try making a tent steam room, it certainly won't give you the same experience as an authentic Finnish Sauna, but hey!  It might be fun to try. Let us know about YOUR Finnish Sauna experiences!

Kindred Spirits (by Joe David Bellamy)

Arlene Elvera Skoog Howell Zook (1927-1968)

After many days considering who would be the first of my children's ancestors to be spotlighted in my blog, I have settled on the woman who gave birth to my dear husband.

Arlene Elvera Skoog Howell & son, Ronald William Howell (Zook)

at family home in Toledo, Oregon (1947)

Now some might think it strange I would choose my mother-in-law, but when you consider the circumstances, it's not such a strange choice, afterall.  You see, though Arlene Skoog (Howell-Zook) died of cervical cancer four years before Ron and I even met, she has been a constant presence in our home, which started one night while we were sleeping.

When Ron and I were newlyweds, my deceased mother-in-law visited our home.  Ron just woke up from a sound sleep, and saw his mother at the foot of our bed.  It wasn't a 'Ghost Whisperer' or 'Medium' type of visit, but rather a calm, peaceful, comforting 'I love you and am proud of you' moment for him.  Immediately after she left, Ron woke me to share his experience.  Being the supportive and loving wife that I am, my first thought was "You think she would have called first," immediately followed by "Oh, No!  There are dishes in the sink!"  That night, Ron and I KNEW we were 'with child', we were going to have a son, and his name would be 'Ronald Michael Zook', even though that was a name we had NEVER considered (and we had all our children's names selected before we were ever married).  It was no surprise to us when a few days later, the OB Doc confirmed what we had learned the night of Arlene's visit.  At the time of delivery, it was also no surprise to be told our first child was a boy.

ARLENE ELVERA SKOOG was born 15 July 1927 in Toledo, Oregon to parents: William Forest Skoog and Anna May Oswald Skoog.

Arlene Elvera Skoog (circa 1929)

Arlene was the second child born into the Skoog family. About two months after Arlene's 1st birthday, Arlene's older sister and playmate, Audrey, died.

Audrey posing on family car...NOT how she died! (in case you were wondering)

Less than a year later, about two months after Arlene celebrated her 2nd birthday, another sister, Beverly JoAnn was born.

After JoAnn, five more children joined the Skoog family:

1939: Arlene-12, JoAnn-10, George-8, Bill-6, Chris-1

Three years after this photo was taken, twins were born:

Jackie & Richard Lamont, however, Richard only lived a little over one month

With six children living in the Skoog household, Arlene felt closest to JoAnn, most likely because JoAnn was the next youngest child in age to Arlene. Whatever the reason, these two sisters became lifelong best friends.

As children, they were partners in crime:

L-R: Arlene Elvera Skoog & Beverly JoAnn Skoog

As teens, they shared makeup, clothes & secrets: 

L-R: Arlene Skoog, (?), and JoAnn Skoog

As adults, when one was in trouble, the other was always there to offer support, comfort, and advice.

L-R: Beverly JoAnn Skoog Farlow & Arlene Elvera Skoog Howell

Family stories about Arlene include the two sisters sneaking off to Washington State, where Arlene was going to be married (without her parents' knowledge).  When her fiance' abandoned his bride and her sister, the girls had to call their parents to rescue them and bring them home.  Ron and I have always wondered the identity of that young man.  We did find one record, a Marriage Application signed by Arlene and a "David C. Austin".  Both were 18 at the time.  We did find a person by that name with ties to Toledo, Oregon (where they were both from), but no marriage certificate was ever filed.  We've wondered if the young man with Arlene and JoAnn in the photo above may be David Austin.  Then again,  maybe not!

Another time, Arlene ran off with Troy Howell to be married in Idaho (again, without her parents' knowledge).  Even though everyone in both families always believed the two never did get married, we found their marriage certificate to prove it.  Sadly, Troy abandoned Arlene while she was pregnant with my husband, Ron.  So, once again, her parents were called to rescue her.  William and Anna May Skoog drove to Idaho to bring their daughter and unborn grandchild home to Toledo.  Desperate to provide a father for her child, Arlene then began spending time with a man whose name was Roy Blumstrom (or something like that).  This man is reported to have been a very violent and abusive man.  When Arlene became pregnant with her second child, Larry, tensions were high.  However, when she found out she was expecting a third child, Roy became so enraged that he threatened all members of Arlene's family that he would kill everyone if Arlene even thought of bringing another screaming baby into his house.  Evidently, everyone in the family felt he was capable of such (rumor has it he was eventually sent to prison).  As a result of Roy's threats, Arlene and her parents made arrangements with friends, Gerhard and Helen Renken, who would adopt her child.  Though they had tried for years, the Renkens were unable to have children of their own.  Arlene had always wanted a little girl, and when this, her third child, a daughter, was born, she was heartbroken that her baby girl would be raised by someone else.  Fortunately, because the two families were friends, Arlene was able to watch Penny grow.  After some time, however, the pain became unbearable, and she stopped visiting the Renken family.  Being unable to hold and kiss her baby girl, hearing her call another woman 'momma' became too much for Arlene to bear.  Arlene extracted promises from all family members, that for as long as she was alive, no one was to tell her children she ever gave up one of her babies.  The last thing she wanted was for any of them to wonder when she might give them away, too.  After hearing these tragic stories of Arlene's life, I was able to better understand (and not take offense) when upon announcing to Ron's family that we were expecting our first child, my father-in-law, David Zook, got really quiet and said, "You know, Arlene was a real good mom.  She never left the kids with a sitter.  They were with her wherever she went." (A philosophy my mother-in-law and I did not share, by the way.)

In 1954, Arlene met and married David Jonathan Zook, who later adopted both Ron and Larry as his own.  My father-in-law once told me that when he met Arlene, she was a waitress at a restaurant in Sweet Home, which he often frequented.  Over time, he got to know Arlene, and saw her struggling to eke out a living to raise her two boys on her own.  It was his admiration and respect for her that motivated him to ask her to marry him.  That, and the fact he knew "Those two boys needed a father to guide them."  Through this union, Arlene gave birth to another daughter, Connie Jean.

L-R: Ron Zook, Connie Zook, Larry Zook (circa 1956)

Throughout Arlene's remaining years on this earth, her children never knew they had another sister.  However, Ron once told me that even as a child, he always had the feeling someone was missing in the family, but never thought to talk to his mom about it.  Ron was four years old when Penny was born and given up for adoption, so perhaps he did remember something.

The Zook family was a happy family, and for the most part, life was good.  Ron remembers his mother as a great cook, and a very good artist (her specialty was sketching people).  She loved pansies, and the smell of lilacs in the Spring.  In her spare time, Arlene liked to read romance novels and enjoyed visiting with the neighbors, all the while taking excellent care of her family.

In 1967, Ron was serving in Thailand with the Air Force, when he learned his mother, Arlene, was dying.  He was given a compassionate reassignment so he could be closer to home.  In 1968 Arlene died, and after burying his mom, Ron had to finish out his tour in Vietnam.  A few months after arriving in Nam, and during mail call, he received a fancy envelope, with fancy handwriting, and smelling of fancy perfume.  Of course, Ron's Air Force buddies teased him about having a girl back home, but he just figured it was from a High School girl whose English class was given an assignment to write letters to servicemen for a class project (which was common during the war).  Upon opening the envelope, this picture fell on the ground (the marks are tiny scratches, due to the photo being carried around in Ron's wallet for many years after he received it):

Penny Renken (HS Graduation Photo)

The letter accompanying the photo started out with something like: "Dear Ron, you don't know who I am, but my name is Penny, and I am your sister!  I've always dreamed of having a big brother, and can't wait to meet you!"  She then continued, relating to her big brother the story she had been told by her parents about the circumstances of her birth.

When Ron and I were married in December 1974, all of Arlene's children were in our wedding party

(I like to think Arlene was there, too):

L-R: Penny Sinclair, Connie Zook, Me, Ron, & Larry Zook

And in about 1977, we all got together for Christmas at Leon and Penny's house:

Standing (L-R): Ron Zook, Larry Zook

Sitting (L-R): Penny Sinclair, Grandma Floyd (Arlene's mother), Connie Zook

In May of 1981, being only 30 years old, Penny died of complications due to diabetes.  I like to think, that for the first time, Penny was then, finally, able to meet the woman who not only gave her life, but loving parents, two big brothers, and a younger sister, as well.  I look forward to the day when I, too, will have the opportunity to meet Arlene.  I hope to tell her about her grandchildren and great-grandchildren (though I suspect she already knows about them).  I want to thank her for raising a mischievous little boy into an amazing man who is full of love and kindness and laughter.

I long to hear her stories of what Ron was REALLY like as a child. 

Arlene and Ron (circa 1949)

But most of all,

I want to just give her a hug, thank her for all the sacrifices she made as a mom,

and for being a constant presence in our home.

(And then, I hope she doesn't scold me for leaving dirty dishes in the sink the night she came to visit.)