(Norman L. Solem, 1935-2024)

One of the greatest gifts a person can receive is the knowledge that everything, everywhere is not like it is where they come from. 

As a little boy, I spent countless weekends at a house on Walker Ave. in Deptford, NJ. The house belonged to the mighty Signe.

My grandmother had a yard with a flag pole that was taller than her house. She loved to help me unfurl a flag that was red, white, and blue, except this flag only had a few stripes, and there were no stars.

Family photos adorned every wall of that house. Everybody looked so … blond!

I was surrounded by so many people who really had a good time together playing cards and board games. And they liked to drink beer, some of them continuously. That’s how I got my nickname “Michelob.” 

Sometimes, strangers would show up at the front door of that house on Walker Ave. They spoke words that only my grandmother seemed to understand. They brought treats with them, including chocolate bars that didn’t taste like Hershey’s; and cheese that didn’t belong on a cheesesteak because it was too nutty and sweet and brown; and tubes of pink paste that I learned the hard way was not meant for a toothbrush.

Norman was the captain of the Viking ship that transported me into that world. Because of that, my childhood was filled with feelings of anticipation and joy. That’s really significant for a young person, because when you combine those two emotions, you get optimism. And you can’t survive in this world without it.

I like to think of my Dad as the Great Protector.

He served in the Navy, and after that the NJ State Police, and after that he freelanced and took fingerprints. He even fingerprinted the Rolling Stones in Atlantic City. I’m just glad he let them off the hook.

My Dad always seemed in control of his emotions, especially the negative ones. I can’t think of one time when he raised his voice in anger toward me or anybody. I think that’s because he knew that it would be hurtful.

He protected people from loneliness, and that’s especially important when people are sick and their health is declining. He was a constant presence for his beloved Eloise, his brothers and sisters, and so many friends when their lives became shadowed by disease and infirmity.

In the end, he protected himself by committing an act of transcendence and freedom that was every bit as courageous as his mother and father stepping onto that vessel in the Port of Trondheim over a century ago.

He protected us all with his humor. He told jokes that made you laugh the first time or the 100th time you heard it.

Who else would you pick to dress up like Santa Claus at Bernice’s Christmas parties? I liked his version of Santa because he was skinny and he drank beer. And when it came time to give out presents, he’d pinch people on the butt as they sat down on his lap. You know, any good cop is going to tell you it’s important to be vigilant. 

I think all of my father’s values and attributes are in short supply these days and that is why everybody is really going to miss him.

SKÅL, VIKING!