THE STORY THAT MADE THEM CRY: CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NOVEMBER 26, 2023

AT HOME WITH A PRAIRIE COMPANION

ANOKA, MN – DECEMBER 10, 1994

On that early Saturday evening, Mother and Dad cut a classic Norman Rockwellian image as they sat in the living room, their ears and eyes focused on the stereo tuner. Along with the rest of the national audience of around four million, the couple had long been ardent fans of Garrison Keillor’s weekly radio show, A Prairie Home Companion.

The showman’s Democratic politics mattered none. What won Mother and Dad’s loyalty was Garrison’s humor and soft parody of small-town life in “Lake Wobegon.” The skits, sound effects, and vast array of musical offerings were also a big hit. Moreover, many of the characters in Garrison’s monologues were fully recognizable to Mother and Dad—sometimes outright by their names; more often by their characteristics. No fiction is cut entirely from new cloth, and Garrison’s story-telling drew heavily from Anoka, where he’d attended high school; the Lake Wobegonian town where his large extended family had been centered. Several of his siblings and many of his cousins had been schoolmates of my older sisters; a few of his cousins had been my classmates—one had been among my best friends throughout grade school.

It was not uncommon to hear in the midst of a monologue the name of a well known Anoka High School coach or English teacher or parent of some close friend of my older sisters. Whenever that occurred, Mother and Dad—and fellow fans among their Anoka friends and neighbors—got an insider’s extra laugh out of Garrison’s often rambling, always humorous weekly yarn.

On that December 12, however, the “insiders” heard something extra.

“And now,” Garrison announced in his signature baritone voice, “we’re gonna hear the Nilsson sisters—Kristina, Elsa, and Jenny Lind—perform a movement of a concerto for three violins by J.S. Bach.”

My sisters’ appearance had developed out of several previous connections emanating indirectly from Anoka and directly out of the orchestral careers of my two oldest sisters.

Years before, Kristina (Nina) had helped form the Boston based chamber orchestra, Pro Arte. Fundraising for an arts organization is a constant endeavor, and in its early years, Pro Arte was looking for novel ways to promote itself. When her compatriots learned that Nina was from the famous radio personality’s home town, they leaned on her to write to him about making an appearance with Pro Arte at the auditorium of famous Filene’s Basement department store in Boston.

Given Garrison’s rigorous schedule and demands on his time, Nina thought it was a long shot, but her musician friends pressed her to try. Given her championship debating skills, law school education, and unrivaled command of English, Nina was a master of persuasive writing. Once she dedicated her considerable energy to the task, she turned out an irresistible letter: not only would Garrison make an appearance; he would lead an entire two-hour, nationally broadcast version of A Prairie Home Companion at Filene’s Basement, centered entirely on Pro Arte and its fundraising efforts.

His monologue for that show featured a violinist named, “Kristina.”

A subsequent connection with the “Nilsson violinists” involved Elsa, who was a member of the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra—the only full-time chamber orchestra in the entire country. Despite its uniqueness and musical excellence, however, in the early 90s the ensemble had fallen into serious financial disrepair and was in danger of failing altogether. Summoned to its rescue was none other than . . . Garrison.

He did his part and then some, leading an entire production showcasing the SPCO. The show was called, The Young Lutheran’s Guide to the Orchestra, in parodic reference to Leonard Bernstein’s famous series, The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra. All proceeds of the effort, including CD sales, were donated to the orchestra, rescuing it from collapse and putting it on the road to permanent financial recovery, continued musical success and eventual world acclaim.

In the course of the project, of course, Garrison became well-acquainted with the musicians, including Elsa, who, as the creator of Lake Wobegon would learn, was a classmate of his sister . . . . Linda.

In the course of these musical encounters, Garrison learned of a third sister, Jenny, also a violinist. This gave him the idea of a violin trio—and an appearance on A Prairie Home Companion. It so happened that previously, the Nilsson sisters had performed the Bach concerto for three violins with Pro Arte at Harvard’s Sanders Theatre. It was the only time that the three had ever performed together in public. A movement from that piece, everyone agreed, would fit perfectly within the eclectic band of musical selections on Garrison’s show—one scheduled for December at the Kennedy Center in Washington. Nina would have to travel down from Boston; Elsa, from St. Paul. Jenny, more conveniently, happened to be living in Manhattan, where she was pursuing a free-lance career.

The sisters played magnificently, and the live audience gave its boisterous approval. If Mother was pleased with her daughters’ achievements over the years, she never let on. Dad, on the other hand, always basked in them, and on that occasion he beamed from the comfort of his living room chair in his Lake Wobegon home.

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© 2023 by Eric Nilsson