Before our ancestors immigrated from Sweden, they lived in dahls, or valleys. Each dahl had its own peculiar accent, clothing styles, etc. Once these people came to the Middle West and settled on farms, the farming communities became substitute dahls. In a time when a 3-mile drive into town was considered a once a week for church affair, much of the social life in rural Illinois centered around one-room school houses. Illinois is part of the old Northwest Territory, in which roads were laid out in mile square grids. The land was divided into sections, a section being a piece of land 1 mile by 1 mile, with one lot out of every 16 being reserved for a school house. Attending school in these one-room school houses bonded many people together for life. In addition, neighbors would band together to make hay, harvest crops, fight house and barn fires, and take care of other neighborhood problems.
My dad, Lowell Bjorling, grew up southeast of the small town of Altona, Illinois. As a boy, Dad walked to the local school house along with other neighborhood children. Dad’s family eventually relocated to a farm northeast of Altona; however, Dad graduated from Walnut Grove Township High School in Altona along with his friends from grade school. One of the other families in the neighborhood was the Ab Erickson family, and Ab’s son Emory went to school with Dad. Later, Emory farmed in the area where he had grown up and had children who attended school with me.
Emory’s daughter Marilyn and I met in Mrs. Kathryn Stuckey’s first grade class. By that time, the ROVA Consolidated School System #208 had been formed and the former high schools in the respective towns were now the local grade schools. (ROVA was an acronym representing the first letters of the four small towns-Rio, Oneida, Victoria, and Altona. Later, the Wataga school system would also be added, changing the name to ROWVA.) In those days, three bus routes fed children into the Altona Grade School, and Marilyn rode the bus from her neighborhood while I rode a different bus.
From the time we first met, I always found Marilyn to be bright, cheerful, and positive. Frankly, I don’t remember Marilyn ever complaining or having a bad word for anybody. Marilyn was a good student with nice hand writing. It’s no surprise that she later earned a Master’s degree in Education and worked as a substitute teacher. Coming from a farm, Marilyn certainly would have helped her dad with chores and other tasks such as building fence on the weekends. That’s what all of us did in those days before factory farms with automated set-ups. Marilyn had a great sense of humor, and we would sometimes share stories of farm work, school, and our reactions. We were also both members of the Altona Girls 4-H Club, cooking and sewing and pursuing other projects. Eventually, we also graduated from ROVA High School together.
As adults, Marilyn and I saw each other only sporadically, rather like a trapeze act. I remember meeting Marilyn in Bishop Hill for some event and chatting with Marilyn at class reunions. Once we became Facebook friends, it was easier to keep up, and we did so.
We were horrified when Marilyn’s beloved husband Steve suffered a brain injury after falling off a ladder while making repairs on his farm. Steve lingered in the hospital for several months, and we were praying for healing, but he eventually died. We liked Steve enormously, although we didn’t get much opportunity to interact with him during our visits to the U.S.
We last saw Marilyn in late August or early September 2024. My husband and I were speaking about our mission work at Immanuel Lutheran Church in Altona, and Marilyn traveled 40 or more miles from her farm home near New Boston, IL, to hear us speak. Somehow, I learned that Marilyn had cancer; however, I had no idea that the cancer had recurred and was spreading throughout her body.
My friend died on a sunny February 3, 2025, in her lovely home surrounded by her family. Marilyn was a strong Christian, a long-time member of Seaton Presbyterian Church, and I have no doubt that Steve and she have now been reunited in heaven.
It’s been said that old age is not for sissies, and while part of the aging process is dealing with a failing body, losing long-time friends is another painful aspect of that process. On Marilyn’s tribute page from the funeral home, I wrote that in a world of flashy roses, Marilyn was a pansy. Unfortunately, the term “pansy” has come to refer to someone who is weak and a pushover; however, that idea fails to accurately describe pansies as flowers. Roses are showy and sometimes have an overpowering fragrance; yet, they can be disappointing for they may have little or no scent while they also have thorns. Roses are very picky about the soil, watering, etc. Pansies are sturdy flowers that withstand rigorous changes in climate and continue to bloom wherever you plant them. Unassuming, pansies will continue to give great pleasure without disappointment.
Marilyn Erickson Willits lived a life of quiet grace, raising two sons and blessing the community where she lived. Marilyn was a faithful church member and touched many lives through her work there as well.
Proverbs 10:7 says that “the memory of the righteous is a blessing.” For Marilyn’s family and friends, I say that Marilyn’s memory is a great blessing. I am proud and glad and privileged to have called her my friend.
Jean Bjorling Young, ROVA ‘66
Saboba, Northern Region, Ghana
Burunche's Blog 