As Bengt Persson was leading his horse to a stall three figures appeared in the stable entrance. Silhouetted against the lamplight, Bengt could make out the two men from the pub and their dog. The men were carrying large clubs. They unleashed their dog. Growling, the mongrel leaped at Bengt. Bengt caught the animal in his large hands and threw the dog out the doorway and into the square where it landed with a yelp. Then he leaped onto his horse. One of the men reached and had his hand on the bridle, but Bengt spurred the horse with his heels and was out the door before he could be stopped. Well before dawn, Heine Moeller came awake in the seamen"s quarters with a start. He stopped breathing while he listened. He heard only the breathing of his shipmates. There it was. A shadow in the doorway. Motionless. Just the silhouette of a head and shoulder, a Panama hat. The shadow vanished without a sound. Heine stared at the doorway, trying to make his eyes pierce the darkness. He carefully eased his body up onto the edge of his bunk and lowered himself to the deck. He inched his way toward the doorway. Breathing heavily, his mouth dry, Heine stepped through the doorway onto the deck. He saw a dark shape near the corner of the fo"csle. Then the shape came rushing at him. Heine tried to scream, but nothing came out. He struggled to make a sound, but could only gasp. Through these and other stories the author tells about his parents and ancestors. Beginning in the early 19th century, the stories include tales from the ancestral homeland; the adventures of immigrant forebears; and true-to-life narratives about pioneer days, Depression-era hardship, love and romance, war-time experiences, and more.