NORMAN BANSEN (1920–2004) A REMEMBRANCE

Tall, erect, a confidant stride. Luminescent blue eyes, set off by rich brown, sun tanned cheeks and forehead. Hair, once blond, then silver, combed back. Occasionally, a neatly trimmed goatee. With age, a more pronounced Adam’s apple and sagging fold of skin (or “glug glug” as our children called it when they were little) under the chin. A rich, mellifluous voice, quick to laugh, even to guffaw.

A home across from the campus with touches of Scandinavian, Japanese and northern California design. A terraced garden, overlooking the Missouri River valley. Daffodils, irises, red poppies, hosta, Japanese maples, sumac, and a cottonwood tree planted by chance. Linden trees from Berlin, and beech trees from Odense, the city of Hans Christian Andersen’s birth.

Roast pork with prunes, Medisterpølser, Frikadeller, browned new potatoes and red cabbage or Rødkaal. Æbleskiver, wienerbrød pastry, and cookies: Spritz, Macaroons, Pecan Sandies. The first, tart rhubarb pie of spring, autumn’s first hot apple pie, or just a small bowl of ice cream. And always coffee.

Drinking coffee in the Dragon’s Head. Telling stories of old Danish-American pastors, their wives and members of the United Evangelical Lutheran Church, stories of former Dana College presidents, professors and students, stories of bicycling in Denmark, stories of traveling by jeep and airplane in India during and following World War II, stories of migrating annually from Nebraska to Northern California for summer vacations and visits to the city, his city, San Francisco. Spouting off at politicians, administrators, church officials, and sometimes colleagues, but quick to forget.

Fourth-floor Pioneer Memorial. The brown, wood-paneled walls matching the slope of the gabled roof, punctuated by two small alcove windows. Black boards securely fastened to red brick walls. A vinyl, accordion divider bisecting the large classroom. Long library tables arranged in a flat, u-shape, the open end facing the black boards. In that open space, a small table with black Formica top from which he would teach.

Class assignments: acting out Atsumori, a Noh drama; singing the songs of Carl Michael Bellman and the hymns of N.F.S. Grundtvig. Talk of poets: Rabindranath Tagore, Walt Whitman, Adam Oehlenschlager, T.S. Eliot, Johannes Ewald. Talk of storytellers: Karen Blixen, Sigrid Undset, Willa Cather, Yukio Mishima, Yasunari Kawabata, Snorri Sturlusson, Haldor Laxness. Talk, interspersed with personal stories. Talk of student writing, finding at least an image or phrase to praise or affirm, occasionally a gentle, if ironic comment about lack of preparation. An invitation to his home for æbleskiver.

Each of us who knew or studied with Norman Bansen carries his or her own memories and impressions of this man. He was not an academic in the traditional sense, but through his passion for life and for the world around him, he encouraged us to discover our own worlds. In this he was a teacher.

— John Mark Nielsen ’73
A student, colleague and friend.

Norman C. Bansen, long time English professor at Dana College, died on Jan. 21 at the Good Shepherd Home in Blair.
He came to Dana as a freshman in 1939. After serving in the U.S. Army from 1942 to 1946, much of the time as a captain stationed in India, he returned to Dana where he received his bachelor’s degree in 1947.

Following a few years as director of public relations at Dana, he joined the faculty as an instructor of English. In 1970 Bansen was named to the Order of the Knights of Dannebrog by Frederik IX, King of Denmark, and in 1980 he was awarded an honorary doctorate by Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. Dana College designated him a Distinguished Alumnus in 1991.

His love of gardening, literature, travel and the Danish heritage marked his non-academic life, but Bansen’s greatest contribution was as a teacher. In this role he inspired and affirmed Dana students over a period of four decades.

The family suggests memorials be given to a Bansen Scholarship Fund at Dana College.