That name thing is a killer for some children and grandchildren of immigrants.
After two trips to Sweden and 60 years of using the name “Johnson,” I still didn’t know whether my last name was really “Jonsson,” “Jönsson,” or “Johansson” until last year. My dad used to say, “we’re here now, our name is JOHNSON and that’s that.” That OLD immigrant attitude. You don’t hear that much anymore.
I got into a phone conversation with a first cousin from Seattle a few months ago and she said she knew the answer: “YOU are a Jonsson because you are on my mom’s side and Scanian but I am a Johansson with a dad from northern Sweden and a mom-—your dad’s sister-—from Scania.
Wow, the poor thing is a “Johnson” twice. Gets confusing. At least she knew the story. Every family needs a historian.
Perhaps we’re related. :~) I have a relative named Svenborg Jonsson born 1848 in Fjalkestad, Kristianstad, Skane, Sweden.