Founded in 1911 by three Danish immigrants, the dream for a safe place to live and raise Danish families began. Buying large tracts of land for farming, homes, and a town started what is known as Solvang.
 
A “sunny field” indeed.
The place is undeniably charming, even with it’s throngs of tourists flooding the small town streets. I feel like a character out of a Hans Christian Anderson story, perhaps a lone ogre or an elderly dwarf.
Maybe I’m a cobbler, looking for work so that I too can feed my family living on my small spot of land here in America.
 
Perhaps I’m a lone prince, looking for a princess in the fairy land of opportunity.
After all, I have roots in this culture, this place of Danish immigrants.
 
A place reminiscent of the hopes and dreams of all immigrants looking to come here.
 
At least, I do hope that we can continue to keep that dream alive.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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