My Story 12.1

Every once in a while the church organized a youth conference somewhere in Holland. At first we attended without any noble thoughts, we were just out for "keet schoppen" (some slightly rowdy fun). And indeed we enjoyed ourselves being in another city and free from parental control. As we grew up, gradually we became more serious and realized that this that this was a golden opportunity to meet new girls. And that in a respectable Christian setting!

I remember one time we boarded the church bus to Eindhoven. It was a long bouncy ride, and a long bouncy ride back. But it would all be worth while if you established a new relationship. I do not remember any of the sermons we had to expose ourselves to. I am sure that God used that ministry to keep many of us on the straight-and-narrow. When it was over I remember that I was a bit disappointted because I had not met any interesting girls. Going back ,I found a seat on the bus, and when I looked up a girl had taken the place in front of me. All I could see of course was her pretty red hair that bounced in front of me. After a while she began to stir uncomfortably, I understood she was trying to take a nap, but the designers of the bus had placed a chrome tube where your head meets the back of the seat.

For myself, I had rolled some gloves in my scarf, using that as a pillow. After watching her struggle for a while I offered my little pillow to the young lady. She got off in Amsterdam. She turned, gave me my improvised pillow back, and kissed me on the cheek. Inside my pillow was a note with her name and address.

Suddenly my trip to Eindhoven was a great success. After a week or so I decided to go visit her. That was really the first time I had a good look at her face. But what really freaked me out is that she had cut her pretty hair, and now sported a bunch of ugly stubble. Why do women do that!? It is like saying: "Would you still like me if I was ugly?" Of course not! At least not at that age. Young guys are shallow; how she looks is more inportant then how she cooks! Other then that, we really had nothing in common. No redeeming qualities, I decided. Well, I just tell it the way I saw it!

My story 28

In the early seventies we were attending Ness avenue Baptist Church. The atmosphere at the time was, well, jovial I would say. I volunteered to do the posters, announcing the special events from time to time.

The day after I quit TransAir one of the members at church, Ben H. phoned me. He worked for the Winnipeg Bible College, and they had special meetings coming up to promote the College. Could I do the posters for them? They offered to pay, because there would be a fair bit of expense in materials, and I had no job as of yesterday. I bought the materials and set up the desk and went to work. That turned out to be my first order in my new career. Before I was finished I had several additional orders, including a 4' X 8' sign promoting a new business. I had no problem with design an lay-out because of training earlier in life. But the biggest problem was to find the correct materials, and new paints, and the brushes they use nowadays for lettering. That was all new to me. I visited a number of other sign shops and looked at the brand names, and asked who the suppliers were.

Credit management was hard on me and I ended up on medication for High Blood Pressure. The Sign Business was relaxing, at least at first. Then I ran an small ad for about six months, and I came to a point where it could support the family. It was not always easy, we had severe ups and downs. We would save up some money, then lost it again during a slack periods.

Often I would smell up the house with the pungent odours of the various paints and thinners. And not once did Trudy complain about that. If you know what sensitive sense of smell God had planted in that nose, you will realize that this was close to miracle!

So with me painting in the basement, Trudy doing housekeeping, the scene was set for a new baby. Actually, we had not exactly planned it this way. Trudy would have rather continued working for Eaton's and explore her ability to earn a good salary. Seems God had other plans, He had an other blessing in mind for us; Yvonne. All in all we were totally overjoyed to hold our little girl. She was a real blessing, she still is today!

My Story 27

In 1967 Our second son, Paul, announced his presence to this world. He was a big jolly baby, and you could not help falling in love with him from day one! Those days from 1964 to 1968 I was the Credit Manager for Redekopp Lumber. I was promised a raise beginning in January 1968. In lieu of a raise I negotiated to use this amount for a down payment on a house that the company was building. That was going to be our house. Until one day I heard via the grapevine the house was sold to somebody else. I felt betrayed and angry. But things like that happened once in a while, a good profit is better then keeping a promise , at least to some people. OK, then in my logic I needed a retroactive raise!

I never got it, and decided it was time to quit. I found a job in Brandon, Manitoba, at Simplot Chemicals. Simplot was an American Company, who had branched out into Canada. They generously paid for our move over to Brandon. My job started with setting up a Credit Policy with the lawyers and seek the approval of various managers as well as Head Office. It took me a year and a half to do that, and every body was satisfied. Then I had to train our sales staff in the Credit and securities required of their new customers. Everything ran smoothly, and I did not have enough work to do anymore to keep me busy.

I kind of knew this was coming! But the way they went about it was unprofessional. I received a call from the Credit Institute in Winnipeg that my job was in the paper. I marched over to my manager and demanded to know what was going on. They had decided to combine the Credit function with another function for which I was not qualified. That may be so, but I don't think I deserve to be treated like this. They apologized and gave me a generous separation package.

I found another job soon, Back in Winnipeg. TransAir! That was the worst job I ever had. In just two years I had four different managers. The fourth was unbelievable. Within five weeks all of our billing clerks were gone, and no one knew how to operate the National Cash Billing Machines. If you do not send out your bills, you will interrupt the flow of incoming money and in addition pay heavy for an overdraft at the bank.

Mr. Packer called me into his office. "Why are you not collecting enough money lately, you are slipping!" I had enough! I decided I was going to be honest. " Mr. Packer it is your own fault. You should have hired staff by now to do billing, you are now two months behind, and that means millions of dollars I cannot collect. He turned red in his face, and shouted "I am going to fire you". I said " No, I am going to quit". I did and I went to the nearest phone and told Trudy, "That's all right", she said, It was a lousy job anyway".

The next day I went fishing, to unwind and seek the Lord about this. My brother John was over with us for a visit and he came fishing with me. It is not often that God speaks to you, but He often plants little signs along your path. The following day I heard a friend from church had called, and it was that call that introduced me to the sign business.

My Story 26

During 1962 Trudy got pregnant, at least that is what we thought. But the entrance into motherhood did not follow normal development. At last the doctor concluded that the baby had died, and Trudy went into Misericordia Hospital for a "scraping" (D&C). It was then that they saw what really had happened. She had a "partial mole pregnancy".

I will let the doctor explain:

The formal medical term for a molar pregnancy is “hydatidiform mole.” Simply put, a molar pregnancy is an abnormality of the placenta (afterbirth), caused by a problem when the egg and sperm join together at fertilization.

A partial mole occurs when 2 sperm fertilize an egg. Instead of forming twins, something goes wrong, leading to a pregnancy with an abnormal fetus and an abnormal placenta. The baby has too many chromosomes and almost always dies in the uterus. Thus, molar pregnancies are “accidents of nature” that are not anyone’s fault.

The doctor (Doctor Blouw) took me aside and said: "After removing it we send it to the lab. If the result is negative you will have your wife back in a couple of days. If it is malignant you might as well start making arrangements for the funeral". OUCH! That was a tactless way of saying it, and it caused me some sleepless nights. Thank God, the lab tests were negative (not malignant).

There was a long follow-up, and we were told to avoid pregnancy for at least a year. Everything worked out. Two years later, in 1964 our patience was, and still is today, richly rewarded by the arrival of our son Ron. Ron was born in the old Grace Hospital on Arlington street. Right after he was born I remember going home for a rest and a sandwich. Then it dawned on me that my life was again about to change. What an enormous responsibly to support and guide the little fellow. It was 1964, July 1st, and apparently that day we were not alone in our celebrations! (Canadians celebrate Canada Day on the first of July, a national holiday!)

my Story 18.3

While driving the Ford F5 Army Truck I was involved in some minor fender benders. The ones that were my own fault do not need to be discussed here. But there was this time we were sent on an assignment, and trying to find the right route, we had to drive through a small town. The streets were narrow. A sign indicated we had to turn right into a one-way street that was even narrower. Shops lined both sides of the street and the pavement was uneven. A dip in the surface made my truck lean a bit to the right side, causing the top of the canvas, that covered my load space, to hit an awning.

We had been instructed never to say, or indicate in any way that the accident was our fault. There are highly specialized insurance experts who will judge the situation, and determine who is at fault. So, by the time I had stepped out of the truck the storekeeper emerged from the building, spilling his entire vocabulary of swearwords. The awning was toast, torn, broken and bent out of shape. I reported the accident to the proper military authorities. About three weeks later I was called into the office. "It was not your fault", was the verdict. The store owner never applied for a permit from the local authorities to install that awning. In addition , the awning stuck out eight inches farther then allowed in that street. Until today, I never discuss with the other party in an accident who is to blame . Even to say: "I did not see you", points the blame to yourself.

The Ford F5 had terrible brakes. With a full load you had to stomp on brake pedal with your full weight. One day we were on an assignment to haul cannons for the artillery branch. Our senior officer was a university graduate drafted after the completion of his courses. So he was a few years older. From day one they would rank above us with no more experience in military life then we had. But this guy was always friendly. I liked him. He ordered me to hook up a trailer that had no brakes itself. I said that this was not safe to hook it up to my truck, which already had weak brakes. "Never mind, --Hook it up!" Sure enough a couple of hours later when the truck in front of me made a sudden stop, I rear-ended him.

About half an hour later he called me over and said something like this: "I know what you said earlier, and that makes it my fault. I will probably lose my rank. Unless of course you do not mention that in your report. All you will get is two or three days light arrest (not able to leave the grounds) ". I agreed immediately to do that for him. That can only do me good, right? And I don't care about that light arrest, I stayed in most of the time anyway.

My Story 18.2

Religion, your belief in God, and a glorious afterlife, becomes solidly integrated in your personality. It becomes part of you. When I was a kid I looked forward to school. After that my goal was graduation, then a career, marriage, children, retirement, and then.....nothing. For a man with a belief in God, however, the future reaches beyond the grave and is eternal in nature. That is an enormous improvement as compared to those who think that death is the end. How can you treat that lightly?

Consequently, I decided that I would basically stick with what was handed me by my family tradition. That already gives me an identity. Looking around nowadays you see a number of changes, in my opinion, a decline in values. Parent used to teach their children to accept their morals, that is not so much evident anymore. Some of the things I never heard in years gone by: "Are you keeping the baby?" Or: "Do you know who the father is?"

In 1956 I started to work for General Distributors, that later changed to Gendis. It was owned and run by the five well known Cohen Brothers. After a while it became part of my job to purchase the office supplies, from paperclips to adding machines. One sales lady called on me consistently with her products, a little higher priced usually. She came in one day and beamed "I am taking you out for lunch". Where we were going was a "surprise". She took me to a hotel on Ellice were there was entertainment during lunch. Entertainment meaning a stripper! It violated every value I had, but I was perfectly charming about the whole thing. After all, my hostess was a lady, she was Jewish and she was a friend of the Cohen brothers.

At General Distributors I ended up in the Credit Department, and encouraged by my supervisor I took up studies in Credit management. In 1964 I received my diploma and worked several places as Credit Manager. In 1968 I became Credit Manager for Simplot Chemicals in Brandon. I made a field trip with some sales men who were looking for new clients for our company. From a Credit perspective some new accounts were unacceptable, to the chagrin of the sales person. In a small town in Manitoba we had our meeting in the local hotel, the only place in town that served a decent meal. And, you guessed it, a stripper. On another occasion I ended up in a Poker Night, and observed those evils first hand. One guy blew his whole paycheck. I am not judging anybody, that is God's job. I just know know my values, and where I stand. That is the way I chose to live.

My Story 18.1

Just before I left for Canada in 1956, I made my mom and dad a promise that, after a while was impossible to keep. I promised that I would write every week!

In the beginning, in Winnipeg, I pretty well kept that promise. There were so many things that were totally different here in Canada, and I had enough material to report weekly. One of the things I remember was that when winter came they sanded the streets , which resulted in mud on the windows of your car. I had to take the bus in the beginning and I could not tell where I was because of the dirty windows. Quite a contrast with Holland, where they kept all vehicles squeaky clean. And Potholes in the spring. I had not seen it that bad in Holland anywhere.

But sooner or later you run out of things to report. My letters became shorter until I literally sent a letter: " Dear mom and dad, .....nothing to report, ..... Love Theo." I could not write interesting letters each week anymore. Later on when small reel-to-reel tape recorders came on the market, and I tried communicating with that. Until I found out that they usually put it aside and did not listen to it. Mainly because they had to borrow a tape recorder from somebody first!

I always looked forward to hearing from Holland. I have six brothers and two sisters, I wrote them all, none of them wrote back, and I began to realize that I had left that scene, and started this new life without help from anybody. Eventually, you develop a new circle of friends, mainly through work, and church.

At first, when staying with he Young's I attended the First Baptist Church, but that was boring. Then I looked around for something more "alive". In spite of the serious warning from the Youngs I checked out Calvary Temple, the main Pentecostal church in town. Mrs Young had warned me to avoid what she called " the Holy Rollers". You know me, I had to see this. The minute I walked in I sensed an atmosphere, well, the Holy Spirit in that meeting. At the end of the service people went forward and knelt down to pray. OK. Then some went weird. I stay after sitting in the pew to see how this would end. After about ten minutes Pastor Barber spotted me and came over to talk. I said I enjoyed everything, except the emotional display after the service. He said: "Please don't judge us by that, unfortunately there is always a few people like that around." I suppose then, I could call myself a moderate Pentecostal.

My Story 16.4

Yet another story from your favourite Freedom Fighter!! We were transported in the back of a truck to a remote place in Holland. Traveling in the back of a truck was the common way of transportation for us soldiers, the trucks had folding seat arrangements. We arrived at The Harskamp, a shooting range with minimal accommodation. Almost as harsh as it sounds.

There was no warm water, meals were very basic. As I remember, for supper we received each a tin can ration. You punch a small steam hole in it and throw it in the fire. After a while it is supposed to be warm. Then comes the real challenge, open the hot little can with the tools you have, or don't have, to get to the goodies. You find out soon enough that the outside was burnt, and the inner part ice cold. But we were hungry. I bowed my head and silently said grace: "Lord, Bless this food..." and adding: " That better work ". The Prayer, that is. This method of feeding your army was invented by an idiot!

It was cold. In the evening we had running water, in the morning everything was frozen. My cantine next to my bed had some water left in it, in the morning: ice!

I had gone to sleep without undressing, even kept my baret on!

We kept our self busy playing cards. Until our turn came up for the shooting range. We were handed ten shells at the time, and if you managed to get nine in the target, you were done for the day. One of our card playing buddies was a really bad shot. I think he missed the target four times. We decided to help him out. The next round we placed nine shots in our own target, then one in his. Our friend, the bad shooter ended up with eleven hits. Everything stopped, while the sergeant figured this out. We acted like we did not know what he was talking about, and we were soon playing cards again.

Apart from that nothing significant happened, except may be that our sergeant-major was nowhere to be found.The MP (Militairy Police) were called in to search and they soon found him together with a lady of ill repute. He was later demoted.

My story 7.1

Bicycles! After the war Dutchmen moved around on bicycles. Dad went to work on his bike, we kids went to school on our bikes, workers, bosses, teachers, everybody. The police was always out there handing out tickets should you break any of the traffic rules. Really!

During the "great" vacation, the summer holidays, I toured Holland on the bike, together with my brother. It took months to organize this by mail. Except for businesses, nobody had telephones yet in those days. We would write remote friends and family if we could spend a night at their place during one of those tours. When all had replied we could plan our route. Some days we covered a few kilometres, other days were long and tiring.

Most of the details of those trips we made are by now totally forgotten. But there were some highlights I remember. One day we passed a shepherd tending his sheep. Henk and I stopped and we wanted to see what that was like. After all, shepherds were in the stories of the birth of Jesus. I think this shepherd was sitting there all day without moving as his dog did all the work. He was not much of a talker, but he insisted to try out my harmonica, that I always carried with me those days. I was not thrilled have him suck on my "mouth organ" as we called it. But could that guy play!

Down the road we arrived at the destination of the day. We did not expect a great welcome, but we also didn't expect what happened! They pointed us to the haystack and we spent the night there among the chickens. They did give us a sandwich, but we never entered the house.

On a long stretch of road a truck passed us, and we went to grab a hold of a rope and let the driver pull us for a few miles. The cops stopped us, and yes, we got a ticket.

We always rode via the "Betuwe", a region with countless orchards. An acquaintance owned one of those orchards, and let us pick all the fruit we could eat. The next day Henk was sick. He hitchhiked home and I got on my bike, pushing his, backpack and all.

On another occasion we rode into Belgium. Now, our parents had warned us to avoid Catholics, (as many Protestants in those days looked down on Catholics for their beliefs) and Catholics were numerous in Belgium. Sure enough, close to Antwerp a priest pulled up and said in his friendliest tone, and in a strong Belgian accent: "Hi, young men, where are you going?" Henk said, and this is a rather mild translation: "Bugger off!!!" And he did. I am sure he will remember the day he met real Christians. And, yes, I am sticking to the story, that it was Henk who said it!

My Story 25

May 20 1960 was coming closer, the date of our wedding. That was exactly 30 days after Trudy's arrival in Canada. In those days Immigration was sped up if you committed yourself to marriage within 30 days. Anything to cut the red tape, right? Anyways, it would not make sense to have a beautiful young lady waiting in the wings, and then to withhold the commitment of Marriage. So, May 20 it is. The Friday before the long weekend.

You must understand that I was still paying for my car, and for my trip to Holland. I also had to pay part of the airfare for Trudy, and I had to pay for the transport of a crate containing her possessions, that was being shipped by boat. I was maxed out on my line of credit! That meant no honeymoon, no expensive ring, no expensive party. And all of that was OK with Trudy. We were married the Low Budget Way in the home of Rev. Franklin. He, and his sweet wife made it as pleasant as they could. My brother Ben and his wife Ina were our witnesses. Ben and Ina were married just recently in Holland at the time that I was there. Friends gave us a wonderful reception and after the last well-wisher had left we were finally ready to start our life together.

Actually, when people asked where we went for our honeymoon, we had to say we stayed at home. Trudy was already "away" from her routine life you might say, everything was new to her. We talked a lot. She related the stories of how she was verbally abused by her step mother, and how she had to cope with a difficult life in Holland. We recognized that God had resolved most of our problems, and He would continue to do so.

So, rather suddenly we found ourselves married. What did we actually know about each other? There were a lot of things we had to get used to. For instance when Trudy wanted to take a piece of fruit, or cookie she needed no permission from me, as was the case at home. Everything is different now. Yes, we took a chance marrying on short notice, but in view of how things had come together, we just knew that we could face the future with confidence.

My story 16.3

Another day, another army exercise. This time we arose early in the morning, and we were to drive "colon", led by the brass in the jeep, sporting a green flag. Followed by say about 15 trucks, and at the end the "Brik", a tow truck with the red flag. The word "Brik" was obviously derived from the word "Break-down". Driving in such a way was never faster then 55KM/hr. Slow and boring! That has of course its consequences, drivers falling asleep at the wheel, and looking for snacks and drinks, and the other consequences of eating and drinking as you can well imagine.

We arrived at our destination, a wooded area with lots of bush. We stopped and wondered why took so long before we could get out. It turned out that a group of Gypsies were camping in our field! The lieutenant and his subordinates were negotiating with the Gypsies for the sharing of the area. They must have succeeded, and we set camp about 100 meters away.

We had a lot of gear with us, that was in a backpack, as well as ammunition bags hanging on your belt and holding on to the old rifle. I honestly could not walk more then half a mile with all that weight. I mumbled "I hope we do not have to fight the Gypsies like this, we could never win". Part of your gear was a rain coat that also could serve as half a tent. So, you guessed it, everybody had to find a partner and set up a tent-for-two. In case of war you bunk well away from your vehicle so that you would be safe in case the truck comes under fire. But I was not too crazy about spending the night inches away from this "partner".

The next thing was to move the truck about a hundred feet away and camouflage it. We did, and I had a plan. When nobody was looking I took my straw mattress out of the tent and put in the truck. When everybody woke up the next morning, surrounded by puddles and mud I was dry and well rested. Oh, one more thing, I got heck from one sergeant, and his yelling woke up another sergeant. Still in his pyjamas, he stuck his head out of the back of another truck where he had spent the night. We all laughed. That is the army for you.
(I took this picture, so I am not in it.)

My Story 19.1

Hey, Winnipeggers, some of you may remember this:

In 1957 not many people had a television. And the television did not have many channels. CBC, of course with an English channel (2) and a French channel (3). None of us spoke French. Our Dutch solution for the French problem? Well, instead of making the country bi-lingual, send all those Frenchmen back to school for free lessons in English. That would save money and open up enormous international business opportunities for them as well.

A new station was about to come on the air in Winnipeg. They announced themselves with this cute jingle:

"This is the new TV station

it's gonna be the finest in the nation,

Just wait and see,

and you will all agree

when you're watching, watching channel seven".

They started broadcasting as CJAY. Later that became CKY. If you don't remember this, maybe you will remember the cute weather girl Sylvia Kuzyk. She is still there.

Enough reasons for me to buy my first TV. It was a 14 inch GE with a sturdy metal case. During that time I had made friends with a number of Dutch families in the city. We would get together every Saturday and we had a great time. And now I started to bring my portable TV, so we could watch Hockey and Wrestling, as well as some other less interesting programs. All in Black-and-white. I did this for a number of years, until gradually, everybody had purchased their own TV.

The "rabbit ears" were replaced by rooftop antennas, mainly so you could get cannel 12, KCND, broadcasting from the US side of the border near Pembina. They later moved to Winnipeg as CKND.

I also made several camping trips with the same Dutch friends, when I was still single. I preferred to sleep in my Buick. I had taken the backseat out, which revealed an opening to the trunk. I sawed out a supporting post, levelled the surface the best I could and put a mattress in. I slept OK with my feet in the trunk. Later on when Trudy and I were married we went on several trips with the Buick sleeping that way.

Memories 24

Truus and I entered into a prolific correspondence, expressing our love towards each other, and also to get the paperwork done for her emigration. If we were engaged, and committed to marriage within 30 days we would speed up the process. And going the Immigration way we would also qualify for financial assistance.

Truus" diary of those days include the following entries:

* I mentioned in my letter to Theo that I would like to buy a ring. I think it sounds better when I can say, “I am going to my fiancee instead of my boyfriend.” It just sounds more concrete.

* Next Sunday (Feb.7, 1960) Theo and I have set the date for our engagement. After church I am going over to his parents and at around one o’clock his father will put the ring (that I bought) on my finger At the same time Theo will put his ring on in Canada except there will be seven hours difference in time.

* Mother Decock had said to me: “I don’t doubt for one second that you will a be good wife for Theo.” That is very comforting for me to hear. So I asked father Decock to place the ring on my finger and he was just tickled pink!

Moving to April 20, 1960 I found myself waiting at Stephenson Field, the pathetic little airport in the city of Winnipeg. The airport has expanded since then, and is expanding again in 2009. Truus had landed. Coming from Holland where everything was in full bloom by now, I felt I should apologize for the bare trees, the half melted piles of black and grey snow still decorating our streets. But she had not even noticed.

The next days were dedicated to resting up, and getting to know each other better. A friend had offered that Truus could stay with them, until the day of the wedding. Most days she spent also some time in my apartment as evidenced by subtle changes: Furniture was moved, and a tablecloth appeared out of nowhere. And not to forget, there was a real meal in the kitchen, ready to be served.

My Story 23

Truus continues:

11:50 PM (Friday)

* I just got in. My hands are dead stiff from the cold.Theo walked me all the way home, me on my high heels even! I am not even tired and was not even thinking about it. But it was cold and nippy.It was such nice and “gezellig” evening. Theo told me a few things about Canada. I honestly could see myself going there, really! But I will talk about that later. I will also write about what Theo and I talked about. Later that Sunday I we went to Theo's parents house When he had introduced me to his mother, he also added “She has it very difficult at home”. I guess he knew his mother would show her unbiased love and interest in me. Such a sweet and loving woman, we hit it off right there and then.

* Theo had told me that he thought he loved me. But he said: “Because I am here on vacation seeing everybody makes it for me an very “exciting dream come true" time. Me meeting you is therefore also very exciting and unrealistic. I sure want this to be for real. I want to think this over a good deal and write you a couple of times, let's say three times. In the third letter I want to ask you to become my wife!” Whoa, I did not expect that, but then again, what the heck! Let's be honest, I was totally swept of my feet by this guy, I looked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Yep that was all!

* Then in the evening the entire clan about twelve came to the train station to see Theo off. I think he probably would have liked it better had I been the only one. So here we were at the station everybody making fun and I was nearly dying on the inside. Theo was looking at me all the time never kept his eyes off me. Then finally he got on the train and as he was standing there I thought,"When I see him again it will have to be in Canada, and, am I prepared for that?"

When the train began to move I (Theo writing now), had a weird sinking sensation. Was this real, or a dream, and was the train taking me back to reality? I, too, had to think this whole thing through.

My Story 22

Truus in the meantime had been in a very uncomfortable position. She was almost 20 years old and ready to leave the nest. The nest was dominated by the step-mother bird who showed little sympahty for the children of her new spouse. The situation was more like a pressure cooker then a nest. Truus needed some one to talk to, and she did discuss her situation with her sister Co.

That talk with my dad prepared me for a new direction, would God help Truus also? As far as we can tell about the same time Dad talked to me, Truus was talking to her sister Co, about "praying for a husband". Here are some of Truus' diary entries:

Truus writes:

* For me to talk with someone about boyfriends and husbands, felt good. Co is so much older than me, 15 years as a matter of fact.When it was time for me to go back Co said: “Truus we have been talking about boys, you don’t need an other boyfriend, you need a husband and that is what we, you and I, are going to pray for".

Dec 30, 1959, 1:45 PM

* YES !!, Would you believe I met somebody I never talked about in my diary? He is actually a youth friend of Bertha and Kees. His name is Theo de Cock. He left Holland about three years ago to live in Canada. He came to Holland for the Christmas Season for about 14 days.

This was actually quite strange. I heard the doorbell go twice and by that I knew somebody came to visit the people upstairs.(I lived upstairs, but worked for a business downstairs) . But for some reason I thought:"Who might that be?" and I felt compelled to go and have a look. Our eyes met. The first thing he said was: “What ben jij mooi geworden!” “Have you ever become beautiful!” I could not help but thinking this guy has stolen my heart, he is IT! Why I thought that I don’t know, my heart just flipped on the inside. He told me that he would be in church next Sunday to meet everybody else.

Sunday January 3, 1960

* After church we, Bertha, Bouwe (my sister and her husband) and Theo and I, were talking. He was continually staring at me and said several times,"She sure has become beautiful!" I am just so nervous. He is such a nice guy I am so sorry that he is going away again. In church, while everybody was standing around him Bertha asked: “Theo would you like to come to our place an evening this week, may be Friday?” He answered: “I am rather busy!” Then Bertha said: “Truus might be coming as well if she is not busy.” Then he checked his little notebook, in which I guess he kept all his appointments and said: “Yes I guess I could swing that.” So that means I’ll be seeing him for sure. Good for Bertha that she asked him! I had told her how much I liked him and she had suggested to me that she would try to invite him over.

....to be continued.

My story 21

Late 1959 I was in Holland, and I had a scratch pad full of people I wanted to see. After my dad and I had this "prophetic" conversation, I continued with my schedule. And this day I had written down to visit 59 Jansstraat. In earlier days I had lots of fun with my brother Henk. Often we would go out together for an evening of "Ritselen", a home made word meaning clean fun in whatever form you can find it.

Most of the time we would end up at 59 Jansstraat, where Bertha lived. Lies (Lisa), her best friend at the time, was there often as well.

I wondered who still lived there at this address now. I rang the bell, two rings , which indicated that I was calling on the people upstairs. Downstairs was a wholesale business, that would have been one ring. Upstairs I met a lady who introduced herself as Mrs. Brussee. That made me think for a minute. What happened in fact, the Mrs. Brussee I knew had passed away and Mr. Brussee was remarried. I introduced my self as an old friend of the kids, and I wondering if anybody still lived there. Kees had moved out, Bertha had moved out, but, she said: "Truus still lives here. Oh, there she is now!"

I turned around and instantly I knew I had stepped into the rest of my life. What my dad had prophesied came to pass. Everything inside of me calmed down, and I suppose we stared briefly at each other, before I found the right words to say:"Wow! Have you ever become beautiful .....!!"

I HAD to meet her again. How in the world would I add that to my scratch pad. I had to cancel somebody. We got a little help from Truus' sister Bertha, when she invited me to come to her place on Friday. First I said no, because I wanted to meet with Truus instead. Then she said "Truus is coming too"." In that case my answer is yes". That evening I was supposed to visit Mrs W. and I went to the nearest phone to cancel. When Mrs. W. started calling me names I just knew I had made the right decision. I don't need any more of this!

The following Sunday was my last day in Holland. Truus and I spent most of the day together. In the evening I would board a train, as planned, and start on my trip back to Canada, via London. I had promised Truus I would write her three letters. In the third letter I would ask her to be my wife. When I said that, she had jumped up and planted a kiss on my cheek, the first kiss, if you need to know!

In London I wrote the first letter. Upon arrival in Winnipeg I wrote the second, and when I woke up the next morning I wrote the third.

My Story 18.1

This post is a little different. Here I will talk about some of the reasons I ended up leaving Holland.

Let me begin in 1949, high school. I was not very good in some subjects, especially German. I refused to study that and revive memories of the war. But, on the other hand it was a required subject in the MULO. I sat in the back of the class and the girl in front of me, Hennie, frequently helped me with that subject. On the other hand , she was next to clueless in algebra and geometry, in which I excelled! We developed a nice relationship. One day Hennie's best friend, Corrie, invited me to go out as a foursome. We were all into sport and Freddie, Corrie, Hennie and I had many wonderful outings together.

Soon Hennie and I were dating, and spending much time together. It feels great when such a pretty, popular girl accepts you and thinks you are wonderful. I thought she was great too, and I respected her. We eventually graduated together, and we continued our relationship after school was finished and we both had jobs. After about eighteen months, we both felt that it was getting boring. On my 19 th birthday I was expecting her to drop by, but she never showed up. I went to her house, and we talked for about two hours, talking and laughing about the nice times we had together. We mutually decided not to see each other for two weeks.

After two weeks I was back looking for her, but to my surprise she said NO. I cannot tell you how that hurt me. I know that I was not ready for a serious commitment, I had been rather selfish at times. But I never knew that this rejection could hurt that much. Many times after that I got on my bike and rode the streets where we had biked together. Many times I just let go and cried, nobody watching. Many times it was softly raining; God crying with me. At that time I first heard the song :"Blue eyes crying in the rain". That was me. Since we broke up on my birthday I decided that I would not celebrate my birthday again until I had a new Love! For years after that, I always made a dentist appointment on my birthday!

Later my buddy "Ome Jan" called me a "sentimentele ouwe gek" (sentimental old fool) Loneliness followed. The long evenings in the army did not help either. Even to this date it is just stamped on my subconscious," nothing is worse than being alone". When Trudy visits the grand children out of town, that is still my first re-action.

I could not stand seeing the places again where Hennie and I were together. I had to get out of this Hennie Territory. That was one of the main factors that made me think about emigration. Another factor, by the way, was a lack of housing. Friends who married had to move into the attic of their parents place. As for Hennie, and this is almost 60 years ago now, and I must admit there is still a bit of residual love for her tucked away in a secret corner of my heart." I wonder if she thinks of me each time I think of her......"

Strange, is it not, that God can still use stuff like that to mold your future.

My Story 20

After a few years enjoying my independence, I began to feel lonely. I felt I was ready to get married. But the girls I knew in Canada did not appeal to me. You know, when you are lonely you begin to lower your standards, as natural urges ask for recognition. That I did not want. I had to ask God for direction. I knelt down by my green easy chair and said: "God if you don't give me a nice wholesome wife, I will not be responsible for the consequences." I believe that God hears the intent of the heart rather that the beauty of the language, which in my case was a little coarse, I realize that. Within days things began to happen.

A Dutch friend encouraged me to go and visit my family in Holland, especially, because one of my brothers was getting married around Christmas time. The Bank of Nova Scotia was the first to offer loans for the purpose of travel. And that is where I did my banking. They were extremely helpful. Soon I found myself aboard that noisy "Super Connie" crossing the Atlantic. The trip took 22 hours. I felt very strongly I had to talk to my dad and see if he would have anything to say, if he would be able to give me some counsel. Whatever! The next story is 100% true, it still amazes me.

The living room was full of people. You know how that goes. Time for shallow talk and laughter. And there I was, hoping for a serious discussion. "God", I whispered under my breath, "This is not going to work!" Immediately dad turned around and asked me point blank:" Son, how is the girlfriend situation there in Canada?" Amazingly, this is what I wanted to talk about. My answer was: "The way I want them they don't make them anymore...!" " Not to worry" he replied, "you will meet the right one and you will immediately know that this is your wife, there will not be any doubt." Boy , that felt good! The assurance, the positiveness of his voice. I managed to say: "How can you be so sure?" Dad said: "That is how it happened to me, and that is how it will be for you." I come from a Pentecostal background, but I had never heard a prophesy like that! Positive, direct, clear, and accompanied by an enormous peace. That is how you do that! Ever notice that in a single moment you can learn a whole bunch of things? I did.

I had to get some "polite" visits out of the way in the next few days, and then start on the "old buddy" visits. Then the amazing story continued. What Dad had prophesied, and I use that word on purpose, happened. The next entries will cover some of the amazing details.

My Story 19

After lumbering across the Atlantic, the Super Constellation landed in Montreal. I took a taxi to the train station, my first major expense. At the train station I went looking for somebody that I could explain my intentions to with my English, and the little French I spoke. Try this sometime, go to a station in an other country and try to get a train ticket for a two day trip for one dollar. Well, it took a while , but I finally settled in one of the coaches. I had no idea how far it was to Winnipeg, and how long it would take, and most important how expensive it was to eat on a train.

Finally , the end of my journey. I was in beautiful Winnipeg late at night, at the CPR station on the corner of Main and Higgins. I would be met there by my pen pal Jeanne and her parents. But nobody was there. Slightly frustrated you might say, I sat on top of my enormous suitcase while the station emptied. Soon I was the only one there. I said a quick prayer. Then a man walked up to me and asked the right question: "are you an immigrant?' I told him I was and that my contact had not shown up. He walked me over to the Immigration Building which was in those days right next to the CPR station. There they gave me a place to sleep in a large room, on a bunk bed which looked so similar to the army bunk beds, that I felt at home instantly.

The next morning I got a hold of Mrs. Young, Jeanne's mom. Her husband had already gone to work, so she did not have a car to pick me up. I volunteered to take a bus at Main and Higgins. Those who know Winnipeg will agree that this is not the most picturesque part of town. Nothing like the pamphlets they showed me in Holland. A collection of cheap movie theatres, beer parlours, old hotels, and Pawn Shops. I asked the bus driver to put me off at the right street, but I still had to walk a few blocks with my oversize suitcase. Anyway, I made it. Mrs. Young was a tiny, sweet lady who took delight in feeding me cookies. Jeanne was a pleasant looking girl who was, get this, engaged! She must have forgotten to tell me. No wonder she felt a little awkward. Her sister Louise was not half as pretty, but ten times more approachable. Nice christian people, but I had other things on my mind.

I had a job soon, and immediately moved out to a rented room, twenty two dollars per month. One of the people at my new job was Rose. She wore lots of make-up, very red lipstick and sported her over sized front to the delight of the male staff. All day long she made sexual innuendos, and the guys giggled. One day she got too personal. I just had enough and walked out. I never went back there.

A few weeks later I got a respectable job within walking distance. I worked there over four years. Weekends would be boring and I could not wait for Mondays to come so I could go back to work. I loved it. I felt a sense of accomplishment and independence.

My Story 18

In 1954, later in the year I saw an ad promoting a meeting on emigration to Canada.

In high school we learned German, French and English. German, due to the occupation of the Germans in the war, put a bad taste in my mouth. French seemed uninteresting to me at the time. But English! I loved it. I had pen pals those days in England, South Africa and Canada. I loved the American movies, which, with subtitles in Dutch helped me a great deal in learning the language. And I read English language pocket books.

I attended the emigration workshop, (emigration is leaving a country, immigration is getting into a country), and I left my name and address. That is all I did. They kept on contacting me and instructing me step by step. Medical test, interviews, visas and passports. I did everything faithfully and I did not tell anybody what I was up to.

Nobody knew. I did not want anybody to force their opinion on me. I did not want to discuss it until all papers were in order, and I could tell positively what was going to happen. This is MY project.

Finally, I was directed to go to The Hague, to the Canadian embassy, to have my passport stamped. They told me to be on a plane, or boat within 30 days. And I could choose any City in Canada for destination. My pen pal was in Winnipeg, so that was a no-brainer. It had taken over a year. I was delayed because of a souvenir from Hitler, a little spot on my lung. After many tests is appeared there was no danger, so I was "good to go". And now it is time to tell everybody.

So I told everybody. Suddenly I had all these friends , and family, that loved me so much, they did not want me to go away! Not much support for what I had planned and organized. A few weeks before I left I received a notice from the army to report for "Repeat exercises" (Herhalings oefeningen). I sent them a telegram that I was going to be in Canada by then. They promptly sent me a telegram back that I was excused. I left that telegram with mother, because I suspected that, knowing the army, they would send the MP's looking for me. And that is exactly what happened. The MP's came to the door, and my mom showed the telegram, and that is the last I heard from the army. I still feel they owe me big for the two years loss of freedom, and lost earnings they cheated me out of!

In August 1956 I landed in Canada to start my new life. From rainy, depressing Holland to sunny Canada. In Holland I was often painfully reminded of the "lost Love" with my first girlfriend, and Canada seemed so open and promising. Within a couple of weeks I had a suntan. In those days we thought: "Suntan is Good!!" Come to think of it, cigarettes were good too, they turned BAD in 1964.