1953 was the year of the Big Flood (Watersnoodramp) when a massive storm (one in a hundred years – they said) blew in from Iceland, swooped over Scotland and across the North Sea, broke through the dikes of Zeeland, south Zuid-Holland and Noord Brabant provinces on January 31st, claiming the lives of 1,800 Dutch people, many in their sleep and caused the drowning of cattle, other animals and the destruction of farms and towns to the tune of 1 billion guilders; it was the year I completed Grade 6 at the ‘School with the Bible’ and was chosen to recite the rhymed 93rd Genevan Psalm at a parent/teachers event: ‘The LORD is King, enrobed with Majesty, He girds himself with strength and equity, therefore the world established by His hand, cannot be moved, but shall forever stand. The mighty floods have lifted, have lifted up their voice, the waves that roar and in their voice rejoice, but mighty though the thundering floods may be, more glorious than the surging of the sea; is He in majesty on high, forevermore his name we glorify!’ it was also the year of the crowning of Queen Elizabeth II of England on June 2nd; it was the year of the death of the Communist Russian leader Joseph Stalin on March 5th, who forced industrialization, famine-causing purges, killing according to estimates between 10 and 20 million of his own people; then also on April 25th we read a report in the science journal NATURE about the discovery of the double helix, the twisted-ladder structure of deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) by James Watson and Francis Crick; the year, the Korean War ends (July 27th) into an armistice; the Salk vaccine discovery that will save many from the Polio disease is made public; it was the time Nikita Khrushchev becomes President of the Soviet Union, starting the ‘Cold War’ scares of the 50s and 60s. Nineteen fifty-three was the summer I graduated and started Highschool (MULO) and our family was about to move to the far other side of the world: Canada. My parents said good-by to family and friends. My dad told them: ‘We will most likely never see you again!’
________________________________________________________________________
The weather was warm for that November day as we approached the harbour of Quebec City 70 years ago. The people on the Dutch ship ‘Grote Beer’ were eagerly looking out on the city and its buildings along the St. Lawrence River each with their own thoughts about this land that they had decided to settle in. There was hope for a good future but some were disappointed with the old look of the buildings they saw and remembered what they had left behind.
Having packed our suitcases the day before, we were all eager to disembark. After nine days of ocean travel all the while experiencing a heavy Atlantic storm, causing much sea-sickness among the passengers, the immigrants looked forward to setting foot on solid land. The next day the landing cards were stamped and the families were allow to transfer to the arrival shed where there were some people who welcomed us in Dutch and we waited to be assigned a location on the Canadian Pacific train parked next to the building. My mother as usual would notice on entering on board that the seats were dusty and the compartment looked old. As the weather had warmed many of us took off our coats and stored our luggage overhead and waited. No one seemed to know when the train would leave, all we knew was that we were headed to Montreal and Toronto.
After waiting for sometime, the people were starting to get hungry and so leaving the train, crossed the tracks to a small store they had spotted and bought bread, margarine and drinks. The bread wrapped in paper, was white and spongy and the margarine was pure white and tasted very salty, very unusual, as the bread they were used to was much more solid and margarine in Holland was yellow.
Towards the end of the afternoon the train started to move and we settled down for the journey which lasted all night, till we finally arrived at Toronto. My aunt Gine and uncle Henry Oosterveld (my Mom’s brother – whose family had immigrated two years earlier) together with my cousin Reina met us with their car at Union station. The weather was cloudy, damp, with spots of fog at 6 degrees Celsius. We loaded up the car. (a 1950 Ford I believe) Three in front and all of us (five – my parents, two sisters and I) in the back with our luggage in the trunk, a very heavy load.
We proceeded up Yonge Street (my Uncle was amazed how long this street was) and turning onto Highway 7 heading to Guelph, travelling through Brampton, Georgetown, Acton, Rockwood and then turning left onto Wellington County Road 29 towards Eden Mills. Past the one room school house (on the right) that I would attend in the next few days towards the first driveway on the left. A two track lane-way lined by trees on each side, ended at a barn with a farmers house on the left and a smaller two story house on the right where we would spend acclimatizing to the Canadian environment during the next two months as guests of my Aunt & Uncle. We had arrived in Canada!
We were ready to claim the words in the Bible book – Numbers, chapter 14 verse 8 where we read the words of Joshua and Caleb: “If the Lord is pleased with us, he will lead us into that land, a land flowing with milk and honey…….. “ (Tr. NIV)
JS November 18, 2023
On the Road 