Going into hiding but still functioning more or less normally for the outside world, how do you do that? Good question. In any case, never stay at one address for too long. At some point, neighbours will become curious and if, for example, the children do not go to school, it will raise questions.
Intermezzo 2
After the initial period in Appelscha, first in a farmhouse along the canal, then for a few months in a kind of summer cottage or caravan, we moved to another place. Our destination was Eerbeek, a detached villa belonging to a widow on the edge of the forest.
In the early spring of 1941, we then moved to Apeldoorn, to a detached house on Badlaan. We stayed there for a few months until we left for a house in Epse (villa Zomerlust?) or Elslo.
In the middle of the summer, we moved to Deventer. A detached house on Schoutenweg, close to Ceintuurbaan. We stayed there for quite a long time, certainly until after the harsh winter of 41-42.
In the spring of 1942, we moved to a large detached villa in Barchem, where we stayed until the middle of the summer before returning to Deventer.
At the end of 1942, just before Christmas, our stay in Deventer came to an end and we returned to Eerbeek.
I am not entirely sure of the order and it is quite possible that I have forgotten a few addresses. But that does not matter much for the story. In any case, a large part of it is in Gelderland.
The origins of the Jansens
I don’t know whether the choice of Gelderland as a place to go into hiding was coincidental, but the Jansen branch of the family originally comes from this region. It was my grandfather, BerendJan Jansen, who took the big step of moving to Amsterdam.
How I know this is almost a story in itself, but I think it’s too nice not to tell here.
I am in possession of a Jansen family tree that dates back to around 1750. I came across it more or less by chance over ten years ago when my brother-in-law was approached by Anton Vedders, a distant relative who was researching the Jansen family tree.
Anton lived in Arnhem and had obtained my brother-in-law’s address through a second cousin. He asked him to send him the family details of our branch. Why the Jansens, you might ask, since he has a completely different surname? The answer is simple: his mother was a Jansen from another branch and, because he didn’t like to do things by halves, he had researched the entire family tree (which took him about ten years).
When my brother-in-law noticed that I was interested, he handed this task over to me with a visible sense of relief. In this way, I came into possession of a piece of family history very easily.
Family tree
In 2004, Anton Vedders even created a website of his family tree that you can view on the internet. Mick, my eldest son, found this so interesting that he has also been researching the origins of my mother and Lia’s parents ever since. Step by step, , the tree is growing, and every now and then he calls me enthusiastically because he has discovered another distant relative.
Vedders has managed to trace our ancestry back to the wedding date of Willem Jans(en), a young man who came from Twello. In 1766, he married Derkjen Lamberts Stegeman, a young woman from Hul near Epe.
Although eight children were born from the marriage, the male line was only continued through Hendrik, born in 1779 in Epe. The other male members died young, except for one who took the name Willigenhof when the Civil Registry was introduced around 1812. This was also done by a daughter. Hendrik, who retained the family name Jansen, practised the honourable profession of day labourer and married Gerritje Paalman in 1806 in the town of Gorssel. The reason why he did not take the name Wilgenhof (or Willigenhof) is unknown. However, I think there was a practical reason why he did not register with that name in 1812. He died in 1811, at a young age, so he had few children. His daughter Jenneken, born in 1811, only lived to be one year old. Hendrik was already sick in bed when she was born, so the midwife registered the birth. His mother, Gerritje Jansen Paalman, apparently did not think it necessary to adopt the name Willigenhof in 1812. Perhaps she did not have time or forgot, so the municipal secretary simply entered Jansen.
Curiously enough, she later remarried, again to a Jansen who was not related. Son Willem, born in 1806, reached the ripe old age of 78.
Willem, who worked as a farmhand, married Osina Meeuwenberg in Diepenveen in 1835. I wonder what a farmhand is. Would it be a construction worker or a farmer? He also seems to have been a clog maker.
Be that as it may, he and Osina had six children.
BerendJan, born in 1849, was important to our branch of the family. He was my grandfather, who died before I was born. Grandfather married Johanna Jacoba Naves.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a photo of him, but I do have one of his brother Derk, a warlike little man.
Brothers and sisters
My grandfather’s brothers were engaged in honourable professions such as miller, baker and farmer. My grandfather himself was a carpenter and moved to Amsterdam in 1882, where he started a small carpentry business.
And then there was my grandmother. Where did she come from? That is a bit unclear. Grandmother was the illegitimate daughter of Johanna Jacoba Schwarze. Her real father is said to have been a German textile manufacturer, who had other plans that probably did not include Johanna. She therefore later married Hendrik Jan Naves, who generously recognised the little girl as his daughter.
Grandfather BerendJan was a man who did not like to sit still, and together with grandmother Johanna Jacoba, he raised nine children, five sons and four daughters. Grandmother also had a restless nature, which manifested itself in a lack of stability. Almost every year, the family moved to a different home, living in places such as Buitenbrouwerstraat, Haarlemmerstraat, Roomolenstraat, Oldenbarneveltstraat, Heerenstraat, Haarlemmer Houttuinen, Spuistraat, Prinsengracht, Nieuwendijk, N.Z. Voorburgwal, Fagelstraat, Wittenstraat, Orteliussteeg, Lindenstraat and Prinsenstraat.
My father’s eldest brother, Wilhelm, was 22 years older. He was also a carpenter. Among other things, he worked in South Africa for a number of years. He died in 1906 as a result of a fall from a scaffolding.
After Wilhelm came Johanna Osina in 1880, who died in 1923 as a result of kidney disease. Johanna married Johan Willem Grote in 1909, who would later play a prominent role in the NSB. He died in 1958.
Osina Maria was born at the end of 1881. She also did not live to a ripe old age and died of cancer in 1926.
Catharine Jacoba (Aunt Koosje), born in 1883, is the first in the list whom I knew. She married Willem Haages in 1911, from whom she later divorced. I saw her two children, Ellie and Wim, several times at our home after the war.
Berend Jan, Uncle Jan, was born in 1885. He took over his father’s business together with his brother Gerrit. Uncle Jan was married to Geertruida Kok. After her death (she committed suicide), he married Hiltje Mantel, who died in 1948. There were three children in this branch of the family, two sons from his first marriage and a daughter from his second. One of the sons was killed in action on the Eastern Front while serving in the German army.
As I already mentioned, my grandfather and grandmother had nine children. Gerrit Hendrik was born in 1889. He did not live long and died shortly before his second birthday.
The next child, Maria, born in 1890, only lived to be two months old.
At the end of 1892, another Gerrit Hendrik was born, who married Sentina Geertruida Prent in 1920. Uncle Gerrit passed away in 1984. Their son Gerrit Hendrik (Gé) married Alida Cornelia Bloem. They had two sons, one of whom is the well-known actor Tom Jansen.
Finally, my father, Louis, was the youngest of the children (actually a latecomer) and was born on 28 March 1900. Unlike his brothers, who, like their father, were carpenters, he was destined to learn a trade.
Incidentally, Grandfather left the family in that same year, 1900, apparently finding it all a bit too much. According to tradition, he enjoyed a drink, a trait he shared with a number of other members of the family, and died in 1914. One story has it that he died of a heart attack. Another says that he choked to death above the toilet while vomiting in a drunken stupor.
Aunt Naatje, as Grandma was called, was left alone.
As far as the family’s drinking habits are concerned, I have heard my mother say that all the Jansens were drunkards. But she liked to exaggerate. In our circle, my eldest brother never wanted to know anything about it. And the rest of us have a drink now and then, just like most Dutch people.
Grandmother did not survive Grandfather for long. In 1920, she also breathed her last breath.
The photo above, showing Grandma, my father, my uncle Gerrit and my uncle Jan, dates from around 1910.
Incidentally, Grandfather’s brothers and sisters remained loyal to the Veluwe. The family prospered and a few even gained national fame as bakers and millers. They had many children, some of whom emigrated to Canada and Australia.
I will tell you more about what happened to my father in Chapter 6, My Father’s Century.
My mother’s origins
Unlike my father, we knew very little about my mother. Just a few general things, such as that she came from Friesland and that her father had a boat. A small cargo ship, which they used to sail the canals in the three northern provinces.
So, as a first introduction, here are a few photos. A blurry photo from 1933 in which I pose as a baby. The second photo dates from 1942 and was taken in Apeldoorn.
Femke, my mother, was the youngest daughter of Sybrandt Bakker, owner of a cargo ship, who was married to Greetje Schotanus. The family had eight children.
The origins of that family have been researched by my eldest son and go back to Hartman Luitjens Bakker, born in 1757.
Hartman was married to Grietje Hartmans. After their fourth child, Grietje passed away, and he subsequently married Ymke Herres, who bore him six children.
Following the line, we come to Jacob Hartmans Bakker, who was born on 28 November 1797. He married Jacoba Franzes Trinks. Jacob died on 21 October 1854.
We continue with Johannes Jacobs Bakker, born on 24 December 1824. Johannes was a merchant baker. He was married to Sjoukje Sybrands Dijkstra, born on 19 September 1826. Johannes died on 7 April 1900.
On 29 July 1861, their son Sybrandt Bakker was born in Sloten. He married Grietje Fimmes Schotanus on 20 May 1888. This brings us to the family into which my mother was born.
It was a fruitful marriage, but that was common at the time. They eventually had eight children.
Sjoukje on 8 June 1889 in Sloten
Fimme on 23 July 1891 in Oldentrijne
Johannes on 22 February 1893 in …. He died on 13 May 1893 in Smilde
Johannes on 28 May 1894 in Groningen
Ritske on 15 November 1890 in Groningen
Jacob on 12 August 1898 in Oude Pekela. He died on 16 May 1905
Fimke on 12 July 1901 in Sloten
Fogeltje on 1 August 1904 in Sloten She died on 12 September 1924, found lifeless in the water
Life aboard a cargo ship
Did the whole family live on the ship? And did that ship have a name? We are still searching for the name, which is probably to be found in a special ship register in Leeuwarden. A similar ship belonging to other family members was called Hoop op Welvaart (Hope for Prosperity).
Although they were registered with the civil registry in Sloten, we have not been able to find out whether they owned a house there. It was probably their postal address.
In the early 1900s, eight people lived on board a small cargo ship. I have tried to imagine what that must have been like. They must have been deprived of everything that resembled comfort . No electricity, no gas, no water. At best, a few paraffin heaters, if they even existed at the time.
There must have been no entertainment for the children. Perhaps from time to time, when there was no cargo, they moored near a village or town. The same during periods of frost when the canals were frozen. I do not consider it impossible that one or more children sometimes spent a few months or longer with their grandparents or an uncle and aunt.
Did the children go to school? I do not know. Perhaps now and then when they were moored somewhere. At that time, there were already skippers’ schools where the child was placed with family or acquaintances. In the skippers’ boarding schools, the pupils lived in the boarding school. Be that as it may, my mother had at least learned to read and write. She had problems with writing.
What would she have looked like as a child? There are no photographs of her from the first twenty years of her life. I don’t think any were ever taken. There was no time for that. The family certainly didn’t have a camera. I have to use my imagination to picture what she looked like. I think she was a feisty young lady with curly blonde hair. The work she later had to do on board made her a sturdy girl.
I also think she was attractive to boys and later men. And vain enough not to distance herself from that.
At some point in her life, she started calling herself Fenny.
One thing became clear later on: she was not the type to go through life alone.
Femke did not have a particularly pleasant childhood. Her father’s cargo ship had no engine, which meant that she was called upon to do daily chores from a very young age. She once told me that at the age of nine or ten, she had to help pull the boat when there was no wind. Laboriously walking in a pulling harness, together with her father and brother, on the towpath along the many canals in Friesland, Groningen and Drenthe. For her twelfth birthday, she was given a leather vest so that the tow rope would cut into her shoulders less.
It was a life that consisted of work. Except on Sundays. The family was baptised in the Dutch Reformed Church and attended church on that day. Sometimes twice, I read somewhere.
Away from the family
Around the age of sixteen, she must have had enough of life on the boat with her parents. It is also possible that her parents felt it was time for her to find a job on shore. In any case, she left the ship in 1917 and became a maid for a family in Sneek. A story she sometimes told. However, we have not been able to find her in the registers of that place.
My son did find her in the servants’ register in Leeuwarden on 24 April 1917. She worked as a maid for Jacob Marten Bakker and Hendrikje Postma in A.Jacobstraat.
When this family left for Heerlen on 20 December 1918, she probably went to Groningen to work for A. Foekers and her sister Sjoukje.
We have not been able to find out how long she stayed there. She once told me that when she was around sixteen or seventeen, she sailed for a while on the ship of her brother-in-law Albert Foekens and Sjoukje Bakker. It was a motorised ship that transported fishmeal. She did not really enjoy her ‘ ‘. Fish meal gives off a foul, sickly smell that gets into your clothes and eventually into your skin.
Ultimately, we are missing about four years of her life story. It is possible that during that period she worked for a number of years in a hotel in Leeuwarden or Groningen.
At some point, she must have gone to Amsterdam. The story she told the family was that at the age of twenty, she came to the conclusion that life as a maid did not match her dreams. Together with a friend, she said goodbye to Friesland and cycled to Amsterdam, where happiness awaited her. We now know that this is an unlikely story. She had become pregnant around July 1921.
By whom? Good question. Perhaps by the son of a family she worked for. In any case, the consent of both partners was lacking for a marriage. With or without the help of her father and mother, she left Friesland.
To Amsterdam
- She was given an address by someone in Amsterdam and took the train to the capital on 6 February 1922.
The address where she found accommodation was at Spuistraat 172 174, the building of the NV de Kasvereniging, where H. Klinkenberg was the caretaker. He was married to Anns Ferwerda, who was from Friesland. - On 15 March, a son was born: Fimme Bakker.
- Fimke had to look for other accommodation and found it in Huize Annette in 3e Wittenburgerdwarsstraat, a home for unmarried mothers and neglected infants. She only stayed there for a short time, leaving Fimme in Huize Annette and finding accommodation with the Visser family at Ruysdaelkade 161-2 on 16 March 1922. It is likely that she knew Daniel Hendrik Visser and his wife Baukje Bakker (family).
- Huize Annette was relocated to Alberdinck Thijmstraat on 30 July 1923. Fimme remained at Huize Annette.
- On 18 December 1922, Fimke moved in with the Barnes family at 90 Lomanstraat in Amsterdam.
- Mozes Barnes was born on 26 June 1891. His father was David Barnes, who was married to Rachel Snijders. They were a Jewish family.
- On 25 May 1920, Mozes married Maria Hillegonda Schreinhout. The couple initially lived with the parents-in-law until they moved to Lomanstraat 90 on 26 May 1922. Femke came to live with this family on 18 December 1922, as a maid, I assume.
- During her stay in Lomanstraat, she became pregnant for the second time. Again, the question arose as to who the father was. The Jansen family later claimed that Mozes Barnes was the father. A second possibility mentioned was Philip Barnes, Mozes’ brother.
In any case, Fimke left Lomanstraat, whether voluntarily or not, and on 30 July 1923 she moved to Hoofdweg 30 to live with the Pot family. - On 28 January 1924, Johanna was born at the OLVG hospital. She was a girl who did not resemble Fimke or the other children in the Jansen family. Based on the colour of her hair and eyes, it seemed logical to assume that she was of half-Jewish descent.
- Fimke and Johanna moved on 26 February 1924 to a home for the homeless at 35 2e Constantijn Huygensstraat.
- I assume that she met my father during that time. After his mother’s death on 27 April 1920, he had moved to Bussum and initially lived in a rented room at Voormeulenlaan 107. Later, from 1 October 1920, he lived at Landstraat 7.
- From 31 January 1924 to 8 February, he lived for a short period in lodgings on NZ.Voorburgwal. In the population register, he is listed for that period under the postal address NZ Voorburgwal 18. Until 13 June 1924, he was then registered at Vlietlaan 70 in Bussum.
- Had he really met Fimke in Amsterdam? In any case, they continued to see each other. On 8 April 1924, she left for Bussum, where she found a room at Voormeulenweg 115. It is unclear how she managed this with Fimme and Johanna. I assume she left them temporarily at Huize Annette.
- On 27 June 1924, she left for Vlietlaan 70, together with Johanna. On the same date, Lou Jansen moved in with her at that address. Little Fimme was taken from Amsterdam on 21 October 1924 and reunited with his mother.
- On 12 February 1925, Fimke left for Amsterdam with the children. Her new address was 128-2 Van Spilbergenstraat.
- On 19 March 1925, Louis Jansen joined Fimke and the children at Van Spilbergenstraat.
- On 17 June 1925, Louis Jansen and Fimke Bakker were married in Sloterdijk. I do not know whether there was a modest celebration in the Jansen family.
- A few months later, on 6 August 1925, Frederik was born.
- On 21 October 1925, Fimme Bakker passed away. I discovered this when I delved into the family records at the City Archives while writing this chapter. To my surprise, my brother and sisters knew nothing about the existence of this little brother. My mother had already passed away, so I couldn’t ask her about it, but she had always kept this a secret from the other children.
- A few years later, on 2 May 1927, the family moved to Orteliusstraat 189.
- Another child was born. This time it was Sonja, on 30 August 1927.
- On 30 March 1928, they moved to Jan van Galenstraat 307/1.
- I found a special note in the City Archives about my eldest sister. Johanna was married to Louis Jansen on 18 December 1928. She thus officially became a member of the Jansen family.
- The family continued to live on Jan van Galenstraat for almost five years.
- Louis Jansen quickly rose through the ranks of the CPH, of which he had become a member. We do not know whether this meant he was away from home a lot, but at the end of 1932, Fimke began a relationship with another man. If my eldest brother’s story is correct (he told it to his wife before he died), it was a well-known member of the CPH who visited Fimke in Jan van Galenstraat in the evenings.
- The consequences were inevitable. She became pregnant. On 5 August 1933, a son, Rudolf, was born. As a result, the living space became too cramped and on 12 October 1933, they moved to Mercatorstraat 155/2. Family lore has it that Louis Jansen moved elsewhere for a period of time as a result of his wife’s infidelity. Possibly with friends on Westlandgracht or in Betondorp. Eventually, he returned to Mercatorstraat. Rudolf was registered as his son at the Registry Office.
- From his farewell letters, we know that the couple had subsequently reconciled. To seal the deal, a son was born on 20 July 1936. He was named after his father, Louis.
And then the war began
The war brought this story to an end in 1940. Louis Jansen joined the resistance against the Germans and went into hiding with his family. First in Appelscha, then in other places. His arrest by the SD in Eerbeek on 6 April 1943 brought this to an end.
My mother and Fred were detained for over a month and a half in the House of Detention in Amsterdam. Aunt Mieke – villa Calluna Alba – was probably also detained for a similar period before she was allowed to return to her home in Eerbeek. My sisters escaped arrest because they had gone into hiding at an address in Velp. The two youngest children were placed in a children’s home in Eerbeek.
In the City Archives, we found police files showing that on 17 May, Fimke had reported to the Admiraal de Ruyterweg police station that the ration cards with inserts for herself and the children had been lost during the period in hiding. The reason for this seems obvious to me. She needed a statement from the police in order to apply for new papers and ration cards.
After her release, she sought out Louis’s brothers and asked for help. In the population register, I saw that she was registered with Uncle Jan on Hoofdweg from 31 May to 31 August. I do not believe this information is correct. I think she had contacted Aunt Mieke from Amsterdam and had gone to Eerbeek after a few weeks.
In any case, she did not want to return to Mercatorstraat and started looking in the Rivierenbuurt, where many houses were available for rent because the original Jewish residents had been deported. We eventually found a flat at Scheldestraat 101/1, which we moved into on 31 August.
With the hunger winter approaching, two difficult years lay ahead. She made a number of trips by bicycle to Hoorn to exchange valuables for food. During one of those trips, she was photographed by the photographer Emmy Andriesse. After the war, it became a famous photograph that was used in various books as an example of the hunger trips.
Other gentlemen
Fimke was not the type to stay alone for long, as I wrote at the beginning of this story. After my father’s execution on 9 October 1943, a divorced man joined the family in mid-1944. Mr Reden initially lived in the attic room but moved downstairs after a few months. He had a job as a textile sales representative at the Wijers company on Nieuwe Zijds Voorburgwal. I remember him as a small man who hardly interfered in family affairs. A few months after the liberation, he left, returning to his wife and two children from whom he was divorced.
Various relationships followed. Most of them were short-lived. Some of the gentlemen were nice, others less so.
Frank, an American engineer on the high seas, visited at irregular intervals. He always brought a large package with all sorts of things.
At one point, a chemist who could make soap came to visit. Soap was a scarce commodity after the war, and I remember that he and Fred started making small pieces of fragrant soap.
I almost forgot the sales representative who often had to go to Brussels. He was one of the first to have a Reynolds Flyer ballpoint pen. Next time I’ll bring one for you, he promised me when he came by again. Unfortunately, love faded and with it the chance of a Flyer.
Uncle Joop was the last applicant from September 1952 onwards. Fimke had met him at the market in Albert Cuypstraat. Originally a market trader, he and his brother Piet had started a chimney sweeping and fireplace cleaning business.
On Dam Square, sometime between 1945 and 1950
The Eighties
Fimke left Scheldestraat on 30 November 1980. The construction of the new RAI in early 1960, followed by the hospitality industry in the years that followed, caused too much commotion in the street. The pastry shop below her home had been replaced by a Chinese-Indonesian restaurant, with the accompanying smells of cooking all day long. A ground floor flat at Volkerakstraat 25 became the new home for her and Joop. All the children had left Scheldestraat years earlier.
Incidentally, she had done well financially during those last 15 years in Scheldestraat because she rented rooms to people who set up exhibitions at the RAI. For a number of years, she had regular guests at Easter. A couple from Germany who let Femke pamper them for a long weekend.
The house on Volkerakstraat was owned by a private individual who lived on the second floor himself. Necessary maintenance was paid for by the tenant. Joop had died in 1986 and heating the coal stove (lugging around bags of anthracite) did not make living there any more pleasant. At Fred’s suggestion, she was persuaded to move to a newly built flat with central heating at Borssenburgplein 51 in early 1988. It was not a success. She couldn’t stand the constant noise of rowdy Turkish boys playing football under her window – on the first floor – and after a few years she moved to a sheltered accommodation in the S F van Ossstraat in Amsterdam.
The last years
During the last five years of her life, her physical health declined. She also became less mentally alert. She developed early-stage dementia, characterised mainly by forgetfulness.
Femke was a heavy smoker. In the evenings, she usually sat in front of the television, although I doubt she saw much of it. She was treated for one of her eyes at the Slotervaart Hospital.
She often fell asleep in the evening. If she was smoking a cigarette at the time, it would fall, still lit, onto her clothes or onto the floor.
I remember once accompanying her because she wanted to buy some clothes: a skirt and a cardigan. A few weeks after she bought that cardigan, we visited her. There was already a burn hole in it. The floor covering around her chair was also full of cigarette burn holes. In hindsight, it’s a miracle that there was never a fire in Van Ossstraat.There are a few more things to say about her forgetfulness. She agreed to visit us but had made an appointment with one of the other children on the same date. One of my sisters called to ask if my mother was at home.
At one point, Fred took care of her finances, making sure she had enough cash for her daily expenses. She would then hide that money somewhere because she was afraid it would be stolen. Her favourite hiding place was a pile of sheets in the linen cupboard. The annoying thing was that she would then forget where she had hidden it.
Fred would then receive a call asking him to bring some money because she had run out.
When she moved from Scheldestraat to Volkerakstraat, I paid one last visit to the house with Uncle Joop after the move to see if anything had been left behind. In the bedroom, I found a worn hundred guilder note under the tarpaulin. It seemed wise to check the other rooms as well. And surprise, surprise, in the living room we found nine thousand guilder notes under the carpet.
After her death, we also found four or five thousand guilders in her handbag.
Another interesting topic was her fantastic stories about the neighbours or things she had experienced in the past. In SFvanOssstraat, she claimed for a while that an Indonesian woman lived below her who was always cooking at night for her daughter’s restaurant. Every evening she heard the clatter of pans and other kitchen utensils, and the whole house smelled of Indonesian food. However, when we visited her for an hour in the evening, we heard nothing. Incidentally, there was always a musty cooking smell in the corridors of those sheltered housing units. Usually of cauliflower.
Another story was that she had once been visiting family and came home late at night. She had forgotten her key and slept in the porch all night. Didn’t anyone come by, Mum? No, and there was no one at the reception of the adjacent retirement home to ask. It wasn’t until the next morning that someone from the kitchen staff arrived.
During my military service in Kampen, she unexpectedly came to visit the barracks one evening. That evening, we were celebrating the departure of a number of people who would not be going on a four-week exercise in Germany. She was probably worried that something would happen to me in Germany and had impulsively taken the train to Zwolle, changing in Kampen. No, she hadn’t eaten anything, so I took her to a restaurant first. Then I explained what we were going to do in Germany and that there would be no shooting. Did she want to stay in a hotel? No, she didn’t want to, she just took the train back. To prevent her from getting lost, I took her to the station.
Are you taking good care of yourself in Germany, lad? After I had reassured her once more, she boarded the train at nine o’clock. How old was she then? Fifty-four or fifty-five.
Stories about Mum. I could easily tell you a whole series of them.
That she often favoured my sister Jos and me. According to the other members of the family.
About her impulsive behaviour
She bought shoes and clothes at the market that turned out to be too small when she got home.
She took rings to the pawn shop and later forgot to redeem them.
Admitted to the OLVG hospital with a head injury after she went missing on Borssenburgplein
The loan to her ‘friend’ Willie, her daughter and son-in-law, which was never repaid.
Perhaps I will turn it into a separate story one day.
Died
Fimke passed away on 16 November 1997.
Fred died on 16 September 2003
Johanna passed away on 19 July 2012
Sonja passed away on 7 February 2008
Louis (Loek) passed away on 1 January 2020