After a week of the hypnotic clacking of metal on rails and the soothing hum of muted conversations from other passengers, the conductor suddenly bellowed “Vancouver…next stop.” The two-week travel from the Netherlands to Halifax, Nova Scotia by ship and then the beautiful train ride from Halifax across Canada was ending.
Less than a month earlier, Johannes and Riet quietly and solemnly said, “Ik doe,” in their hushed Catholic church of their little village, Anna Paulowna, near the North Sea. The monotonous drone of the priest lulled several guests to nod their heads, with spouses poking elbows into their sides to prevent snoring. Everyone, however, sat upright as the couple said their vows, kissed and turned to the adoring crowd of family and friends. Cheers, clapping, and “hoorays” and “hip hip” followed the couple as they walked down the aisle.
They both grew up in this close community in families who farmed the rich dirt. Riet’s family of 16 and Johannes’ family of 10 had several mutual friends within each clan who often went to each other’s homes to share boisterous meals. The village was in the middle of a flat polder. A bike ride, the main mode of transportation, meant fighting against the howling, incessant wind, so strong that rows of wind break trees were bent over the landscape. The muted noise of workers, cows and work horses were ever-present. In Anna Paulowna, you might hear one of the few cars or trucks in the area, but more likely the melodic ringing heralding an approaching bike, or the clopping of horse hooves from a wagon delivering goods to town.
Yet despite this serenity and close-knit community, Johannes and Riet decided to take the government’s post-war offer to send young adults to Canada, Australia or the United States. Less citizens at home secured jobs for those that remained. As middle children of large families, Johannes and Riet wanted to avoid the prospect of working for an older brother, who would undoubtedly inherit the family farm and become “boss” upon his father’s death.
Riet and Johannes wanted a different life. And the Dutch leaders provided that opportunity. In a blur of excitement and anticipation, they concurrently planned their wedding, secured passports, packed their suitcases and purchased the voyage tickets to Halifax. From there, they intended to travel by train to Vancouver, BC to begin their life together. That was the plan.
A month later, with no job, home nor plans of any kind, they weren’t too sure of that decision. They jostled with other impatient travelers to step off the train into the Vancouver station to face the overwhelming clamor of screeching trains, foreign voices calling to each other, announcements of incoming and outgoing trains, children crying, and police whistles. Their dazed and bewildered eyes spotted a man with a handwritten sign, “WELKOM CONIJN’S!” Johannes and Riet heard the familiar greeting, “hallo vrienden!” Enormously relieved, they timidly approached the man. With a strong grip familiar to Dutch farmers, he shook Johannes’ hand, introduced himself as Wilhelm and explained that he was there to help them settle in town.
They had no idea who Wilhelm was, how he knew them, nor why he was helping them. Yet they also had no idea what they were going to do next in this city and he was from home. He described an apartment nearby that they could stay in and they followed him blindly.
The walk was short, but intense. A large red firetruck startled them as it careened down the street near the sidewalk, siren screaming. Throngs of people knocked into each other, speaking words they did not understand. A jackhammer rata-tat-tatted as it bore a hole into cement, surrounded by grunting men doing repairs on the road. A streetcar drove by, ringing its bell as it prepared to stop just ahead of them.
They stopped at an apartment building and followed Wilhelm up three floors to a studio apartment. As Johannes reached for his wallet, Wilhelm assured them that no money was necessary for this company apartment. He gave them his business card and said goodbye, promising to return before lunch the next day. Riet and Johannes could think of only one thing as he closed the door.
The Murphy bed reluctantly creaked as they pulled it down. Then, silence, as they collapsed. Johannes and Riet woke up hours later, famished. They left their belongings stuffed in the four suitcases and descended the three floors of cracked stairs to the lobby. The dim lighting of the stairway was replaced by blinding sunlight as they opened the ornate hotel door. They were in Vancouver!
They clasped their hands and ventured out. Excited, in love, naïve and ready to explore.
Riet had traveled to the USA months ago to see her brother in Mount Vernon, WA. Johannes had been to Berlin, Germany during his army service. They had both traveled out of the quiet, farming community of their childhood. Yet nothing prepared them for this. A huge billboard changed from a red-haired lady, large letters below spelling “I love Lucy!”… to another “Piggly Wiggly” with grocery bags… then “Ramada Inn” with a picture of a hotel room…then back to the red-haired lady. Amazing! People of all backgrounds and clothing bustled busily on the crowded streets. They passed a farmer’s market with colorful plump vegetables and fruit. Red phone booths every few blocks. Cars of all colors…bright, yellow taxis, trucks with bright letters advertising their businesses. The buildings were SO tall. Signs in restaurant windows enticed people in with “Pork Chops for 75 cents!” or “2 egg omelet for 50 cents!”
Every glimpse between the buildings showed beautiful snowcapped mountains and blue skies. There would be much to explore. Yet, evening was setting in. They needed to eat.
Riet saw a store across the street that looked promising. The police officer held up his right gloved hand and motioned to them to cross the street with his left. With less than $50 each in their pockets, they knew they would have to be careful with their money. They bought their usual low budget food, peanut butter and bread with a few treats, and left the store to go “home.”
They simultaneously realized that neither knew the address nor even the name of the apartment building! What direction did they come from? What did they pass? Where was the farmer’s market? The Lucy billboard? The noisy construction crew? How could they have been so stupid?
Riet noticed John’s hands shaking and sweat starting to collect on his brow. He asked her if they had ANYTHING that could identify Wilhelm’s last name or the name of the apartment building. He searched his pockets and Riet emptied her purse on the nearby bench. There! A small card with the name, Wilhelm DeBoer. The numbers below his name must surely be a phone number. They hurried to the nearest red telephone booth across the street.
Epilogue: Wilhelm drove back from his home in Burnaby to help them back to the apartment. At that point, he explained that he was an insurance salesman who got the names of Dutch immigrants from the posted ship rosters. He helped the travelers at arrival with the hope for a later purchase of life insurance through him. He helped Mom and Dad get their first jobs as housekeeper and farm help, find and rent their first house, and meet other Dutch immigrants in the area. They gladly purchased life insurance from him later, once settled and earning money!
Author: Lucinda Hauser
Johannes and Maria (John and Riet)
Vancouver, BC. (c.1956)
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