54. Opa Piet

For quite some time now I’ve been wanting to explore my family history in more depth than I’ve so far managed to achieve. I was reminded of this recently when some old friends from Sydney came to spend a day with us and one of the topics which we discussed was the value of family histories. However, while this discussion did reignite my desire to learn as much as I can about the lives of my ancestors, it also focussed my mind on one ancestor, who has long held a special place in my heart and whose life I’ve always been particularly interested in. This is my paternal grandfather, Pieter van der Kwaak, after whom I was named and whose life story I would like to recount here.

My grandfather, who was known to his grandchildren as “Opa”, was born 145 years ago (in 1879), in the village of Rijnsburg, in The Netherlands. I’ve mentioned this village previously (in post 42, “Different Times”) and some interesting facts about it are that Claude Monet, the French impressionist, painted the picturesque landscape which surrounded it, and also that it is the village which, in the 17^th century, became known for its religious tolerance. The world-famous philosopher Spinoza lived there in 1661.

Opa’s ancestors in Rijnsburg can be traced back to the 16^th century, which is a long time ago. At that time, Australia had not yet been “discovered” by Europeans. The first Dutch ship arrived in 1602 and the first English ship arrived 168 years later, in the 18^th century.

While I don’t know this with certainty, I would guess that Opa came from a relatively poor farming background. Sadly, I have no information at all about his early years. At some stage he moved to Leiderdorp, the village where I was born. He and my “Oma”, Gerritje Hendrika Walen, who was born in Amsterdam, were married in 1905, when he was 26 years old and Oma 27. I would have loved to know how they met but that will probably forever remain a mystery. They had two children, Dirk (my uncle Dick) and Marcus Leonardus (Max), my father.

Opa grew up in the period immediately before the First World War, known as the “Belle Époque” (the beautiful time), which lasted for about forty years. This period is described in Wikipedia as a time “characterized by optimism, regional peace, economic prosperity, colonial expansion, and technological, scientific and cultural innovations”.

During the Belle Époque people began to dress differently. Men, young and old, started to wear bowler hats and to use walking sticks. Women began to get dressed in more fashionable clothes and children no longer wore “grown-up” clothes. Those who could afford it began to travel and to enjoy short holidays. However, for most people, Opa included, life was still hard and many continued to suffer from hunger and disease during this period.

I think that it was probably soon after his arrival in Leiderdorp that Opa started his life-long employment working for the village doctor and later, for the doctor’s son, after he had taken over his father’s practice. He first worked as a young coachman, and in later years, as a driver.  Information about this is available in a book titled “Dokter Adriaan…De lotgevallen van een merkwaardig geneesheer”, (the life-story of a well-known and well-loved physician).

This book includes a long, amusing story featuring Opa, the doctor’s horse-drawn coach and Govert, the horse. On a very hot day (in Opa’s words) “Govert swam right across the Rijn (Rhine) with the coach behind his back..….it was quite a spectacle – how that animal could swim…..incredible……did you know that? He reached the other side in no time…”

The book also includes the following passage:

“……What the “old” doctor, who never reached the age of 60, and later his son G.A. junior owed to this clever, small in stature, plucky ex-coachman, not only as a driver, pharmacy assistant and lion tamer (in the waiting room), but especially as human being, as friend and partner, is not easy to put in words….”

In 1919, Dr Adriaan became the owner of a T-Ford. It was delivered from Amsterdam and possibly was the first car owned by someone in the village. The delivery driver was also the instructor, who was there to teach Opa how to drive. It apparently took a week. I understand that at that time only a few people in The Netherlands owned a car, and that cars were usually driven by an employed driver (chauffeur). It was not until after the Second World War that more people were able to afford a car. Opa never owned one and neither did my father. They both used bicycles instead.

We lived in the main street of our village, which ran parallel to the river, the “Oude Rijn” (Old Rhine). Our house was a two-storey duplex building with front and back gardens. Opa and Oma lived in one part, and we lived in the other. The council chambers were virtually next door to us and the post office was on the opposite side, next to the doctor’s surgery. My younger sister Liesbeth recorded in a short family biography which she wrote, titled “Het Huis aan de Hoofdstraat” (The House on the Main Street) how she and Margriet (her twin sister) had always been fascinated watching the patients walk in and out of the surgery. Often people formed a queue on the footpath outside because the waiting room inside was full. No wonder the doctors needed a “lion tamer” (see earlier quote).

We were in contact with our grandparents almost every day. Each Sunday, after church, we all had coffee together in our front loungeroom. Opa and my father would then occasionally smoke a cigar and have a small glass of jenever (Dutch gin) together before lunch.

In her book, Liesbeth referred to Opa as her hero. She admired him and totally accepted everything that he told her. He was president of the “Oranjevereniging” (Orange Society) and a member of the church council. He was also the collector of church donations. During the services he would walk along the aisles with a small velvet bag attached to a long pole to collect these donations. I remember that well. He also volunteered at funerals. When he was dressed in his black coat with golden buttons and his black high hat, Liesbeth knew that that meant that there would be a funeral. 

During the years when I knew him, Opa’s main place of work was the apotheek (pharmacy) of the local doctors, opposite us in our street. The pharmacy was furnished with many shelves containing bottles with liquids, tablets, powders and other concoctions. Opa would make up the prescriptions by mixing the various liquids and powders together (we had sometimes helped him fold the powders). He was dressed in a short, striped pharmacist’s coat and really looked the part. He never had the benefit of a formal education but he knew all the labels in Latin and he seemed to know exactly what was required. We thought he was very clever.

There is so much more that I could write about my grandfather. He supported us and helped to keep us alive during the terrible war years. He was, as Liesbeth wrote, “in our eyes, a very calm, serious and wise man.” She and I remember him sitting in his favourite chair, near the window, smoking a pipe and watching the world go by. We all loved Opa!

Opa died in January 1960, the same month in which I arrived in Sydney by ship, to settle permanently in Australia. He was 81 years old. Oma died one month later, aged 82.

O.P.

P.S. In the next post, on Sunday 15 September, we will look at “The Bright Side of Life”.