My Opa Reijer Hulstein. Some time ago, during our weekly Sunday evening telephone calls, my son, Rob, interrupted the conversation with, ”Just a minute, Dad, someone wants to say ‘hello’” and I heard a little voice say, ”Hi, Opa, it's me”Those words from my 9 year old grand daughter not only warmed my heart, but at that moment something else happened. I had a “flashback”. Did I hear my own voice? Did I hear myself saying those words to my own grandfather more than 70 years ago?Yes, another “flashback”. In my life I have had many of those moments where my thoughts have led me to Opa Hulstein. You see, my grandfather, Reijer Hulstein, was a special man. Although he died November 15th,1940 when I was only 11 years old, this man had talked to me, guided me, admonished me, warned me and encouraged me and has often enabled me to ask myself, “What would Opa say if he knew what I’m thinking?”, or “What would he say if he knew what I was up to?”, or “How would Opa Hulstein react to the path I’m traveling today?”Such has been the influence of my grandfather for me in the very early years of my life. Opa Hulstein was born in Eerbeek, Holland, on April 18th, 1869. He was the youngest of the 7 children of Reijer and Hendrika Hulstein, nee Ter Hoeven.I know very little about his youth, his 4 sisters and one brother except one very important aspect - he was born into a very devout Christian family who worshipped at the Hervormde (Reformed) Church in Eerbeek. His father's occupation was paper maker and he worked at the Schut's Paper Company, which is still in existence today. My grandfather may have worked there as a nker, a daughter of Gerrit and Johanna Jonker. In the year 1910 Opa Hulstein opened his own furniture store in Apeldoorn. The store and the above living quaters can still be seen there today. Of the 4 sons born to my grandparents, the 3 oldest all worked in this store as upholsterers, and all 3, including my dad, eventually started their own furniture stores in Apeldoorn. One of those is still in existence today.My earliest memory of visiting my grandparents was when I was about 3 years old. It was a Sunday and we were invited for dinner. I remember very clearly what we were served that day - meat, potatoes and green cut beans. From then on whenever we had green cut beans at home they would never taste like Oma's beans!! Hers were the best - because she put sugar on them!!Our grandparents lived in a very old, two story home. Built of gray bricks, it hashutters and window frames that were painted a very dark color, which made it look even older. Their home had several rooms, some of which were packed with all kinds of furniture, possibly leftovers from Opa's furniture store which was now being run by 3 of his sons. There were desks, tables, and beautiful arm chairs. One piece of furniture, a reading desk, had a very large and old ‘Staten Bible’ on it. Its cover was of woven damask and the hinges and lock were of highly polished copper. This room was just used as a storage room and seldom entered, so I always loved to open that door, peek inside, and inhale the musty air. It also smelled of mothballs to preserve the woolen materials of the chairs and small carpets that were also stored there. I loved Oma's living room. It always felt so cozy. It had all kinds of old and mismatched furniture!! An old wooden table sat at the window allowing one to sit there and look over the beautiful garden, which was tended to by both Opa and Oma, and out into the street. I spent many, many special moments at that living room table.As my grandparents lived between my school and our home, once or twice a week I would just drop in to see Oma, and to be treated to ‘Oma's Special’. This consisted of one Dutch Rusk, (Beschuit) with a little milk poured over it (butter was too expensive), and then covered with a little sugar. While I was munching this treat, Oma would ask me all kinds of questions, such as, “How was school?”, and “How are things at home?”, and always ended the questioning with, “Are you behaving as you should?” She would sometimes reach out to me and straighten the collar of my shirt, tell me to button up my sleeve or simply take her finger and put my hair back into place “because it ought to be that way”. Of course, it never occurred to me then that I would marry a woman with the same inclination!! But I always loved Oma Hulstein dearly. Many, many years later, on our regular visits to Holland, we would meet up with our cousins and reminisce about the old days. I was surprised to learn that most of them had different experiences and different thoughts about Oma Hulstein than I had. They thought that she was always very stern, seldom smiled, and was always very eager to correct them, whether this was in the area of language, in their behavior and, as I just mentioned earlier, she was always ready to tell them to “Button up your shirt”, “Walk straight”, or ”Look at your shoes - go and clean them!!” They all were, as youngsters, a little afraid of Oma Hulstein, and somewhat surprised to hear about my love and experiences with her in my younger days. I do, however, understand their reservations, as their descriptionof Oma is not unjustified. But there may be some bias in my thoughts about Oma and there may be a good reason that there was a special bond between us. I was made aware of this ‘special bond’ years later. A few days after my birth, which was April 16th, 1929, our mother became seriously ill. Most children were born at home, as I was, and when mother became ill, she was taken to the hospital and remained there for about 3 months. I was then taken in by Oma Hulstein. She looked after me, fed me, washed me, changed my diapers and loved me until my mother returned home. Off course, I was not much aware of all of this in those days, but I do think that this resulted in a special bond between Oma Hulstein and me.But to be fair to those that were somewhat scared of Oma Hulstein, I must relate the following story told to me by our own father. Our father had just met a beautiful young lady and wanted to introduce this 20 year old maiden to his mother. Apparently he had not chosen a good day to do that. Oma had a bad day - nothing went right and everything went wrong. Then her son, Henk, came walking in the door ready to show off his new girl friend, and introduce Geesje Ijzerman to his mother. Seeing her son with this girl she blurted out, “Just when you think you’ve had all the bad things happen already, this comes walking in!!!” This was, then, the introduction of my mother to her future mother-in-law. But I must also say that I never heard my mother say anything but positive things about Oma Hulstein and the two always got along together. Talking about Oma first will also give a better picture and a better understanding of Opa Hulstein. Opa and Oma worshipped in the Netherlands Hervormde (Reformed) Church where Opa was an elder. In the Reformed Church, if someone is chosen as an elder, he remains an elder for life. (That is, unless a serious objection is brought forward and confirmed. Then this elder will be removed.) Besides being an elder, Opa Hulstein was also a lay preacher and was licensed to preach and hold worship services. He did not preach in a large church to a large congregation but choose to preach in the highways and the byways. Twice a month you could find him preaching in a little chapel called ‘Licht en Leven’, translated as ‘Light and Life.’ This Chapel was in the poorest area of Apeldoorn, an area called and known as ‘Het Roode Dorp’ or ‘The Red Village’. It was so named because all the homes in that area had the same roofing - bright red tiles. In this area lived the poorest people, the unemployed and the destitute. It was here that Opa Hulstein preached twice a month, it was here that he consoled the grieving ones, it was here that he gave Hope to those that felt downtrodden and it was here that he visited the lonely ones, and it was also here that he used his wisdom and love for many youngsters who had a falling out with their parents and it was here that he used his God-given talent to sit down and listen to the concern of parents. And it was here, not in a large, monumental church, that he not only passed on the Spiritual food, but also, when there was need, he would come with food to help those that were hungry. To illustrate Opa’s generosity, the following story was told by our father. One day when Dad dropped in on his mother’s home, he found her in quite an agitated state. She was searching through her cupboards and the pantry looking for things that were there before, but somehow had mysteriously disappeared. “I can only find a few potatoes, and there is only quart of milk here when there were 2 quarts yesterday. All my white bread is gone and I am left with only 2 brown loaves! And there are only 6 eggs left of the dozen I bought last week!!” Oma stood there for a minute thinking hard, and then said, ”Oh, wait a minute, it is Tuesday today, is it not? That man of mine is gone to visit his sheep and raided my pantry again!!” Oma should not have been that surprised, since this was certainly not the first time she missed some groceries and tins of food and other items which Opa had taken for the needy. But Opa's rebuff to Oma's complains was very simple - “These people are hungry and the Lord has blessed us with so much. When we share with those in need the Lord will give us more tomorrow!” Although Oma would grumble about things taken from her ‘domain', deep in her heart she supported Opa in all his love and concern for others. Opa would have made a terrific Christian Counselor. It certainly does not surprise me that Opa was so often asked for his advice in all kinds of situations by the people he cared for, whether it was a family dispute, marriage problems or parents having a difficult time with their children. I know by personal experience how good that man could be!!! As youngsters, of course, we did not always behave - as some of our neighbors in our area would have told you. Some days, we would just roam through the neighborhood with a whole bunch of friends and simply make a nuisance of ourselves. Some of our minor offences were climbing over the neighbor’s fence and helping ourselves to some delicious apples; ringing the door bell and running away; or lettting the tire air out of someone’s bike that was parked on the street. One day we went to the local butcher and bought several soup bones for 10 cents. We tied them to a long rope and walked around the block a few times and soon had a host of dogs following us. We then went to the home of the two Daniels sisters, tied the rope to their front door, and rang the bell. We could hear the sisters screaming as the dogs walked through the open door into their hallway. If someone complained about our pranks, I considered myself fortunate if the complaint was lodged with my Dad. It would result in a good old fashioned spanking. But I would be in real big trouble if the complaint was brought to Opa Hulstein. I would rather face the local Police!!!. Opa had such a nice way of confronting you with your misdeeds, such a gentle way of explaining your wrong behavior, such a “ pastoral” way of bringing the Lord into this and then such a kindly way of making you go to those you had offended and offer your sincere (?) apologies. On one of my many visits to Holland, I walked through this old neighborhood found that the house of the Daniels ladies is still there, the two sisters long gone, but the day of Opa's reprimand and the resulting apology is still with me, even when it occurred more than 65 years later!! Such was my Opa, Reijer Hulstein. Opa's love and concern for all people, including the poor and needy, saved me one day from being roughed up by several bullies. Dad had asked me to run an errand for him to one of his customers. This errand would lead me right through the area of Red Village. Pedaling my bike, I was accosted by three rough looking characters, dragged off my bike, and pushed into the berm of the road. One of them was trying to take my jacket off while the other two were ready to take off with my bike. Just then an older person came by, saw what was happening, and started yelling, “Leave that boy alone!! He is the grandson of Mr. Hulstein, the Preacher!!” Immediately I was helped up, the bike was handed back to me, and was even offered an apology, albeit ever so reluctantly. I was saved by the love and care of Opa Hulstein, the “preacher”, for the people of the Red Village.If my memory is correct, a similar incident happened to my brother Henk. Opa Hulstein had one well known ritual, and that was visiting his sons at a set and regular time. His visit to us was usually on Wednesday mornings between 10:00 and 10.30. He always biked and today I am still able to describe this bike in detail. It must have been about the oldest contraption in town. It had the weirdest handle bars and a very odd shaped saddle. It was very large - maybe so that it would fit his rather large behind. Today I still can't understand nor describe the light on this bike. But the glass of this bike light had hinges and a button. When you pushed the button, the glass opened like a door and inside was a holder which held some sort of a candle. Open the glass door, light the candle, close the door and you are all set to peddle this bike at night!!!! Also, protruding out on the left side of the rear wheel was a steel bar. Opa was not able to mount his bike in the usual way, so he would stand behind his bike and while he had both hands on the handle bars, he would put his left foot on the steel bar at the rear wheel, set himself in motion with his right leg and than heave himself over the back wheel and rear bike rack, and into the saddle. I used to love watching him taking off on that contraption. His always somewhat oversized black coat would flap in the wind. When biking, Opa always wore a felt cap. He had beautiful, curly gray hair and it would always curl around the back of his felt cap as if to hold the cap in place and to stop it from blowing off. Wednesdays was half a day of school for us and sometimes if we hurried home, Opa would still be there and we would be able to talk to him. But he usually did all the talking by asking us all kind of questions about ourselves, about school, our friends, and when he was leaving, he would simply put a hand on our shoulders, gave a little squeeze and say, ”Dag, mijn jonge”, which means, “Goodbye, my boy”. Then, off course, I would walk him to the street just to see him take off on his bike. On November 15, 1940, Opa Hulstein made his regular weekly visit to our home. Together with my parents and a neighbor who had dropped in, Opa was sitting around the kitchen table having coffee and conversation. Around 11 o'clock that morning, Opa quietly said, ”I’m not feeling too well at the moment. Could I just lay down on the couch in the living room?”, and as he was escorted to the living room it became very obvious that he was not well at all. Dad phoned our doctor who, after observing Opa's condition, informed my parents that it would be wise to call the rest of the family together as Opa had had a very severe stroke and the end could very well be near. When I came home about lunchtime I saw several bicycles parked against the wall of our home and when I passed the living room and looked through the window, I saw my parents, my Oma, uncles and aunts, all standing around the living room couch. As I entered the kitchen Dad came to meet me and told me that Opa was very seriously ill, unlikely to live much longer and if I wished to see him yet, to join them in the living room. Our living room was crowded with uncles and aunts, all standing in front of Opa who was lying on the sofa, while Oma sat on a chair beside him. The attending doctor looked at the relatives and quietly shook his head. To me it looked like Opa was asleep and I don't think that I realized that Opa's life here on earth was nearly ended. I have forgotten how long I stood there watching him, when some time later his eyelids started to flutter and he opened his eyes. With obvious effort, he slightly lifted his arm and with his fore finger he pointed upwards. For a moment I thought he looked straight at me and I saw a smile appear on his face. Then his arm dropped down, and at that moment, Opa Reijer Hulstein left us behind while he went to be with his Lord and Savior whom he had served so faithfully. As I am writing this, the words, “Well done, you true and faithful servant” come to my mind now, but as an 11 ½ year old boy, I could not find those words, nor any other words of comfort. Knowing that Opa was gone for good was bad enough, but I also had to watch Oma sitting there, grieving, comforted by her sons and daughter-in-law. A beloved husband, a loving father and a great Opa was gone. There may have been rejoicing in Heaven, but not that day in our living room, nor in my heart. A man whom I truly loved, admired and who had taught me much in my young life, and a man whom I think has been a great influence in my life was gone for ever. In Holland in those early years, and well in to the 1940's, woman usually gave birth to their children at home. And so it was also that the caskets containing the body of the departed were placed in their homes until the day of the burial. The casket was always placed in the front room, often called the ‘pronk kamer’, loosely translated the ‘show room’. Such a room was very seldom used as a living room, but often decorated with fine furniture, carpets, special ornaments and often displayed valuable knick knacks and paintings. Therefore, the name ‘show room’. The casket with Opa Hulstein’s body was then also displayed, during the days before the burial, in the front room of his home. Customary also was that all the blinds and shutters of the home were shut until after the casket and body were removed for burial. And so it was at Korteweg 33 in Apeldoorn, Holland.On the day of the funeral, all the relatives, as well grandchildren up to a certain age, came to Oma's home. The house was dark, everybody wore black clothing, no one smiled, everyone looked very somber, and everybody whispered. I felt scared and extremely uncomfortable. And then came the time for those who wished to do so to have a last look at Opa Hulstein. Almost everyone went to that front room and filed passed the casket for a final “Goodbye”. I stayed in the kitchen and Oma asked me if I wanted to say goodbye to Opa. She must have seen my hesitation and said, ”If you want to, I will come with you.” Noticing that that must have encouraged me, she took me by the hand, we went to the front room and I had my final look at my Opa. Then I witnessed something that forever endeared me to Oma. She bent over the casket, kissed Opa, and I heard her say, ”Dag, mijn lieve jonge”, which translated means, ”Bye, my dear boy”.
I have attended quite a few funerals since then, and as sad as such an occasion may be, I believe that as Christians we have definitely “progressed” as far as funerals are concerned. Not only were all the curtains and shutters closed for several days, but in those days taking the body from the home to the burial ground was the most somber, almost creepy affair, imaginable. The casket was removed from the house by gentlemen dressed completely in black clothing and large black old-fashioned hats. The casket was placed on a 4 wheeled totally black hearse and drawn by 2 horses which were also totally draped with black cloth. The family also rode in horse drawn carriages and I believe there were 4 of them following the hearse. The head of the funeral parlor would walk in front of the horse that pulled the hearse. He would also be totally clad in black and would wear a hat of sorts similar to that worn by Napoleon, but it was pointed forward rather than side ways. He would then lead this procession at a very slow pace all the way to the grave site. I remember looking out of the carriage and seeing people on the sidewalk who would stop walking, remove their hats or caps and reverently bow their heads until this somber procession had passed. Fortunately, the distance from home to the cemetery was not too far. At the burial site there was already a large crowd gathered and during the service I recognized dignitaries such as the Mayor of the City, several well known pastors and members of Opa's church consistory. But what really struck me, and confirmed by my dad later that day, were the many people from the Red Village, where Opa was known as ‘the Preacher’. They also came to pay their respects to a man that had shown God's Love and His Word to them.
The family members formed a semi circle around the grave site as the service began. There were three ministers attending this service. One from Opa's own congregation, one from Classis and the third minister, I believe, was on behalf of the Synod of the Reformed Church. Each preached a short sermon, but for me, an 11 ½ year old who had enough trouble just sitting still and listening in church, this was a bit too long. Right behind the grave site was a black wrought iron fence. Through this fence was a very busy street and I started to count the cars going by while one sermon after another was preached. Watching cars go by on that street - and that particular fence - became very useful more than 60 years later when I was trying to find my grandparents’ grave site again. Although not paying too much attention to the sermons, I do remember that it was said that Opa Hulstein's favorite passages of the Bible were those that spoke of being saved by grace and not of any good works. Near the end of the service, Opa's oldest son, our Oom Reijer, gave a short eulogy and spoke of the love his father had for his wife, his 4 sons, and his grandchildren. He emphasized the life-long work Opa did in the church and his God-given gift of evangelizing and bringing God's Word and His love to so many. As Oom Reijer spoke, I thought about the fact that we gathered here, too, with so many name sakes of Opa Hulstein. Reijer Hulstein was laid to rest; Reijer Hulstein, the oldest son of Opa was speaking while beside me stood Reijer Hulstein, the son of Oom Reijer. Standing with his parents, stood Reijer Hulstein, the son of Oom Gerrit, and the youngest of all the Reijers was Reijer Hulstein, the oldest son of Oom Jo Hulstein. All those Reijers lived closely together in the same town and so it was no wonder that each one of us went through our younger days with nick names - mine was “Broertje” meaning ‘little brother’. When the service ended, it took a while for us to leave because so many people came to Oma and her family to express their condolences, but eventually we returned to our carriages and were driven back to Oma's house, albeit at a much faster pace. Leaving the cemetery, little would we know that we would return soon to this burial place when our Tante Annie, Oom Jo's wife, who died very shortly after this day of sadness, would be laid to rest beside Opa Hulstein. We had Oma with us for another 3 years, and on Dec. 26th, 1943, Oma joined Opa, also to be with her Lord and Saviour. Her body was laid to rest beside Opa and Tante Annie.
A number of years ago, while on a visit to Holland, Mies and I went to the old cemetery. It had been closed for many years as a burial ground and a new and larger cemetery was opened at the outskirts of our town. As we went through the gate, we noticed how old and in many ways unkempt this area had become. The old office was closed and we had no idea as to where to find the grave of Opa, Oma and Tante Annie, so we wandered around looking at the names on the, by now, very old stones. Many of the headstones were leaning over, were dirty and the names were often hard to read. We did recognize a few familiar names of those we used to know in those earlier years, such as a former pastor of our church but everything was so old we started to wonder if we would ever find the site we were looking for. Then I had a flash back!! The day of Opa Hulstein’s funeral, there was a wrought iron fence with a street on the other side, with lots of traffic. Indeed, I found that fence, and walking along it, I found the street with even more traffic now. As we walked on, we came to a site which looked to us like a brand new grave site. Pure white chains around the site and a headstone in shiny black marble and an inscription in clear gold letters told us that here were laid to rest Reijer Hulstein and Reintje Hulstein-Jonker and Annigje Arentdina Hulstein- Klapwijk. Among all of the most dilapidated and unkempt plots was this clean and shiny plot. It was indeed for me an emotional moment. To stand there and think back about all the years that have gone by, all the years I thought so many times about Opa and Oma and now to find this place, where their bodies have been laid to rest, in such marvelous condition. As I stood there and took it all in my eyes caught something that I had missed earlier. Standing back and looking at the very foot of the grave site I noticed an inscription. Although Opa Hulstein died more than 63 years ago, he was still giving me a message. He was still passing on his faith, still warning me, still guiding me, still encouraging me. On that stone at the foot of his grave are 2 simple words “God regeerd”In the language we mostly speak today, it says, “God Reigns”.Thank you, Lord, for Christian grandparents. Thank you, Lord, for this grandfather, a man of Your choosing, a man of Love, Guidance and Compassion. A man by the name of Reijer Hulstein.
Richmond, Feb. 2006
