A Blotchy Sort of Purple

@LindsayRacen

Jake sat on the dock just staring. He blankly studied how his cabin’s lights reflected on the mirrored water and the way they were morphed by the ripples that danced to the beats echoing from the wings of a nearby dragonfly. He was 25 years old, still young by many standards, but he felt double his age already as a divorcee with a seven-year-old girl sleeping inside. 

He glanced up at the window where his daughter’s bed stood just behind the glass and listened closely. He didn’t hear a peep so he took a sip of his beer, laid back on the wood planks, and focused his attention on the sky. He loved the fresh air, silence of the mountains, and the way the sky brought a million diamonds out to play. It’s a sight that no one in the city could ever imagine and one that his ex-wife could never appreciate. The thought of her broke his brief moment of peace and turned it into a mix of irritation and nostalgia.  He remembered the first time he met her… 

“Can I sit here?” Cassy asked. And he just stared. It wasn’t until she already plopped her backpack down on the table, settled down, and opened her English book that he was able to blurt out “uh YEAH… of course!” an octave too high than any guy should use past puberty. And that was it. That was the moment that changed his life forever. It wasn’t when his daughter was born, or even when he found out that Cassy was pregnant, he was already lost by then. Nope, it was that moment in the library, his terribly pitched voice, the ribbon in her hair, that skirt, and the look she gave him as he twirled her hair and said, “Hi! I’m Cassy!” 

She smelled like vanilla dipped in strawberries. He stared at her for a long moment, probably looking like a complete idiot or a fly trap with its mouth wide open then finally forced out the words, “I…I’m Jake.” She smiled. Or was it a laugh? He could see her high cheekbones defining and the corners of her eyes starting to curl upward and he gave her a weak smile back. She was clearly wearing lip gloss, more of a deep red than the strawberry scent, but it also gave off a new smell…cherry maybe? This chick was a fruit basket, and he felt like a basket case! He couldn’t figure out what to do next so he went back to his book. 

After what felt like an hour, Jake found himself staring at the same line of his text he had reread at least 52 times before he realized that he was spending far too much time at the same exact spot on the same exact page he had been on when she got here. It wasn’t even convincing at this point so he turned to the next. Cassy must have noticed because she glanced over with the corner of her eye and tried to hold back a laugh. 

Soon it was the classic game of keep away, but with eye contact not the baseball that his brother and his friends used to throw over his head in the trap of pickle. Back and forth, back and forth, begging to be caught but avoiding same time. He found himself looking at other parts of her than her face and a warm tsunami rushed through his veins. She noticed immediately and asked him the obvious, “are you blushing?” “No” he said, “It’s just hot in here.” Damn. She just called him out. But then it got worse realizing that she was now focusing on him and he turned a blotchy sort of almost purple. 

Jake cringed as he thought about that familiar feeling and it shook him back into reality. He listened for his daughter again, took a sip of his beer, and focused on finding Sagittarius in the sky. Looking back to that fateful moment, as indelible as the ink they signed the papers with, he realized that it represented his entire relationship. She always called him out and made him feel that same blotchy sort of almost purple, but at the time he didn’t mind much, especially knowing that she was clearly out of his league from day one. He always questioned why this picturesque cheerleader that every girl wanted to be, and every dude wanted to bang, was with a guy like him. A flash of irrational jealousy poked at him as he remembered the party they went to the night that they met…

“Jake!!! Come over here!!” Cassy yelled from across the Kappa Alpha frat house. It’s a miracle the “brothers” even let him in, especially since it was crystal clear that he didn’t belong there, although he was getting the feeling that the guys would pretty much do whatever this chick said. The place smelled like a cornucopia of old booze, moldy pizza, and fresh axe spray failing miserably to mask the scent. As he walked toward her he had to shove his way through an even thicker crowd than he saw when he mentally mapped out his original path to her location. It was as if these guys were trying to keep him from reaching her and one dude practically fell at his feet because he was so wasted. 

Luckily she was standing on a platform near the double doors waving so he was able to navigate this way through the bodies. As he came closer he caught his breath. She was wearing the tightest gold dress that barely covered the important parts of her body and it shone so brightly that even without a reflective ball hanging from the ceiling he still saw glittered confetti falling from above. Her long blond hair fell perfectly in front of her shoulders and framed her face just right. He was clearly blown away but this is exactly why he practiced not turning into a complete moron at the sight of her a hundred times that day. He had to do his best to be cool. 

“Hey Cassy,” said Jake. Her smile brightened and he could smell her lip gloss just as vividly as that moment in the library thinking only that he wondered what it tasted like. “Ohhhhh Jake I’m so glad you came! Meet Chad and Brad they’re my twins from my Fall Greek rush class. We share the same big bro.” Jake had no idea what that really meant, and although it seemed platonic enough he couldn’t help but notice how they were holding on to her waist as she threw her arms on each one of their shoulders. The twins just nodded their heads in greeting and Jake couldn’t help but imagine them with little propeller hats on the top of their head as tweedle dum and tweedle dee. Cassy broke his mental image and yelled over the music, “The keg’s inside, and the bar has all the hard stuff and mixers.” 

Trying not to sound too awkward Jake asked, “What are you having?” “Vodka Red bull!” she nearly screamed and he strained to hear her. “Need a refill?” he questioned, “sure. I’ll come with you,” she responded. He never drank before and he tried not to show it. He couldn’t help but notice that the bottom of his shoes practically peeled off the floor with every step and he wondered what kind of rancid materials were layered on the floors. The counter was overflowing with mixers and bottles, and he searched around for the key ingredients. Cassy spotted them first and leaned over to grab them before handing them to him to pour. He tried not to look at the bottle and can as if they were aliens landing on a foreign planet and didn’t let himself think and simply poured too glasses with half of each liquid. 

She looked him straight in the eye as they tapped plastic red cups and he studied her face without trying to look like a creeper. Her eye shadow wasn’t shadow at all, in fact it was almost the exact shade of mined gold that was sprinkled all over her dress and tinted her green eyes the exact shade of the famed Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he took his first swig, not wanting to lower his glass until the exact moment she did, which was apparently several gulps later. The vodka tasted terrible but the Red Bull hid the worst of it and when she finally paused she shook out her blond hair and sighed in satisfaction. Before he got a moment to say another word she took him by his hand and pulled him out on the dance floor. 

The rest of the night fell away. Jake remembers bits and pieces, jumping to the beat of the base with the crowd, a few more trips to the bar, then nothing. Cassy was a goddess, he felt lucky just to be in her presence, and the next morning when he woke up with her naked in his tiny twin bed reeking of vodka, she even jokingly pointed that fact out to him. Jake laughed at her comment but then fell back into his head and ran through all the insecurities he had been struggling with throughout high school. Puberty was tough on him. Most of his life he had been the shortest kid in class which came with its own social frustrations of ridicule and jokes, then add the bottle thick glasses, dense curly hair, and rolling backpack that your mom made you use to avoid scoliosis and you look like a side-show freak. He wished he grew up in today’s world where those damn backpacks are not even questioned and glasses are actually trendy. It honestly made no sense to Jake, especially since he heard that hipsters who don’t even need glasses actually buy the frames for fashion purposes rather than to help them see clearly. Why did he have to go through all that hell and now it’s all completely acceptable? 

He shook off the image of his former self and looked down at Cassy cuddling next to him. He regretted that he didn’t quite remember how she had landed next to him, and his head clearly was punishing him for it, but it must have been an amazing night by the looks of it. After a few moments of falling in-and-out of sleep, Cassy looked at the clock on his desk behind them, casually shrugged, and said, “Oops, looks like I missed Mr. Collin’s class,” and settled her head back on Jake’s shoulder. He looked at the clock and noted that he had a few more hours until his art history class and didn’t dare move from her side. 

The next few months flew by and he felt like he was on some sort of intense drug, despite the fact that he had never even tried any at that point in his life. Yeah he got his homework done but he found himself not caring nearly as much about getting a perfect 4.0 GPA. With Cassy there his life fell into whirlwind of sex, alcohol, sorority mixers, and house parties. He went to every class, even on the toughest mornings where the hangover was just too painful to breath, and she floated through those she surprisingly made it to by rotating between nerds a few weeks before each test. 

Parents’ weekend soon arrived and both Cassy and Jake were on cloud nine when they introduced each other to their parents. His parents were taken back by her beauty just as much as he had been the first day they met, and her parents liked him a hell of a lot more than the “hoodlums” she dated before him but clearly looked down on his family’s humble economic status. Overall though, the families took to each other fine, but the two were happy when they headed home and left them to their new liberating college lifestyle by the end. 

It wasn’t until right before they left for winter break that they came down from their high. Cassy hadn’t been feeling well for the past week or so, and although he brought her any and all remedies upon request, she mostly stayed to her bedroom in the sorority house. He packed up and was prepped to say goodbye for the short break when he opened his door and there she stood. Something was wrong. She was hiding that smile and body he loved so much and although she still looked beautiful her eyes were red and she stepped deathly into his room and shut the door. 

He went to hug her as he began to say, “What’s wro –.” But before he could finish she blurted out, “I’m pregnant,” and he stumbled back. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and he didn’t know whether to comfort her or question her for certainty. Then with the air between them as frozen the iceberg that sunk the titanic, she simply straightened up, wiped her tears, forced herself to grin and said, “I’m going to handle the situation, I just wanted to let you know. I’ll call you when I get to my parents.” The entire moment lasted a whole minute and a half at best, and she was gone. 

Cassy clearly didn’t want a baby and shamelessly expressed how “it would ruin their lives and her body,” not to mention how she couldn’t imagine something hanging off her boob like some animal for months.  Jake on the other hand, although he was well aware that they were not prepared and knew the timing was terrible, he couldn’t help but toss around baby names in his head and wonder if they were going to have a girl or a boy. He hoped that whatever it was he would get Cassy’s good looks. And there it was – hope. He realized that he really wanted this baby no matter how scary it was. After the same debates, fights, and true terror that all teenagers have with the “Right to choose,” in the end they decided to keep the baby.  Jake ultimately convinced Cassy of a “happily ever after” together, and his parents were traditionalist anyways, whether she wanted the baby or not they would do everything in God’s power to let that child live. So they got married, moved into family housing when they got back to Mizzou and had their daughter Jade. 

In the early days they were happy again for a brief period of time. Cassy looked gorgeous holding their daughter and simply could not imagine his life without the two of them. He studied while feeding the baby, determined to finish his degree no matter how difficult. Instead of story time, he would read her his textbooks, often animating the details as if they were exciting characters out of a fairytale rather than digital brushstroke techniques. Every time he had a new project in an art or graphics class he would talk to Jade as he brainstormed ideas for his grand visions and she would smile at him with the same charm his mother had that day in the library. 

Every moment he caught his daughter’s smile he looked at her mother, trying to find that same smile he fell in love with, but all he saw was disappointment behind her eyes. He did everything he could to make her happy, make dinner, handle the house chores, and feed Jade at night so she wouldn’t have to wake up. But of course, although she may be oblivious to it at times, ultimately when he would forget the smallest of tasks, she would always call him out on them. Although he was flush with exhaustion he still picked himself up, told himself he should have remembered that, and moved on to reconcile the misstep.  

He had truly tried everything but as time went on Cassy started to get angry at Jake without explanation and would leave without notice of where or when she’d be back. Jake understood that this was hard. Hell he understood it the most considering he was doing all of the work, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt and figured she just needed to blow off steam. Until one night when she didn’t come home at all. 

Jake texted her, called her a million times, even reached out to her parents, who by this time hated him more than those “hoodlums” they had been so happy he was not when they met him at parents’ weekend. Nothing. It wasn’t until a week and a half later that she woke him up from a nap he was taking with Jade to tell him that it was over. He slowly slid out of their bed and gently moved Jade to her crib his parents bought her at Cassy’s baby shower. He turned on the baby monitor, not that he needed it in their tiny apartment, cracked the bedroom door just in case, and followed Cassy to the living room.  

She looked good, and although he was relieved that she was okay he felt this intense anger toward her, especially realizing that he didn’t want her to look amazing, he wanted her to look like an explanation that consisted of unfortunate events that prevented her from making it home. But before he could open his mouth to yell as loud as he could at her in a whisper so Jade wouldn’t wake up she spoke, “I met someone.”

Like that first night with her at the frat house the rest of the conversation was a blur. The bits and pieces Jake caught went in and out….He was one of her frat twin’s brothers….They met at a party the first night that she didn’t come home….an invitation to Paris where his family was flying out to the next day….a café on the river… And then she was gone. He almost didn’t realize it until the door closed behind her and the light through the window caught the tiny emerald of her wedding ring that sat on the table. Just then he heard Jade’s cry break the silence that Cassy left behind, turned toward the bedroom, and blinked. 

When he opened his eyes he was back on the wood-planked dock outside his cabin and part of the diamond sky was missing from his vantage point. There was a shadow that fell over him from someone blocking the dim lights coming from the cabin. He turned around to find Jade standing a few feet away, hugging her teddy bear and blanket that she clearly dragged through the dirt to get to where Jake was. 

“I can’t sleep daddy,” Jade said in a small, tired voice. Jake sat up, reached out to his daughter and said, “Come here baby girl,” and the once sharp and bitter memory fell away the moment Jade took three tiny steps toward him. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled into his lap. Jade had her mother’s green eyes and blond hair but had his curls that always fell in front of her shoulders. She was wearing her favorite color – purple, complete with spots of dried milk that she spilled on her onesie before she went to bed. He was reminded in that moment of what he realized many times since that day Cassy left and he turned toward the bedroom when Jade cried – his favorite color was a blotchy sort of purple.  

Our Journey of Faith

An autobiographical short story written by TINE & HENNIE SMITH, Dutch Indonesian-American immigrants who prove that love endures all. It is the miraculous story that circumvents the globe from surviving Japanese concentration camps, a journey around the world with five kids and founding a legacy of faith and love for generations in their beloved new homeland.

TINE & HENNIE SMITH

OUR JOURNEY OF FAITH

AUGUST 1993

It was in the thirties in the former Dutch East Indies, now called Indonesia, when Tine and I were high school sweethearts, that we started our journey of faith by joining a membership class of the Dutch Reformed Church. We were only 17 at the end of the one year course, while you have to be 18 or older to become a member. The minister knew this and said that he had to bring it up at a board meeting. Lucky for us that the decision was in our favor. So we became members. It was in this same church that 7 years later on July 3, 1941, Tine and I got married. The text that the minister used at the ceremony was from Matthew 19, verse 6: “What therefore God has joined together, let no man put asunder”. This text appeared to be very important for both of us, in particular during World War II. Five months after our wedding on December 7, 1941 Pearl Harbor was attacked. Holland, at that time occupied by the Germans, had a government in England – so we were in a state of war and the Dutch declared war on Japan. As a result of this, 3 days after Pearl Harbor’s attack, I was mobilized in the Dutch army with a war destination about 400 miles from home. That meant that I had to leave Tine.

When the Japanese occupied the Dutch East Indies in March 1942 I was taken as prisoner of war while Tine was still able to stay out of a concentration camp for a few months. Not having any income, Tine had to sell some of our possessions so she could buy food. During these few months, they were able to have church at the people’s homes, because the churches were used for storage by the Japanese. Because of the civil function I had before the war, we were kind of known with the Indonesian authorities and when occasionally a food distribution took place, this happened at our home with a Japanese and Indonesian police witnessing.

One day Tine was picked up by Japanese soldiers and put in jail because a certain “Smith” escaped from camp and they thought it was me. Every day a Japanese with an Indonesian policeman asked Tine where I was hiding. Finally after a week an Indonesian authority (could be compared with a Mayor) who knew us personally was able to convince the Japanese that the escapee was not Tine’s husband, so they finally released Tine. A few months later, Tine was picked up by the Japanese and taken to a concentration camp, locally, with only a few belongings. The Japanese gathered about 200 and some Dutch for that camp and they voted a Catholic priest to be camp leader. It was strange that the Japanese allowed church services in camp. Regardless of denomination, the people went to a Catholic Mass. The Japanese insisted that when you pass a guard, you stop, make front to him and bow for him. One day Tine didn’t do that and was called back. She had to stand still, make front to him and he slapped her in her face, after which she could continue.

After a few months, the Japanese gathered all males between 16 and 50 and took them away to another camp, including the Catholic priest, the camp leader. Then came the time to find another camp leader. The people selected Tine to be it, but she declined on account of her age. She was only 25 then, while there were so many older women with more experience. The people talked and talked with Tine and after a few days, Tine gave in. Then came a very hard time for Tine to take all the responsibilities of the camp. It was then that the Japanese occasionally allowed an Indonesian or Chinese minister to lead church services in camp, while several times it was Tine who led the services. Tine went every other week with 3 Japanese guards to an open market to buy food for the whole camp. Now and then the Japanese allowed the prisoners to have visitors. We had a very loyal female servant who came to see Tine and brought clothes and money from a sale. Tine gave her the key to our home. So it stayed until the Japanese surrendered. During the occupation both Tine and I were allowed 3 times to write a postcard, but neither of us had ever received one. After the Japanese surrendered, the Indonesians fought for their independence and the whole camp just changed hands from Japanese to Indonesians. This was in August 1945.

I was put in a concentration camp with about 2000 fellow POWs, many of whom were Officers. The Japanese wanted us to sign a paper whereby we declared our loyalty to the emperor of Japan and that we not try to escape. It took a lot of deliberations between our camp leader and Officers whether to sign it or not. They finally decided to do it, because it would not have any value under pressure. After a year, our conquerors decided to ship us to Thailand, while POWs from other camps were shipped to Burma in order to work on a railroad that would connect Bangkok in Thailand with Rangoon in Burma. I was with the contingent to go to Thailand. They put us all in the cargo space of a ship. When we opened some shelves at the bottom of the ship, we found out that it was not only transporting POWs, but also ammunition and powder. We heard that during that time, other transport ships were torpedoed by allied war ships and bombed by planes. Our ship didn’t carry a Red Cross flag as ruled by the Geneva Convention. You can be sure that hundreds of prayers went up to God to save our ship. We were transported like sardines in a can. We could hardly stretch our legs. We sailed in a convoy of 7 ships. Can you imagine our fear one day when we heard airplanes approaching. Lucky for us that we were not bombed. We thanked God when after a week, we arrived in Singapore. After a 3 week stay, the Japanese transported several hundred POWs by cargo train to Thailand. I was among them. They put 40 of us with the little luggage we had in a small cargo wagon without any facilities. We had to sit with our legs pulled up. When we arrived in Thailand we were put in barracks next to a railroad station which was a storage place of all the material to build the railroad. We were there not even a month when at 3:00 o’clock in the morning we heard airplanes approaching. We all ran out to see what was going on. We expected American bombers when suddenly we heard an explosion and an oil tanker was aflame. When t hat first bomb hit that well, hell broke loose with bombs exploding all around us. The pilots didn’t know that next to that huge storage place was a POW camp. Our camp had no trenches to hide in. As a result, 97 of us were killed. We put all the bodies in the open, some of them covered with English, Australian, American and Dutch flags, knowing that after an air attack, reconnaissance planes will fly over to take pictures of the damage. Our purpose with those flags was to let the allies know that we were there. Indeed they must have noticed it, because a few weeks later at daylight, another air raid came and we saw 27 bombers in formation approaching. It was a mighty sight, but scary. We could see the bombs in the bomb bay of the planes and finally we saw them falling, big and small bombs like confetti in the air. But we also noticed that the formation suddenly changed direction in order not to hit our camp. We still lost 7 POWs.

The Japanese put me in a work party of 100 Dutch, 100 English and 100 Australians with the task to nail the rails that another party before us had laid out to the railroad ties. The party that laid out the rails nailed only 1 spike on each end of the rail and our party nailed all the in-between. This meant that our party had to move every so often as the lay-out progressed. We had about 270 miles to cover till we met our fellow POWs who worked up from the Burma side. This is why I also worked on the bridge over the river Kwai, the movie of which some of you may have seen. Believe me, reality was far worse than the movie showed!

We also had to fight serious diseases like cholera, malaria and dysentery, the latter of which was the least. Worst of all, I found, was cholera. The railway was laid as much as possible close to the river, because that was the only water we could use. The Japanese also used thousands of Tamils, people from India. Those people were really dirty. You could smell their camp from miles away and when cholera broke out, we saw hundreds of these people die. It was not uncommon that when we had to get water from the river for cooking, we saw a body floating upstream, a victim of cholera, and we still had to use that water. We had to take strict sanitary precautions like cook our utensils before we ate. Another bad disease was malaria – I fell victim of it. The bad part of being sick is that we had no medication. The little of it we had was saved for the most serious cases. When I had a malaria attack and fell unconscious, I was not aware of an air raid that took place. When I came out of it, I found a bomb shrapnel on my bamboo bed. A bomb exploded about 100 feet away. Some people told me that they were lifted from their bed by the pressure of the explosion. I experienced 13 bombings and machine-gunnings by Americans, but we didn’t mind, because we knew that they were doing something to free us. My malaria worsened and turned into black water fever, an illness whereby you urinate black blood. 90% of these cases end in death. As I said before, the doctors kept the medicine for the real bad cases. They decided that my case was bad enough to give me one quinine shot. Oh, that was painful! I could hardly walk for 3 days, but it pulled me out of the danger and I recovered very slowly.

The Japanese allowed us to celebrate Christmas. Each time we said to each other: “Next year at home”. One time we just started one of these celebrations in Thailand when we heard the sound of coming bombers. This spoiled our Christmas because we were not allowed to continue. We thought it was a little rude to bomb on Christmas Day and not observe it. During the last few months of the war our camp was on an island in the river where we were tasked to bring over Japanese supplies from one side of the river to the other because the bridge over the river was bombed and could not be used. It was on this island that I experienced a cremation of Thai people. They did it very primitively. They put the body on a metal plate over a bunch of wood and burned it. It was strange to see that all of a sudden, the body sat up and then collapsed again. The smell was awful!

When the war was over and we were brought over to a large camp, we couldn’t help but get tears in our eyes when we saw the American, British, Dutch and Australian flags flying high on poles. It was not until March 1946 that I was transported back to the island of Java where I came from. It just so happened that I was stationed, still as a draftee, in the city where Tine’s Mother lived. Her Father passed away during the war. Coming home I found out that Tine was still in camp under the Indonesians who fought their independence against the Dutch. I made several visits to the Red Cross to report this, but nothing helped. Slowly the Indonesians started to free Dutch women and children and I met some people who were in the same camp where Tine was camp leader. When I heard for sure in which camp Tine was, I reported this again to the Red Cross but to no avail. After the women and children were evacuated, Tine ended up with only men in her camp. The Indonesians still didn’t want to free Tine because she was camp leader, until she became ill with malaria and only then was she released. That was in December 1946 that Tine and I met again … after 5 long years. Neither Tine nor I had ever doubted that we would see each other again. “Therefore what God has joined together, let no man put asunder”.

After my demobilization, I was still employed by the State Railway and since Indonesia got their Independence and took it over and I didn’t want to become an Indonesian citizen, I was forced to quit that job and worked after that for 5 years for Shell Oil Co. Our 3 boys were born in Indonesia and it became harder and harder to live there as Dutch citizens. It was even dangerous for us to stay there because Tine’s brother who was a M.P. in the Dutch army was on the Indonesian black list. So his whole family was also in danger. We decided to go back to Holland and left Indonesia in 1954 with only a few belongings. So we had to start in Holland all over again. It was not easy, but with God’s help we rebuilt a new household. Our 2 girls were born in Rotterdam, Holland.

As you may know, Holland is very damp and our 2 older boys became very asthmatic. They sometimes could hardly breathe and one of them, Guido, became so sick that he almost developed T.B. The doctor advised us to go to a warmer climate. Oh sure, easy to say but where to go? In the meantime, we heard of a possibility of immigration to the U.S.A. through the Church World Service. Tine’s brother applied for this but had been waiting for more than 2 years without any result. We had been discussing this very thoroughly. The problem was that our family was very close and all the family gatherings took place at our house. I had a very good job with a pension plan. I was at that time, very active in the parochial schools in the Dutch Reformed Church where I was treasurer for 3 schools.

We finally decided to give it a try and I put in my application on the very last day possible. We prayed: “God, if it is good for us to go, let it be.” There were still many obstacles to overcome, among others that we all had to take a physical and to be screened by the secret service. When our whole family had to appear before the American Consul and arrived in the waiting room, the whole room was full of applicants. We were there not even 10 minutes when to our surprise, my name was called. What we had not expected was that the consul spoke Dutch, which put us at ease. We had to answer many questions and coming home we said “What will be, will be.” And then we came to the big surprise. After 3 months we received a letter that our family was accepted for immigration to the United States and our sponsor was the Methodist Church in Corona. We were perplexed to hear that and we were not even ready to go. We didn’t even have enough money to pay for our share of the trip over. I had to make a government loan to pay for it. We received letters, newspapers and a Corona Chamber of Commerce book from the lay leader of this church to get us a little bit familiar with Corona. The Sunday before we left Holland we attended church service whereby they all prayed for our well-being. They gave us a Bible in English as well as Dutch to remember everyone by. The same day that we left Holland an article with our picture was in the Corona Daily Independent. We came over by ship but that was not a fun trip. we experienced a violent storm and were not allowed on deck because the waves were so high that they broke a window on the second deck. That was in January 1961. On our way from Halifax, Canada to Hoboken [New Jersey, USA] where we were to debark, we were in a heavy snowstorm so that certain areas aboard were out of bounds for the passengers because of the snow accumulation. Arriving in Hoboken we found out that a longshoreman strike was going on so we had to handle our own luggage. We boarded the train to Chicago where we had to change trains. We were in such a deep freeze on the way to Chicago that the water in the restrooms wa s frozen. Because the train could not run his normal speed, we missed our connection. We managed to stay overnight at the YMCA with the 3 youngest children, while we left our luggage under the supervision of the 2 older boys, then 12 and 10 years old, at the station. We won’t dare to do that now. When we continued our journey we noticed armed cowboys in the train and thought “Is it so unsafe that we need armed escort?” We later found out that they were on their way home from President Kennedy’s inauguration. As a last obstacle, we had to wait a long time somewhere in New Mexico because there was a big derailment. We then finally arrived in San Bernardino [California] about 11:00 p.m. We noticed so many people at the station, more than 100. We surprisingly found out that they all were there to welcome us. And so we arrived Friday about midnight at 907 Howard Street in Corona on January 23, 1961. We were interviewed the next day by the Daily Independent [the Corona local newspaper]. Although our children didn’t speak English then, we sent them to school the following Monday. The first few days some of them came home crying because they didn’t understand the others, but after 3 or 4 months they had an “A” in English. One of our boys, Hans, even skipped 2d grade. The first years were very rough.

After a few months on a job I experienced my first lay-off ever. We were not familiar with this kind of system. The whole family did everything to keep our heads above water. I worked as a dishwasher, mowed lawns, and cleaned houses with Tine. Tine baked cakes that were sold by John Collins, Doris’ husband at his work. She did ironing till 3:00 o’clock in the morning. Guido sold newspapers in front of Alpha Beta [a supermarket], which is now Honey’s Restaurant. Some days we had to wait until Guido came home with some money so we could buy some food. We knew that we could have asked our sponsor, the United Methodist Church, for help, but we were too proud to hold out our hands. After a few months, with the help of our lay leader, I became employed at Corona Clipper Company in Corona. The owner of the house we lived in wanted to sell the house and nobody wanted to rent a house to a family with 5 children. We found an opportunity to buy a house in foreclosure, but I didn’t qualify with my $1.75 per hour earnings unless somebody would co-sign. Our lay leader offered to do that and we bought the house we still live in. We became American Citizens in 1967. Our boys who had asthma, the cause of our move to America, are doing well healthwise. As a matter of fact, all our children are well off. Edwin served this country for 3 years, one year of which in Vietnam and one year in Germany. He made good use of the G.I. Bill and got his degree in Psychology. He has his own business as a Counselor in Rehabilitation, is doing real well and is studying to get his PhD. Not that he needs it, but it’s for his ego. Guido, while at U.C.R. went for a year as an exchange student to Germany. He is a lawyer having his own business. Hans is a computer programmer for the Navy in Norco. Guido and Hans were youth counselors at our church. Barbara is Personnel Director of Doctors’ Hospital of Montclair and Ontario Community Hospital in Ontario. Gaby, our youngest girl was an escrow officer and is married to a lawyer. They all bought their own houses. We now have eight beautiful grandchildren.

When Rev. Hubbell asked me if I wanted to take care of the church, how could I refuse? I took care of the church for 13 years and the whole family helped with the cleaning until I had to give it up because of my heart attack. All the children sang in the youth choir. Sometimes only the children of both Smith families showed up to sing and for a while they called it “The Smith Choir”. Now all the children have left the house, but we are lucky that they all live close by.

It happened that during the first year here in America, Tine wanted to go back to Holland. Now that we have been back in Holland several times, we don’t ever want to live there anymore. Circumstances there have changed and we have changed too!

Do you believe in miracles? Tine and I do. I’ll tell you why. It’s remarkable that it concerns the wedding rings of both of us. I lost mine 3 times and I got it back 3 times. The first time was when our forces capitulated and we were waiting for the Japanese to take us to our concentration camp. We were bathing in a mountain stream with a swift current and lots of rocks and I discovered that my wedding ring was gone. My friends and I have been looking for it for more that 2 1/2 hours when I said, “I give up”, but my friends insisted to keep looking and all of a sudden, one of my friends said “I found It!”. The second time was in Thailand. As usual, our work party left early in the morning when at the end of the day our guards said that we are not returning to the camp. You must know that the Japanese were always after jewelry and fountain pens. I had hidden my wedding ring in a hole of a bamboo where I slept. The following day I recognized a friend in a passing work party from the camp I didn’t come back to. I told him about my ring and to get it for me. A few days later I met that friend again with my ring. The third time was here in Circle City Hospital after my heart attack in 1980. They took me to the x-ray room and I didn’t think of my watch and ring. In the meantime, the person who came in my old room was discharged with my watch and ring. The day that I was discharged I asked the nurse about my ring and watch. They couldn’t find them and told me that they would check it out. Miraculously, the person who got my belongings turned them in to the hospital and the hospital called me to let me know that I could pick them up.

Stronger yet is the disappearing of Tine’s wedding ring. It was a few years ago that Tine told me very upset that she lost her wedding ring. She could have lost it while doing dishes or whatever. We looked for it for days every place in the house, but no ring was found and we gave up. A few months later when we were sitting in our living room, Tine very surprised said to me “Look Hen”, pointing to her finger, “my ring”. We both got goose bumps. You can call this what you want, but to us these were miracles that God showed us.

This is our “JOURNEY OF FAITH”.