BIOGRAPHY: The story of Willem Kapteyn (Born October 27, 1901) after the family moved from the Netherlands to Canada as told to this writer (Bryan William Kapteyn) by his mother, Dirkje Kapteyn (born February 1, 1931)
BIOGRAPHY: My mother, Dirkje Kapteyn, grew up in Nieuwerkerk aan den Ijssel, a small town south of Rotterdam, The Netherlands. Her father, Willem Kapteyn, was a successful greengrocer who built a good business with greenhouses. He would grow vegetables in the greenhouses, and take them to the large markets near Rotterdam, which attracted buyers from other parts of Europe; Britain, France, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and other countries. Because he could get his produce to market before his competitors, (due to his greenhouses) he had an edge, and was able to exploit this advantage. However, during and after the Second World War, this advantage evaporated for two reasons. Number one, Europe's economy was in a shambles. Infrastructure was destroyed; roads were not maintained during the war, rail lines had to be rebuilt, communications were interrupted, the port of Rotterdam was partially destroyed, and in short, the international market that Opa had exploited prior to the war did not exist anymore. Secondly, my grandfather's greenhouse glass had been partially broken during the war years, so he did not have the early market advantage that he held earlier. He sold what glass he had left to raise some money, but he never was able to recover from the devastation of the war years. The economy was in such a shambles after the war that my grandmother, (Frederica Wilhelmina, born September 15, 1902) coaxed Opa into immigrating to Canada. This was arranged, and so the family, all nine of them, got ready to move to Canada in 1950. They did not travel by ship from Rotterdam as so many Dutch people headed for the USA did, but rather they took a train to Le Havre, France, to board an English registry vessel from the Cunard Line, the same company that had owned the Titanic. The name of the ship was the "Samaria." When they entered France and neared the coastal area, the fog was so bad that they were notified the ship would not depart on the planned day. So they ended up taking the train to Paris instead, and spent about a day and a half there. They had great fun during this short stay. They even got to go up into the Eiffel Tower.
After the family got on board ship, they traveled to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, and took a train from there to Thedford, Ontario, where Opa was under contract to work for a year. This was the way most immigration happened in Canada during the post WW II days; one promised to work for someone for one year in exchange for entry and citizenship. The man Opa went to work for was a doctor by the name of Haigmeyer. When the family first arrived on the farm, they were appalled at the conditions. They expected to be located near a town, with some semblance of civilization. They had a quite comfortable place in the Netherlands, and did not expect to come to another country and take a cut in their standard of living. Boy, were they in for a surprise! They were way out in the country, with nothing around them. Their 'house' was nothing more than a shack, devoid of all furnishings. It was probably comparable to what the migrant workers used to live in when they traveled north in the summer to pick fruits and vegetables. Opa was really upset at this. They were not expecting the furniture for awhile yet, so their unfurnished hovel was a sore disappointment. Oma, on the other hand, always one to make the best of a bad situation, calmly set about sprucing the place up. She found some saw horses and some planks and made a table, she found some more boards and conjured up some makeshift benches, put sheets on the planks for a tablecloth, and pretty soon she had soup going on the stove. My grandmother was a pillar of strength and serenity at all times. Even during the war her calm and determined demeanor always amazed the family.
The next day, Opa was on the phone complaining strenuously to the board of immigration about the conditions, and wanted them to send the family back to the Netherlands. Needless to say, this did not work, and soon Opa was making the best of it with Oma. Because Opa and Dr. Haigmeyer were of a like mind, he and Opa soon became good friends. I think Opa became his favorite tenant, based on my mother's observations of their conversations and the way Dr. Haigmeyer treated Opa with respect.
After the year was over, the whole family moved to Sarnia, Ontario, and Opa went into the construction business with my Uncle Pete. This did not work out so well, since Opa and uncle Pete had frequent disagreements over how things should be done. Since Opa had been a farmer all his life, he soon found a farm with about 100 acres about 10 miles east of Sarnia in Wyoming, Ontario, and started farming there raising broilers, which are chickens raised for frying. After about 15 years, he leased half of this land to my uncle Lex, who bought the farm next to Opa, and they both raised broilers for several years. When Opa retired, he sold everything to uncle Lex, who subsequently sold the farm himself, and retired quite comfortably.
WWII_anecdotes: When Willem (my grandfather, born 27 October, 1901) recieved word that he was under suspicion by the Gestapo, he went into hiding for the last year of the war. My mother (Dirkje) remembers that she did not see much of her dad for this period of time.
(oorzaak: Oma had diabetes which wasn't detected until she was in a coma, and the following year she finally died of a heart attack.).
DEATH: Great Uncle Jan had a very good head for business which demonstrated itself at a very early age. Even though he made quite a lot of money in his lifetime, he comitted suicide by gassing himself. As my dad Pieter Nicolaas tells the story he lost a lot of his wealth because of the war, and in a despondant state killed himself. The ironic aspect of this is that when his estate was finally settled, it was discovered that he was still worth about 1/2 million. he was worth much more than that before the war, but 500,000 guilders would still have kept him in droppies.
BIOGRAPHY: Cornelis moved to Canada near Wilmot Station, Nova Scotia sometime during the 1950's
BIOGRAPHY: Arie moved to America in 1910. Based on the record of the birth of his brother Dirk Nicolaas, I believe he first went to Holland, Michigan.
The following was in a local paper following the death of Dirk Floris van den Dool, known in the underground as Van Tol. This may have been from an underground paper.
On February 2, 1945 the old district leader of the LO from Nieuwerkerk aan den Ijssel was shot in Amersfoort.
A wave of emotion went through the towns of Rotterdam and Nieuwerkerk, where he also had contacts at various meeting places and no incriminating evidence was found.
Van Tol was a big part of the resistance, not only for the Dutch case, but also a warrior for his Heavenly king.
Those who knew him, loved him. He was a principled Calvinist, very strong.
He fell by sordid betrayal. a onderduiker (ome piet) already a few months he was in the house, went to a barber in the village at the end of October, but never came back. Until December 31, 1944, late afternoon, he came back in uniform sleeves with a group of 30 SD-ers, stole the food and raided the house totally empty.
Fortunately, no suspicious material was found. This was still the only hope that this is a means to his rescue.
A day later, his friends went to his garden at night and removed all the material, so if the SD-ers came back, they would not find anything. They plowed the country and overthrew a haystack, but found nothing.
We're grateful to the friends, and their prayers rose up: O God, save him!
But God's ways are different than ours. On 2 febuary 1945, he was sent as a reprisal measure to amersfoort with 20 others and these men the enemy shot.
Typical for him was that his wife received a note after 3 weeks, including Goods it read: Forgive piet ( traitor) take away what he done, I have forgiven him. Let us pray much for each other.
He followed his Savior and left a lovely wife and 8 children behind.
Brother, friend, Colleague, of van den Dool there is no more. Killed at 42 years of age. We shall never forget him, this man of such a great belief and principle. Hard, tough worker, you were a hero, a great man.