This is the period of dad’s life that we know the least about. The few paragraphs here are written by Wendy with input from her sisters based on the few stories dad has told us. From pictures we know that he enrolled in an Agricultural School, probably in Gouda, and that he worked for the Milk Control Agency based in Gouda as an inspector. On one visit to Gouda with my dad I am fairly certain he told me the office he worked in was in The Gouda Waag which today has been turned into a Craft and Cheese Museum. This building, dating from 1668, is located on the main square behind the City Hall. Cheese is still weighed on the traditional scales outside with a horse-drawn wagon once a week during the summer months. Today tour guides tell the story of how cheese was made for hundreds of years by farmers like his father, grandfather and many of his uncles and brothers. His brother Henk was still making cheese the traditional way when I (Wendy) went to Holland in 1977 and sent a 10 lb. cheese back with me. That was not permitted, and I would not have gotten it through customs had my purse been checked, so I had to pretend it was very light and thankfully smuggled this cheese back to my dad who was very happy with it.

From what we know dad enjoyed this work, although he threw out his back one day lifting what he thought was a very heavy can of milk, but it was empty. He had back issues for years because of that. Judith remembers some stories dad shared about his work here. One involved a breaking of the mercury thermomoter in a large tub of curds. When Dad told the farmer and his wife that they would need to throw the curds away, they indicated that they would not sell the resulting cheese, but that they would just use it for their own consumption. Dad was adamant that they were not to consume the cheese. They agreed, but he could tell they were not convinced. He made them promise that they would feed some of the curds to a few chickens first. The result: dead chickens, a startled and relieved farming couple, and a vindicated and thankful cheese inspector

Another story involved a woman who was perplexed at the variation of success she was having in creating a stable curd formation. When Dad asked her how long she stirred the cheese curds, she replied, “Oh, always the same, just as long as it takes to read one chapter.” Ah hah!

The picture of his colleagues travelling with him to Rotterdam when he emigrated suggests he had a good working relationship with them and perhaps he might have stayed there for many years had something else not happened that played a significant role in his decision to emigrate.

As noted elsewhere about his time in Indonesia, his experience of worshipping and working alongside Christians and non-Christians of many backgrounds made it hard for him to adjust to the narrow-minded and judgmental attitude back in Holland. He had also seen a lot more of the world and which made Holland feel even smaller. At some point he developed a relationship with a young woman, and they became engaged. Whether due to a much larger schism in the Netherlands Reformed Congregations or confined to just their area, they found themselves in different denominations. Her father made her break the engagement. Dad has said very little about how this affected him personally, but it was one more factor in his fairly open-minded outlook on life, his ability to see both sides of most arguments and viewpoints, and his tolerance for different expressions and experiences within churches and denominations.