We move to Wedderveer

During August we moved to Wedderveer. We settled our affairs with the Bosker family, who owned the farm we were on in Blijham. They were not too pleased with us leaving. Dirk and Wendeltje Bosker had both passed away already and just Jan and Jurrie had remained. But they managed to lease out the farmland and the house was now to be occupied by our neighbour’s son, Jan Kuiper. After August, nothing else needed to be done other than harvesting the potatoes and shipping them by barge to the factory. They all had to be delivered for human consumption. Now we could enjoy a more normal life, for which we were very thankful. Even our labourers, Jacob Drewes and Geert Bultena were happy. Two capable guys who didn’t waste any time. The other labourer, who had been the leader of the team, had left already, since he could not stand me. He was frustrated “to death,” was his comment. Well then, you might as well leave, had been my conclusion.

And so, Geert Bultena became my full time assistant and Drewes stayed with me until after the auction, when we left for Canada. In the fall, one of our best horses was taken by the local government authorities, a common practise right after the war, and an old horse had died. I had to obtain a requisition from the government to buy a new horse so, instead, I purchased a modified Model A Ford that had been converted to a tractor. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bit of a disaster since it was forever in need of repairs, invariably when you needed the thing the most.

Conflict with owner Siks

Once, it was in the fall, we were loading potatoes for shipment by barge, when Mr. Siks showed up on the worksite. He was the NSB owner of the farm and asked to talk to me. My reply was ok, fine, but I don’t have a lot of time. He said, “Can we take a walk and talk, since I would like to ask if you could pay a higher rental fee, because I can’t survive on what you are paying currently.” I told him that I would think about it and asked him to come back the next day. In the evening, after work, I told the story to mom. We concluded that his request was not unreasonable, but then he too would need to be reasonable with us. We decided to tell him the following: We are willing to pay a higher fee, but you need to extend the time period from six years to twelve. The rental fee would be reviewed and set by the authorities and reviewed after the first six years. We felt this was a reasonable compromise.

The next day he returned, and we gave him our proposal which he outright rejected. He angrily walked away, threatening to go to the authorities, which he in fact did. The following week Mr. Hesse, from the town of Ter Apel, arrived at our door as a member of the ‘pachtkamer’ authorities. I was busy working the land and my wife sent him to the fields to see me. He told me that Mr. Siks had been to see him and that we were unwilling to pay a higher rental fee, that I was a bad farmer who knew how to grow weeds better than grain. We had all the advantages, shares in the potato starch company, company, share in the threshing machine as well as shares in Reiderland the cardboard factory which all generated advantages. I told Mr. Hesse that the first thing was true, but. As to the latter, you had better be the judge yourself.

But let me tell you this, I said. When I arrived here, the farm had been totally neglected. It was mostly rye flowers, but little grain, the soil was totally overgrown with twitch grass and exhausted from fertilizer neglect, fertilizer that had been sold in the black market instead of being used to enrich the soil. When it comes to the lease price of the land, as I reported previously, in exchange for the additional six years, rental fees would be set by the authorities, renewable every three years. Well, he said, what else does the man want? That kind of an offer he had better swallow. My reply was that Mr. Siks wanted me out at any price, to which Mr. Hesse responded that this was probably quite correct. As we walked back to the farm, I asked him if he wished to inspect the rest of the land to confirm my earlier statements about the land conditions. But he waved it off, saying that he had seen enough and would bring out his report to his office in Groningen.

To the Pachtkamer in Groningen

A few weeks later we received notice to appear before the authorities of the Pachtkamer in Groningen. I went in the morning and had just seated myself, after having introduced myself to these gentlemen who directed me to be seated off to the side. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Siks arrived. So the chairman asked, “are you Mr. Siks, the owner of the farm in Wedderveer, to which he replied “Yes Sir”. Now, go ahead with what you have to say, the chairman said. His response was that Mr. van der Laan has rented my farm for fl40 per deimt and that I can’t survive on this, and, additionally, he has the use of my shares in the potato and straw factories as well as the threshing machines. I also still have a small mortgage on the farm and various other taxes with the result that I have very little left over to live off. Well, said the chairman, could you not negotiate an agreement with Mr. van der Laan, to which he replied that he did not want to hear of it.

The chairman then replied that he understood that there had been a proposal, and that they had sent a representative to me to get further details, who then reported back that the proposal sounded imminently reasonable. “I don’t want such a negligent farmer on my land,” was his reply. To which the chairman replied that it was easier to neglect a farm for three years than it would be to build it back up in three years and clear it from weeds and neglect. To this Mr. Siks had no response. Do you have any additional comments, he was asked, but there were none.

“Well then, if not, we ask Mr. van der Laan to make his statement.” I said that I would have little comment, but that when it comes to the shareholdings, that is true, and that he was stretched for income. But I also know that he continues to lie about the rest, and for that I have no good words to say. I believe I have made a reasonable offer, that you know about as well as he does, though he neglected to mention it. If he can be reasonable, then so can I. As to my professional farming skills, you can easily check this and inform yourself anywhere.

Mr. Siks do you have anything else to say or ask, the chairman asked, to which his reply was no. He stood up and threw his chair back, headed for the door and slammed it shut behind him. He knew he had lost this battle for now, but at some point, he would win it and he knew that, even though it would be through a long trek of poverty. He was granted an additional token of 100fl/year. We very seldom saw him after that, even though he had dropped by from time to time previously. We knew that the hated us.

Accidents

Life continued on its normal path. We had many accidents in Wedderveer. Stiny with her foot under the tractor while she was sliding down from the haymow, but which fortunately came to a good end. Henk and Ina Bousema were vacationing with us at the time and they remembered it like this “We had climbed up into the hay loft then down again to where the tractor was and Stiny ran up to her Dad to ask him what time it was. He was somewhat surprised by her and let go of the brake with the result that the tractor moved forward and ran over her foot. Fortunately, it didn’t look bad and after a few days it was all back to normal.”

Then Rika broke her arm because brother Co and his buddy, a son of the family Boltendal, dropped a bale of straw from above and hit Rika who was playing below. Another time, one winter, we were in the barn working, and Rika was on the wagon with a back gate partially open so that when she leaned on it it

swung open and she fell headfirst on the concrete floor. Did we ever worry about that for a long time, but that too eventually did no harm. The Lord every time provided again for a good outcome. And so the the years passed by with their joys and sadnesses, and we can say that the Lord blessed us richly during those years.

The Lease runs out, searching for alternatives

Eventually, the lease period for the Wedderveer farm would come to an end. In the late 30’s, a new lease law had come into play where the lessors were protected from unreasonable lease agreements. For example, a farm could not be leased out for less than 12 years, where after the lessor could immediately renew the lease again for an additional 12 years for the same rate. Therefore, understandably, there were very few farms that would ever come up for lease. Selling property and farms was also not very common since, upon sale of a farm, it would be fully taxed and the selling price set by authorities, so that no-one wanted to sell. Once in a while it would happen, but then there were always special conditions (frequently illegal), with a certain amount being paid “under the table”. In reality, this would be considered a punishable criminal offence.

So it happened that a 25 ha farm came up for sale in Westerbork not far from our Meindert Beekhuis’ home. The owner wanted to retire. It was assessed at fl 56,000, which was reasonable. But, says the owner, there is a small estate for sale with a large chicken barn as well as birdhouses and 2 ha of property, not far from here, for the sum of fl 40,000. If you buy that property and resell it to me for 1 guilder, then we would have a deal, which, in fact, would have us paying fl 96,000. And what if that deal came to light? Well that would be our problem and not his, it was the buyer’s risk. After some lengthy deliberation, we decided to take a pass on it.

A little later, two newly developed farms near Sellingen, which had been developed by the government, were put up for sale and published in the paper (These were usually farm lands recovered from the bogs where the peat had been harvested and which were called the “veenkolonien”). There was one day when you could come and visit the sites. I went with a neighbouring farmer, Cootje Bessembinders and saw an unbelievably large crowd. The lease master of the State Property Authorities stood on the road and read the conditions. The lease rate was fl 112 per ha. The land had to be composted every 3 years and well spread with manure and fertilizer.

Also recommended that it should have about 10 cow population. There was no opportunity to sign up but applications would be welcomed.

So that’s what we did. Our mayor, Mr. Waalkens, was on the board of the Dominion and had weekly office hours at the hotel Schober in Vlagtwedde and so we decided to make an appointment. We knew each other well, being both from Blijham. As I walked in he said “are you here?” Surprised him I guess. “O yes,” was my response, “we have solicited for the farm opportunity in Sellingerbeetse and came to ask if you would recommend me to your board.” “Well now, you’re asking something, he replied, that over one hundred more have also asked me.. There were 224 solicitors.” I told him that I certainly believed that, but that there was probably no one in as desperate situation as I was. He readily agreed with that and promised that he would do his best. First they selected 24 and made site visits with all. They then shortened the list to 12 and then divided by two so that only 6 remained. Those were visited again by the lease master and his supervisor, so that now only 3 remained, of which we were one. From there these three were put into a lottery and we were eliminated.

No alternative but to emigrate

How difficult a time we had of it, during this period, is not possible for me to describe. Going to a foreign country,  whose language we don’t speak,  and where everything else is strange as well. Leaving our family and everything else to which we are attached. We couldn’t sleep and at times walked through our home at night because we could simply not stay in bed. Fortunately Mom dealt with this much better than I could, buoyed by her faith, and she gave me a lot of support. So I went to the emigration office in Groningen and registered our family for the process to come. Now these were open doors as they told me about some of the things we could expect such as details about arrival and welcome. This was in the fall but they said it would most likely be April/May before we could expect to leave which was fine with me. At home I shared my visit, and Stiny as well as Harry were enthusiastic. That would be something else—all the way to Canada. Mom and I remained resigned to it all, but were also somewhat relieved that there would be a future, and we could sleep again. Now, we still had to harvest and ship some of our potato crop. Once that was finished we still had a lovely winter together. We didn’t have much to do except to feed and milk a few cows. The grain in the barn still had to be threshed, sold and shipped. After that the straw—it all went gradually. In the spring, we held the auction and so gradually we burned our bridges (ships the Dutch would say) behind us till we had nothing left. After the auction, we felt that the most. We sold our furniture as well and bought new since the old was not worth the freight costs. It had been used for 19 years.