Rest In Peace Uncle

Some say that there is no such thing as closure when a loved one passes on.  I think it depends on the circumstances surrounding that passing.  In my family’s case, it took sixty-seven years for the truth about my uncle’s passing to reach his family.

This photo of Gerardus Petrus Zegers, my uncle, lives on a bookshelf in my mother’s bedroom.  My mother told me that in this photo he is about sixteen.  The scarf he’s wearing was knit by my grandmother.  She also told me that every time she looks at it she wonders what happened to her brother.

According to my mother, in 1943, in Driebergen-Rijsenburg, the Nazis began rounding up able-bodied boys and men to work in their camps.  Two of my mother’s brothers were taken.  My uncle Henk managed to escape and was hidden by a german family.  Gerardus was not so lucky.  He ended up in a camp called Mittelbau-Dora which was a satelite camp of Buchenwald, in Nordhausen, Germany.  While researching I scoured the available photos, on the internet, of arriving prisoners for the scarf my uncle was wearing in a desperate attempt to verify that he was among the laborers.

When the allies bombed the German manufacturing facilities that were above ground the Nazis opened Dora in an abandoned mine.  Here they manufactured their V2 ballistic missiles.  The same missiles that were the cornerstone of the American space program after the second World War.  Sixty-thousand prisoners from 21 nations passed through Dora.  In Camp Dora and Buchenwald, an estimated 20,000 inmates died; 9000 died from exhaustion and collapse, 350 hanged (including 200 for sabotage), the rest died mainly from disease and starvation. In April of 1945 the  104th Timberwolf Army Infantry  and Third Armored Division liberated the surviving prisoners.  Over 1,200 patients were evacuated, with 15 dying en route to the hospital area and 300 then dying of malnutrition.

When news of the liberation reached my family in Driebergen, my grandmother went to the train station daily to greet her son, Gerard, and welcome him home.  He did not come home.  She followed this routine daily for years with the same result.  We didn’t receive any information about the exact fate of my uncle.  Many years later another uncle and brother of Gerardus, Piet, received special permission to cross the Berlin Wall, in hopes of getting information about his brother from the Communist government.  They were not forthcoming.

In March of this year, after researching the internet, I came across a website called the International Tracing Service.  I filled out their application for information about my uncle.  I waited until May and when I heard nothing from them I forwarded my earlier email again.  Finally in September I received a letter from them with the information that my family had waited sixty-seven years to hear.  My uncle Gerardus Petrus Zegers passed away on the twenty-eighth of April 1945 of tuberculosis.  It isn’t clear if he was among the fifteen that died on route to the hospital or one of the 20,000 souls that passed during his imprisonment.  according to civil records he was buried in Nordhausen Cemetery in Grave No. 2.

My mother said that it was too bad that her mom and dad weren’t still alive to finally hear the news of their son.  I reminded her that he is re-united with his mother, father, and two brothers in Heaven.  This Remembrance Day, I honor my uncle, Gerardus Petrus Zegers.

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Lilibet

A blue-eyed babe was born, on Bruton Street in Mayfair.

 No one knew that history would write another page there.

May twenty-first at two a.m. came forth her first decree,

“I’m Elizabeth Alexandra Mary, a Queen that’s yet to be.”

Her father was Prince Albert, the  Duke of York, then King.

Her mother was Elizabeth, of Scottish upbringing.

This little curly blonde haired girl astonished all she met.

A character by all accounts, reflective Lilibet.

Lilibet was crowned the Queen in nineteen fifty-three.

Elizabeth the Second reigns, Her diamond jubilee.

Four Indignitaries (aka Foreign Dignitaries)

Four Indignitaries sitting in a tree.  Each one asked the other, “How could this come to be?  Had we been born as monkeys, we’d  sit contentedly.  How could this happen to Indignitaries such as we?”

Four Indignitaries (same four) walking down a path.  “The future is filled with the Crawlers wrath!  Had we been born dolphins, we’d communicate and laugh.  Indignitary’s happiness would all come down to math.”

Four Indignitaries decide to build a wall.  Each told the Crawlers, “Now neither side will fall.  Had we been born one species, there’d be no one to crawl.  We Four Indignitaries will answer to that call.”

Four Indignitaries (The Foursome) plot to build a fight.  “The Crawlers grow in numbers.  We fear their awesome might.  Pit species against species, so to kill is only right.  Their blood will never stain an Indignitary-ite!”

Tax and Tithe

Well people, I’m stumped.  I saw a post with a picture of Castle Combe, “the prettiest town in England”.  I’m sure it was a prompt for a writing challenge.  After having written my challenge, I searched for the website to link my story.  For the life of me, I can’t find it.  I looked at 100 WC and Friday Fictioneers, but alas it wasn’t there.  I promise you I am not on cheap drugs, or expensive ones for that matter.  I am going to post the story regardless.  Enjoy it!

     The walk from our fields in the Cotswolds to the Market Cross at Castle Combe was twelve miles.  Father and I had four bundles of wool to carry and he worried that we wouldn’t get a spot on the Buttercross to show our wares.  We always got our asking price on the Buttercross, the only way we’d have anything left after tax and tithe.  As was our custom, we offered a prayer at St. Andrews church, “Sancte Gregore ora pro nobis.”

     Once we left the church father always said, “Damn Sir John Fastolfe! Tax and tithe be damned too!”

The Price of Colonization

The terms colonization and European tribe don’t often come up in every-day language.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that these terms are being used by First Nations people to describe my race, my ancestry, me.    I felt really insulted at first but the more I educate myself the more I understand the label.  I’ve learned I am descendant from a European tribe that colonized around the world and was instrumental in decimating the culture, livelihood and inevitably the spirit of the inhabitants.  I used to feel pride in history class when I learned that my homeland, the Netherlands, colonized far off lands filled with savages, untamed wilderness and natural resources galore just waiting to be plundered for Queen and country.  We were taught in school that the explorers were heroes, “Indians” were godless savages, facts backed up by Hollywood’s portrayal of “Indians” on the silver screen.  In researching this article I am sickened by what I learned.  First, consider the words spoken by Tatanka Yotanka (Sitting Bull) at the Powder River Council, 1877:

“Behold, my brothers, the spring has come; the earth has received the embraces of the sun and we shall soon see the results of that love! Every seed has awakened and so has all animal life. It is through this mysterious power that we too have our being and we therefore yield to our neighbors, even our animal neighbors, and the same right as ourselves, to inhabit this land. Yet hear me, my people, we have now to deal with another race – small and feeble when our fathers first met them, but now great and overbearing. Strangely enough they have a mind to till the soil and the love of possessions is a disease with them . . . They claim this mother of ours, the earth, for their own, and fence their neighbors away; they deface her with their buildings and their refuse. They threaten to take [the land] away from us. My brothers, shall we submit, or shall we say to them: ‘First kill me before you take possession of my Fatherland.’”

For the most part the history of the colonization of North America, as taught in schools, is riddled with omissions, lies and half-truths.  I couldn’t find anything specific regarding how the Dutch conducted themselves, but take a look at good old Christopher Columbus, hero, conqueror, intrepid explorer and friend to the crown of Spain.    When Columbus and his sailors came ashore the Arawak’s of the Bahamas Islands ran to greet them, brought them food, water, gifts. Columbus wrote of this in his log:

“They brought us parrots and balls of cotton and spears and many other things, which they exchanged for the glass beads and hawks’ bells. They willingly traded everything they owned…. They were well-built, with good bodies and handsome features…. They do not bear arms, and do not know them, for I showed them a sword, they took it by the edge and cut themselves out of ignorance. They have no iron. Their spears are made of cane…. They would make fine servants…. With fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we want.”

In another entry in his log, Columbus wrote:

“As soon as I arrived in the Indies, on the first Island which I found, I took some of the natives by force in order that they might learn and might give me information of whatever there is in these parts.”

Of course the “whatever there is in these parts” was gold that Columbus would trade for glass beads, in the name of the Spanish monarchy.  His description of the inhabitants tells the story:

“The Indians are so naive and so free with their possessions that no one who has not witnessed them would believe it. When you ask for something they have, they never say no. To the contrary, they offer to share with anyone….”

Here is a horrifying eye witness account of the Spaniards’ conduct by Barloeme de Las Casas:

“Their reason for killing and destroying such an infinite number of souls is that the Christians have an ultimate aim, which is to acquire gold, and to swell themselves with riches in a very brief time and thus rise to a high estate disproportionate to their merits. .. Spaniards have no more consideration for them than beasts. And I say this from my own knowledge of the acts I witnessed. But I should not say “than beasts” for, thanks be to God, they have treated beasts with some respect; I should say instead like excrement on the public squares. And thus they have deprived the Indians of their lives and souls, for the millions I mentioned have died without the Faith and without the benefit of the sacraments… never have the Indians in all the Indies committed any act against the Spanish Christians, until those Christians have first and many times committed countless cruel aggressions against them or against neighboring nations. For in the beginning the Indians regarded the Spaniards as angels from Heaven. Only after the Spaniards had used violence against them, killing, robbing, torturing, did the Indians ever rise up against them….”

Yet another report by Las Casas:

“They (the Spaniards) attacked the towns and spared neither the children nor the aged nor pregnant women nor women in childbed, not only stabbing them and dismembering them but cutting them to pieces as if dealing with sheep in the slaughter house. They laid bets as to who, with one stroke of the sword, could split a man in two or could cut off his head or spill out his entrails with a single stroke of the pike. They took infants from their mothers’ breasts, snatching them by the legs and pitching them headfirst against the crags or snatched them by the arms and threw them into the rivers, roaring with laughter and saying as the babies fell into the water, “Boil there, you offspring of the devil!” Other infants they put to the sword along with their mothers and anyone else who happened to be nearby. They made some low wide gallows on which the hanged victim’s feet almost touched the ground, stringing up their victims in lots of thirteen, in memory of Our Redeemer and His twelve Apostles, and then set burning wood at their feet and thus burned them alive.”

In the mid-eighties the media ramped up its coverage of Environmental issues and a thought started to form in the back of my mind.  If we do not heed the warnings we are being given, Mother Earth will be forced to use the mightiest weapon in her arsenal, extinction.  She will raise her oceans and give herself a cleansing and us a tsunamic slap to extinction.  We need the help of the Frist Nations people to undo the centuries of destruction.  I wonder what the face of the world would look like had we adopted the aboriginals’ ways instead of forcing our ways on them.  What if all the colonists had first encountered less passive tribes, like the Mayans or Incas and had just gone home?

William Commanda, Mamiwinini, Algonquin, Quebec, said:

“Traditional people of Indian nations have interpreted the two roads that face the light-skinned race as the road to technology and the road to spirituality. We feel that the road to technology…. has led modern society to a damaged and seared earth. Could it be that the road to technology represents a rush to destruction, and that the road to spirituality represents the slower path that the traditional native people have traveled and are now seeking again? The earth is not scorched on this trail. The grass is still growing there.”

An Unknown Wintu Woman, in the 19th Century, said:

“When we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots, we make little holes. When we build houses, we make little holes. When we burn grass for grasshoppers, we don’t ruin things. We shake down acorns and pine nuts. We don’t chop down the trees. We only use dead wood. But the white people plow up the ground, pull down the trees, kill everything. … the White people pay no attention. …How can the spirit of the earth like the White man? Everywhere the White man has touched it, it is sore.”

I can’t tell you how emotionally exhausting this research has been.  There are many more horror stories throughout the centuries, too many to mention in a thousand word article.  I’m left feeling hurt, shame, and empathy.  Hurt because my ancestors left such a terrible legacy, shame because I’m a light skinned colonist, and empathy for our First Nations people.  Mahatma Gandhi said, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”  I hope that in sharing this truth I am being that change.

References:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daniel_N._Paul

http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Wisdom/MourningDove.html

http://www.nativevillage.org/Libraries/Quotes/Native%20American%20Quotes%2019.htm

http://www.danielnpaul.com/index.html

http://www.danielnpaul.com/ChristopherColumbus.html

http://www.greatdreams.com/wisdom.htm

http://www.lauraleekharris.com/

 

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