MY STAY IN EPE, HOLLAND.

OUR STAY IN EPE

It was a beautiful summer in 1950. I was 16 years old and went for a 10 days stay to my aunt Jo, my mother’s concentration camp friend, who in camp Solo was next to us with her son Adriaan. So I tease is wife, that I slept first with him. But to tell you, the truth is that he was younger and he was always teasing me together with my terrible brother My aunt lived in Epe on the Dellenweg, a road through the country with a house here and there, very lonely, completely at the outskirts. It even looked like Indonesia. A forest with trees everywhere and bushes, here and there a hidden house. At the very end a sandy path and then the beautiful heather. She lived almost at the end of this area near the heather. Fortunately, her house was one of two under one roof, each with its own area of forest. From the street a gravel road led to the front door and aside of her forest, a sandy path led to the garage.
It really was a lovely house of the thirties with deep basement, joining rooms with doors opening to the terrace. From the terrace you couldn’t see the street nor the neighbours due to all the trees, bushes and pine trees. Her house was beautifully decorated with lovely Indonesian furniture and lots of silver from Djokja. We cozily drank tea on the terrace. I unpacked my suitcase in the nice room with a view at the garden. At two o’clock the telephone rang, a totally shaken aunt Jo, told that her youngest sister had fallen and broken her leg and was being operated. There was no one to take over the leading of the pension in Bergen-binnen. Before I knew it aunt Jo left with her suitcase to Bergen-binnen. You’ll be fine, huh child, I will call you. Ex concentration camp people always have plenty to eat at home. Everything was packed, the basement was full with food and the fridge was filled, so there was no problem. It was deadly silent after she left. There I was all alone in Epe in the middle of nowhere with out knowing anybody, I felt very awfull. After listening to the radio for a couple of hours and hearing that bad weather was forecasted, I made something to eat for myself. There were meatballs ready in the casserole. I listened to the radio again hearing the forecast for heavy rains and heavy wind, etc. At 10 o’clock I went to bed. At midnight I sat straight on my bed. A terrible storm had erupted with thunder and lightning. It was so fierce that it scared the daylight out of me and I went shivering downstairs. I couldn’t find the light switch in the pitch dark room. The heavy curtains were closed. My parents were on holiday, I couldn’t call anyone it was 1950 and didn’t know what to do. Finally I found a light and sat there shivering. Flashing lights, thunder and lightning and suddenly heavy rain. My light went out, the power was gone. I didn’t know where the candles were and heard strange noises everywhere; cracking sounds and flapping of things. I searched for the telephone in the hallway and for the directory, I had to find someone to speak to.
Then suddenly the doorbell, I stood frozen, who could that be, my immagination hiting stampede. There was a small window in the door and I looked through it, seeing a big man with a raincoat and an umbrella. He turned around and pointed at the door. It took me sometime before I dared open it because I was afraid. The man came inside and said: “child, you must have been very frightened here all by yourself, please don’t be afraid now”. I am the neighbour and will sit with you until the worst is over”.
First he put in new fuses and turned on all the lights, then he made us a cup of tea and sat with me. The weather hasn’t been this bad in years, he said.
I estimated him about 70 years. He saw that I was still upset. He told me that aunt Jo went to see him before she left and that he was a retired headmaster of a primary school in Rotterdam and that he lived next door with his wife, who was older than him. Before we knew it, it was 02.00 a.m. and after checking everything again he went home.
Thanks, to this dear teacher I had a very nice time at the Dellenweg. Every morning he came to drink coffee with me on the terrace and we talked about all sorts of things. In the afternoon we went for a walk and he told stories about every bird, every tree and every bush we saw. In the evening he also came often for a couple of hours to keep me company on the terrace, while embroidering beautiful tablecloths. He radiated a serenity I had never experienced with anyone before nor after. During all this time, he also took care of his wife, who was ill. This wise man is never completely disappeared from my mind, nor the things he taught me. When aunt Jo came back after a week she found a clean house and a cheerful and happy teenager.
Dinkie