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Wednesday, April 1, 2009 Orono Weekly Times - 9 "The Kist" by Myno Van Dyke When I retired a few years ago, one of the first promises I made was to clean up the garage and the small barn we have out back. In order to clean out the garage, I needed a place to put things - which would be the barn. So, the first job was to clean up the barn. I went there and started moving wheels, tires, aluminum lawn chair frames and some old bikes the kids used to have. Under this pile I found two small wooden chairs. A lump suddenly came into my throat. These were the chairs made by my fatherfrom "The Kist." If you were a Dutch immigrant, you will immediately know the significance of that little four-letter word. I was born in the village of St. Anna Parochie, in the Province of Friesland in The Netherlands. My father, Marten Van Dijk, was a potato farmer there. He worked for his father and his uncle, while my mother, Sytske was a homemaker. The Second World War was very hard on my parents. My Dad, a soldier, was home on leave and their home had no heat. Late one night, he and a friend went out to the back of their farm and cut down an old dead tree so they could warm up the house. On the way back they were arrested by the Germans for violating the curfew and cutting down a tree on his own farm. He was jailed and then sent to a "work camp" in Belgium for 14 months. My mother, according to the Germans, looked Jewish. They would consistently stop her and ask why she was not wearing the required "Star of David." Often, she and her twin sister had to hide when the German soldiers were around. After the war, the country was in bad shape. There were too many people and not enough ways to make a living. The Dutch Government sponsored an immigration program with several countries. One of them was Canada. My parents would hear about the others who immigrated to "The Land of Milk and Honey" as they called it. These recent immigrants would send letters back to their families, and of course it was usually very positive. No one would want to admit that they made a mistake, but most appeared to have settled into Canadian life quite well. They needed farm help in Canada and there were plenty of takers. My parents decided they would go too. It was really quite easy. You didn't need any money -- the Dutch Government and the Canadian sponsor would look after your passage. All you had to do was go through the mountain of red tape and get on the boat. There was one expense, the "kist." photo supplied The Van Dyke's shipping trunk "the kist" was later used for a chicken coop and then made into these two children's chairs. Our "kist" was a large wooden box about 3 metres long, two metres high and two-and-a-half metres wide, that would contain all of your worldly possessions. This box would arrive about two weeks after the immigrant. The "kist" weighted 580 kg. and my father paid 319.15 (Guilders) to have our possessions shipped to Canada. On March 15, 1951, The "kist," my parents, with twenty-five Canadian dollars, my oneyear-old sister and my fiveyear-old self were on an old former troop carrier named The Volendam, sailing for Canada. There was a total of 1540 passengers on the ship. We left amid a sea of tears from our family. "We will never see them again" was a common refrain. By the way, no one else in our family immigrated anywhere. The Volendam was launched on July 6th, 1922 and began her maiden voyage (Rotterdam to New York) on KIST see page 16