Sepia Saturday 790 - 1000 Island Air

This week's prompt shows Gladys & Charlie (?) taking a rest during a (dusty?) motorcycle trip. Somehow, the picture reminds me of Bonny & Clyde. But that may be my unbridled imagination. Apart from the people, the other element in this picture is 'transport' (or 'transportation' if you like). As a former airline employee, transportation played a significant role in my life, particularly since my activities primarily involved the forwarding of cargo. However, during many (mostly service) trips, I acted as a passenger as well. I flew on many different aircraft types, the oldest being the Lockheed Electra II (KLM), the Caravelle (AF), and the Vickers Vanguard (AC). Altogether, I spent close to 500,000 miles in the air. Some of these aircraft trigger special memories. One of those is the de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver. What makes this aircraft special is that it is a float plane.

Two of our friends/colleagues were living in Belleville, ON, Canada. And in the fall of 2000, they invited us to visit them in Canada. So early October, my wife and I flew (on jump seats!) to Toronto and from there by car to Belleville, some 200 kilometres to the east. One of the (many) things they organised for us was a sightseeing flight over the St Lawrence and its many islands. It was going to be our first trip on a float plane, and I was looking forward to the experience! So we drove to Gananoque to meet with one Mr. Thomas Blackwell, President & CEO of 1000 Island Air. A little later, he also appeared to be the ticket clerk, the pilot, and the janitor of the airline.

Home base of 1000 Island Air

F.r.t.l. our friends the Haitsma's and we, before embarking
the DHC-2 Beaver with registration C-GBZH

Another 1000 Island Air Beaver (C-GEDL) is taking off

The 1000 Island Air Met-office
Weather conditions on Oct. 5, 2000

It was reassuring that our pilot added that the air was mostly smooth. And indeed, we hardly experienced any air pockets. The flight was very nice, and we had some beautiful views of the many islands, including splendid mansions built there. We also saw a couple of bridges. They served very well to identify afterwards where we had been.

The Canadian Thousand Islands Bridge - ON-137

The Thousand Islands Bridge on the US side - I-81

All in all, it was a very pleasant flight. In particular, taking off is quite an experience. I am used to take-offs from smooth, concrete surfaces, usually with speeds of close to 300 kilometres/hour. However, a float plane such as this one takes ages, it seems, before being airborne. And that is because the "ground speed" is far less than half that of conventional aircraft. Additionally, the surface is not as smooth as on a concrete runway.

After having made several other trips, a.o. to Algonquin Park, we returned to Amsterdam on October 8. The KLM B747-300 delivered us safe and sound at Schiphol Airport.

The end

Although I intended this post to end here, I was curious whether 1000 Island Air still existed. But the company seems to have disappeared, in thin air, so to speak. However, I did find something else, viz. the demise of my favorite aircraft. It appears that the de Havilland C-GBZH, the very same one we flew on, crashed in June last year.

The C-GBZH literally in Red Lake, ON, Canada, on June 16, 2024*

The crash report** reads:

"A float-equipped DHC-2 aircraft operated by Canadian Fly-in Fishing (Red Lake) Ltd. was departing the Chukuni River, ON, on a VFR flight to Thicketwood Lake, ON, with the pilot and four passengers.
The aircraft accelerated and lifted off as planned about halfway down the waterway (approximately 2500 feet downriver). As the aircraft gained airspeed to 80 mph, the pilot initiated a climb.
Once the climb was established at approximately 100 feet above water, the pilot reduced the engine power to 30 inches of manifold pressure at 2000 rpm. Along with this power change, the wing flaps were raised from the TAKEOFF position to the CLIMB position.
Shortly thereafter, the pilot noticed the aircraft descending, accompanied by a decrease in airspeed to 60 mph. The pilot pushed forward on the control wheel and simultaneously added full power in an attempt to regain airspeed.
The aircraft’s airspeed did not increase, and the pilot made a turn to the right, into the wind. At a height of approximately 80 feet above the water, the aircraft entered an aerodynamic stall, with a roll to the right. Aircraft control was lost and, at 0655, the aircraft collided with the shoreline in a nose-down, banked attitude. The aircraft came to rest on its left side, partially submerged in approximately 1.5 m of water, 5000 feet from the start of the take-off run."

At the time of the crash, there were five people on board, including the pilot. Unfortunately, one passenger did not survive the crash. 

The aircraft was built in 1963 and accumulated a total of 13,590.4 hours. Although the aircraft may seem old (61 years), it was properly maintained. Its age did not contribute to the cause of this crash. However, the maximum gross take-off weight was likely exceeded due to one passenger being significantly heavier than the average weight of the group to be carried that morning in June 2024. The group counted eight persons divided over two aircraft, with the overweight passenger being seated in the crashed aircraft. The loadsheet was calculated based on the average passenger weight...

Statisticians here say: the road to hell is paved with averages. And statisticians are always right, they say.

For more crashed memories, please visit my Sepia Saturday colleagues.

* Photo credit: NWOnewswatch.com

** Transportation Safety Board of Canada, Air Transportation Safety Investigation Report A24C0057 (released 05 June 2025). 

Sepia Saturday 782 - A street in IJmuiden

 

Just recently, I was reading a Dutch book about certain WW2 events. I am not going to discuss the book here, but the cover photo did attract my attention. It shows an almost deserted street, a couple of people, a lot of emptiness, snow, and two parked cars. In most books, there is some explanation about the cover photo on the inside. But not in this case. 

For one reason or another, the image intrigued me; it made a desolate impression. So I decided to try and find out more about it. It may be a coincidence, but in my view, there is a perfect match with this week's prompt: buildings, people, a street, and a couple of cars. But now, the cover photo.

Front cover 'The Velser Affair'

The title of the book refers to the name of a town/municipality in the province of North Holland. It is situated on the Dutch west coast, adjacent to the North Sea. So it will not be a wild guess to suspect that the photo was taken there. Let me first describe the things I see in this picture. But before I do that, the picture does not consist of the front only. It extends to both the spine and the back cover of the book.

The complete picture

A close look reveals details such as the words 'hotel restaurant' on the building to the left (near the A of Affaire) and 'pension' (boarding house) on the back cover, two cars of pre WW2 design, seemingly disappeared buildings on the left side of the street and there seems to be snow on the street and partially also on the sidewalk. The facade on the right, just below the eaves, has been decorated with a capital W. A magnifier reveals the registration on the licence plate: G-70647. It also looks like there are heaps of snow against the building at the end of the street (red arrow).

A closer look at the license plate and snow

Armed with this knowledge, I leafed through address books issued in the 20s and 30s of the previous century, looking for hotels in Velsen. I found most in IJmuiden, part of the municipality of Velsen. The site of the local historical society shows a number of old picture postcards. One of these cards portrays recognizable buildings.

Hotel Augusta in IJmuiden

Comparing the Augusta hotel building characteristics with the building on the cover, the similarities are evident. Also, W's on the opposite building are clearly visible. As can be seen on Google Street View, the building is still there.

Neptunusstraat corner Oranjestraat ex Google Street View

If you again compare the building characteristics, there can be no doubt, it is the hotel Augusta. The next question, of course, is, where does the cover photo come from? After consulting a number of image banks, that riddle is also solved. The regional archive of North Holland has the original in its collection.

The uncropped cover photo of the Oranjestraat (Orangestreet)

Usually, photographers do not permit their work to be modified. And that includes cropping. But according to the regional archive, the photographer is unknown 1). Therefore, the publisher apparently felt free to remove parts of the picture, both left and right. 

The archive dates this picture to be taken in 1945. And that is very well possible because the further side streets of the Oranjestraat, such as the Prins Hendrik- and the Kanaalstraat, have disappeared. Insofar as they were not sacrificed to create a field of fire for the German coastal defenses (Atlantic Wall), the houses in those streets were destroyed as a result of two Allied bombardments on March 26 and August 24, 1944. With so many German defenses, 'Fortress IJmuiden' was a popular target for the RAF. 

RAF aerial photo of IJmuiden, March 18, 1945 2)

The Oranjestraat area is in the red rectangle. The lighter area is where the bombarded houses were.

Assuming that indeed there is snow visible on the cover photo, the dating estimate can be more accurate. During the winter of 1945/46, there was hardly any snow in this part of the country. But a winter earlier, there was severe frost and serious snowfall in January 1945 (the Hunger Winter). In many places, it snowed for a long time; there is talk of 14 days with 40 cm of snow. If that is true for IJmuiden, then this photo must have been taken at the end of January, beginning of February 1945. And there is another reason why this picture may have been taken by the end of January.

As I mentioned earlier, the license plate of one of the cars can be deciphered. It is G-70647. The G indicates that the owner lives in North Holland. If this photo was indeed taken in early 1945, you can't help but wonder who would still be allowed to drive around in a car. It must be some notable. Fortunately, the regional archive has preserved the 'registers of registration certificates of motor vehicles'. And there we find the owner of this plate.

Jan Hendrik Emck, owner of the license plate G-70647

The registration is dated February 27, 1930. In those days, the plate number did not belong to a car but to an owner instead. So we can be certain that the car in the cover photo belongs to Mr. Emck. The address books mentioned earlier also reveal that Mr. Emck holds a high position in the provincial (state) electricity company. So he was important to the German occupation authorities. It is likely that, because of his position, he was allowed to drive a car.

Looking up the personal details of Jan Hendrik Emck, it appears that he was born on January 28, 1889. He passed away on November 5, 1945. So he died well before any snowfall, if any, during the winter of 1945/46. This fact also points to a possible date of the cover photo in January 1945. Fantasizing a little, we see Mr. Emck walking towards his car, returning from his birthday celebration in the hotel on January 28. Obviously, I don't know whether that holds true, but it certainly is a possibility!

The only thing left I am curious about is the make of the car. I am not a connoisseur, but also in this field there are specialists. They put my question on their site, and one of their members came up with the answer: it is a Ford Model 40, 1934. Personally, I think it is a beautiful design!

Ford Model 40, 1934 3)

Well, there may be more to tell about the cover photo - and there is! - but I challenge you to look for other discoveries on the site of Sepia Saturday first!

Notes

1) Source: Beeldbank Noord-Hollands Archief, 1098 - Beeldcollectie gemeente Velsen, inv.nr. 6687

2) Source: Een blik op bezet Nederland, luchtfoto's van de geallieerden, by G. Staal and R.P.G.A. Voskuil, blz. 22

3) Source: https://www.prewarcar.nl/552299-1934-ford-v8-model-40

Sepia Saturday 781 - Dating a photo

Harry Elk looks a bit sad or bored, but he is sitting at ease, as are the two people in the photo below. It is almost as if they are on display. But if you realize the length of shutter speeds in those days, people probably had to sit still for a considerable number of seconds. Shutter speeds of even 1/25th second were unheard of.

The two people with almost expressionless faces are two of my wife's ancestors. They are her paternal great-great-grandparents. Her name is Annechien Schroeder. She was born in Muntendam on August 25, 1839. Muntendam is situated in the Dutch northern province of Groningen. Today, Groningen is known -infamous is a better word- for the many relatively mild earthquakes caused by natural gas exploration.                                                                                                                       Her husband, Homme Venema, was born in Zuidlaren on September 21, 1838. Although it is in a different province (Drenthe), it is only miles away from Muntendam. They got married in nearby Veendam on December 28, 1861.

Annechien Schroeder and Homme Venema

The couple had nine children, of whom, surprisingly for those days, only two died before reaching the age of 5. Possibly, they inherited strong genes from their parents. Annechien reached the age of 80, and Homme, a proper Groningen name, surpassed her by two years.

I always find it rather difficult to estimate people's ages from these old photographs. But fortunately, two things may give a clue as to when this picture was made. The first time indicator is the dimensions of this so-called cabinet image. It measures 10.7 x 16.5 cms, which, according to an expert in these matters, Belgian Peter Eyckerman, is significant for the period between 1866 and 1914. Then, there is the name of the photographer at the bottom right-hand corner.

G. Folkerts Stadskanaal

In the Netherlands, we are blessed with the availability of a reference book showing most photographers born here in the 19th century.  Also, our Geert Folkerts is mentioned. He was born on August 11, 1875, and had a studio in Stadskanaal between 1900 and the day he died on July 4, 1916. So it is safe to say that Homme and Annechien went to the studio sometime during the 1900-1914 period. And that puts their age in the 61-75 years bracket.

We'll probably never know why they had their picture taken, but it could very well be because of a special occasion, such as the celebration of their 40-year marriage in 1901. A newspaper ad shows the married couple's gratitude for the interest shown by their community.

Source: Nieuwe Veendammer Courant, Dec. 28, 1901

We would like to express our sincere thanks 

for the many expressions of interest 

on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of our marriage.

Although I know very little about this couple's life, I know Homme was a farmhand. Certainly, in those days and in that part of the country, that was almost a guarantee for a poor life. The photograph radiates the life they led; there are no symbols of any wealth or social status.

Two years before their marriage, Homme was involved in a quarrel. He stabbed farmhand Hendrik van Dalen on the property of landowner Harmannus Bulle. He was prosecuted for his behaviour, and the verdict briefly summarizes the hearing.

"Considering that from the investigation at the court session of 16 November 1859, under the summons, it has been legally and convincingly established that the defendant, on Thursday 20 October 1859, on a field belonging to H. Bulle at Zuidlaarderveen, deliberately and violently assaulted Hendrik van Dalen, struck him, and wounded him with a knife."

"The deputy public prosecutor demands a custodial prison sentence of six months, a fine of 8 guilders, and the costs of the proceedings, recoverable using coercive detention."

"Administering justice in the name of the King,
the court sentences Homme Venema to a prison term of six weeks in a house of correction, to be served in solitary confinement, a monetary fine of eight guilders, and to pay the legal costs, assessed at the sum of ten guilders and 80.5 cents, with both the fine and costs, if necessary, to be recovered by coercive detention."

The sentence was published in a local newspaper.

Source: Provinciale Drentsche en Asser Courant, Nov. 24, 1859

To put the 8 guilder fine in perspective, a labourer's wages varied by the season. In summer, they made something like a guilder a day; during wintertime, it was less: approximately 60 guilder cents. So the fine amounted to over a week's income (in summer)! And obviously, there was no income while in prison for 6 weeks. At the time, Homme fortunately was still a bachelor.

The other thing that struck me was the difference between the prosecutor's demand - 6 months in prison - and the final verdict, 6 weeks. The documentation does not reveal why this is.

All in all, I feel we are lucky to know what our ancestors, born in the first half of the 19th century, looked like. For more discoveries, please see the Sepia Saturday site.

Sepia Saturday 777 - The radio

 

A little over 10 years ago, I wrote a blog so appropriate to this week's prompt that I cannot resist referring to that post again. Please click the link below to discover the truth about the birth of the BBC ;-) https://patmcast.blogspot.com/2014/11/why-bbc-came-into-being.html.

For more revelations, please see the Sepia Saturday site.

Sepia Saturday 771 - Cameras

The prompt of this week reminded me of my early photographic equipment. I remember a simple mirror reflex camera and a movie camera to record our kids' first steps. Since I do not remember discarding them, I started a search in several dark places. And yes, finally, I discovered the subjects of my search among the contents of a dusty cardboard box! It almost brought tears to my eyes. I had not seen them for years. These two cameras recorded our early family life. I am talking about the sixties. In those days, slides were popular, possibly because prints were more expensive? But before slides came into fashion, all our prints were in black and white. Developing those was not my cup of tea. I delivered the film to a nearby camera shop, which then forwarded it to a lab. And then, after waiting a week or so, the prints were ready to be picked up. Finally, you could see the result of your creativity. 

Exa IIb

Apart from an Agfa Clack (or was it the Agfa Box?), this Exa II b was my first 'real' camera. It was intended for 35 mm roll film with 24 or 36 exposures. It was manufactured by Ihagee in Dresden, which is situated in the former DDR (East Germany).  The lenses were interchangeable. Mine was a Jena 1:2,8 lens.

Exa II b with 50 mm Jena lens

At the time, this camera was also exported to the USA. Those models were engraved with the text 'Soviet occupied Germany'. Some habits never change...

I forgot what I paid for my Exa camera. But I do remember the price of the movie camera. It was $ 16,99! The camera was a Japanese product by the name of Hymart. I bought it in a small shop on Broadway, N.Y., during my second service trip for KLM to the USA, early October 1969.

Hymart Super 8 movie camera

I remember the main reason I bought this camera was because of the pistol grip. So the design was fine, but I also recollect that at the time, I experienced the purchase of film as rather expensive. 

Inside my Japanese Hymart

If my memory serves me right, a Kodak Super 8 film pack cost about 50% more than a 36-exposure slide film, also Kodak. But seeing the kids moving on a screen was priceless! 

The difference between these two analog cameras and their today's digital counterparts, is enormous! And I am not talking about making calls with your camera. Nobody thinks twice about that. But if you compare the performance of the lenses, especially in circumstances with bad or no light at all, there is a difference of night and day (no pun intended). 

In any case, I am glad I did not discard both oldies. Maybe, one day, my great-grandchildren will find the box with these two cameras and wonder what they are.

For more wonderful finds, please check the Sepia Saturday site.

Sepia Saturday 763 - Military Music

 Although the prompt picture shows a Beatle-like group of boys (in the sixties?), my contribution this week goes back. The album I referred to in my previous post shows photos made during the mobilization in Holland during the 1939/1940 period. The photographer was Karel Morren, my mother's life companion from the sixties. He served in an infantry regiment. His unit was transferred from The Hague to Arkel, a small village in the eastern part of South Holland, one of the twelve Dutch provinces. Karel was a troop sergeant. I doubt whether he was involved in any fights during the early days of the war. Most pictures show him during kitchen-related activities. The image below puts him amidst cooks. Karel is the man with the spectacles in the back row. Judging by the looks on their faces, the war was still far away.

The kitchen staff in The Hague in the 2nd half of 1939

Apparently, the regiment also had musicians in its ranks. They are shown below. I believe they are trumpeters but I am not a connoisseur. So I stand to be corrected (thank you, Mike!).  

A pre-war version of 'Blowing in the wind' maybe?

The sound of trumpets...

A musical welcome upon arrival in Arkel
In the background probably the river Linge

To demonstrate that military life did not consist of eating and playing music only, below the regiment howitzers.

The horse-drawn 10.5 cm/4 inch howitzers

Unfortunately, I don't know the exact unit Karel served in. For that, I have to go to the National Archive in The Hague. There I can have a look at Karels military records. But I suspect he served in the 28th Battalion Veld 6. That unit was part of an infantry regiment. Whether the military orchestra was part of that regiment as well, I don't know either. Whenever I find out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, have a look at the Sepia Saturday site for more musical intermezzos. 

Sepia Saturday 759 - The Minankabau House

Finding a picture of a man in front of a house is a real shoebox challenge, for me at least. But just before reaching the bottom of the box, I ran into a photo showing a childhood memory. When I went to primary school all pupils had their own garden. It was a plot of land measuring approx. 9 x 9 ft. where we grew flowers, potatoes, and vegetables and learned about biology. Very educational! But that was not the main reason why this garden complex was etched in my memory. That was the house that was built there. It was called the Minankabau house. As you can see it does not come close to the traditional Dutch stepped gables. In fact, the house originates in what before WWII was called the Dutch East Indies, today Indonesia. To find the true origin of the house, we have to go to the island of Sumatra. There the Minankabau people originate. Without trying to write an anthropological report, I want to highlight one aspect of the Minankabau society. Whether you like it or not, our culture is based on patriarchal structures. Not so the Minankabau. Land, property, and the family name pass down from mother to daughter. (Matters such as politics are left to men.) So it is not unlikely that the house in the photo below was sold by a Minankabau woman to a Dutch enterprise.

The Minankabau house on the Mient in The Hague
during the winter of 1939/1940

The picture comes from an album owned by A.K.J. (Karel) Morren (1906-1988), the man my mother lived with from 1967 until he passed away. I have no idea who the person with the broom/snow plow is. He or she is standing amidst the school gardens I mentioned earlier. It needs a bit of imagination,  but it can be said that he or she is standing in front of a house thus complying with this week's theme ;-)

The postcard below shows the same complex in 1935 but from the opposite direction. The Minankabau house is on the right.

To give you a better impression of these houses' beauty, below is a fine example situated in the village of Pandai Sikek, West Sumatra, Indonesia.

By Michael J. Lowe, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org

Please turn to the Sepia Saturday site for more (unknown) men in front of mysterious houses.

Sepia Saturday 755 - Celebrations

To the best of my knowledge, we don't have any Cinderellas in the family, nor am I aware of any aunts or nieces wearing glass slippers or fancy dresses. So, it is difficult to relate this week's theme to my shoebox full of family pictures.

Still, it is an interesting image. It looks like a photoshopped picture avant la lettre of drawn clothing with real human heads on top. It is supposed to have been printed around 1890 which makes it special.

Now, how do I relate this picture to my shoebox? When I looked closer, I saw that some people displayed a (family?) coat of arms on their clothing.

And that reminded me of the coat of arms belonging to my maternal grandmother's family. Grandma's  last name is Doelman. Today the literal translation of that name is goalkeeper. But the family records go back to the 16th century and in those days the word doelen referred to a shooting range, a place where the local military practised. So it could very well be that Grandma's ancestors were the proprietors of the shooting range. But that is sheer speculation.

Coat of arms Doelman

It is unknown whether the family already had the coat of arms as early as the 16th century. However, elements such as the lion already adorned a Doelman family crest in the late sixteen hundreds.

Coat of arms belonging to Cornelis
Michielsz Doelman approx. 1566

It is a common misunderstanding that having a family crest means that one is of noble descent. In many cases that is correct. But also prominent families high on the social ladder often had one. I assume Grandma's family qualified because they had important positions in the city of Delft. Of one thing I am certain. Although Grandma was fond of fancy dresses, she never wore any glass slippers, not even during the Christmas season.

For more fairy tales please turn to the last Sepia Saturday of the year 2024.

Sepia Saturday 750 - New arrivals

I feel there can't be any new arrivals without preceding departures. And sometimes new arrivals are not yet visible. Why these somewhat puzzling starting sentences? Well, I'll be honest. I have been looking in my albums and folders, and I can't find any inspiring pictures. So I have been looking for a backdoor to write a post that meets this month's theme. I hope I haven't strayed too far.                              My first picture shows a family on the verge of checking in for a departing KLM flight to New York Idlewild on April 24, 1947. I wrote about the Vander Dussen family before. Father Sybrand was a Rotterdam milkman with 11 children. He decided to emigrate to the USA and they developed an impressive dairy business in Southern California a.o. in Chino and Corona. Today, the family has over 300 members, and some moved to other states to start a dairy business there.

The Vander Dussens checking in at Amsterdam Schiphol
airport for their departure to the USA

The picture shows Mr. and Mrs. Sybrand Vander Dussen and nine children. Their baby twins in cradles were in the hands of stewardesses. In most of my photos of the family, father Sybrand is smoking a cigarette, not unusual in those days. If you have a closer look at the image below, taken over a decade earlier, you'll also notice a cigarette in the hands of all four men. In those days smoking was regarded as fashionable. Nobody knew or cared about the hazards, least of all the tobacco industry itself. Tobacco addiction was not something doctors spoke about. Why this attention to a few strands of smoking tobacco? Well, it is just to connect to another departure.

KLM aircrew before departure to Batavia on December, 18. 1933
F.l.t.r. Capt. Smirnoff, Soer, Grosveld, Van Beukering

Today it is out of the question that you see an aircrew posing on the ramp in front of an aircraft, each with a smoking cigarette. But at the time (1933) the rules and regulations apparently differed, if any. The idea behind this legendary (in The Netherlands) flight was to reach Batavia, today's Djakarta, in the (then) Dutch East Indies in record time to deliver the Christmas mail. The aircraft was a Fokker F-XVIII named 'Pelikaan' (Pelican), with registration PH-AIP. Many KLM aircraft at the time bore the names of birds. The crew managed to reach Batavia in four days! Today there is a non-stop flight covering the 7093 miles in 15 hours. The times they are a-changin'. 

The return trip in 1933 took a few minutes less, and the operation was a national event. Some 20,000 people came to Amsterdam Schiphol Airport to celebrate the arrival of the Pelikaan on New Year's Eve.

No cigarettes in the last picture nor is the new arrival visible.

Wedding of Cornelis Doelman (6) and Lea Libert (7)
in Cruyshoutem (B) on July 4, 1921

Our (Dutch) family has several ties with Belgium. My own roots are in Kuringen which today is Hasselt in Belgian Limburg. The brother [6] of my maternal grandmother married Belgian Lea Eulalia Hortensia Libert [7], one of the most poetic names in the family. She was from Cruyshoutem in East Flanders.

Marriage certificate Doelman x Libert

Under normal circumstances, the sister of the groom, my grandmother, should have been at the wedding. But she wasn't. However, my grandfather made his appearance there. His name was Gerardus Theodorus de Langen and he is number 9 in this serious-looking company. The reason Grandma wasn't present was that she was about to give birth to my mother's sister a couple of weeks later. So I can imagine that traveling from The Hague to Belgium v.v. was not her favorite pastime then. This new arrival was baptized Theodora Gerarda, how imaginative! But in those days, naming your child after a parent or grandparent was standard practice.

Anyway, it explains why the new arrival can't be seen in this picture. And even if Grandma would have been present ..., well, you understand.

This completes my post with new arrivals. My stock of arrivals is exhausted so this is it! But I'm sure there are more on Sepia Saturday

Sepia Saturday 741 - Highs & Lows

When I look at a new SS theme, I usually have an idea of which pictures from the family archive I could use.  But not this time. Fortunately, Alan provided an escape (as he always does). He mentions "a couple of Alpine skiers from almost a century ago, feeling high on the top of a mountain".

I am not a skiing man myself nor do we have mountains in Holland. The highest "mountain" here is a hill called the Vaalserberg in the province of Limburg; it is a little over 300 meters high. Not exactly the type of mountain when you plan to go out skiing. But there is a picture of my grandfather Andreas Miebies (1883-1957) standing in the dunes near The Hague. It was taken over a century ago, during the second part of WW One when he was mobilized. We see him here standing on the very right. His rank is that of sergeant and he is the commanding officer of this group of soldiers serving in the 47th Landweer batallion Hunters (Jagers).

A section of infantry troops belonging to the 47th batallion Hunters
with Sgt. Andreas Miebies on the very right

The rifles you see are the Austrian .256 Manlicher M.95. It was manufactured 

under license in The Netherlands by the Hembrug weapon factory in Zaandam. 

It has been in use until after WW Two.

Manlicher M.95

When my grandparents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary, their oldest 

son, my father, put together a kind of PowerPoint presentation avant la lettre. 

For that purpose, he made several drawings and stitched them onto a fabric roll. 

On the drawing below he drew himself shortly after his birth on his father's lap 

with Grandma still in bed. At the time, my dad was born in August 1914, 

Granddad apparently served already in the army as the Manlicher rifle was up 

against the wall and his uniform on the chair.

At the beginning of WW Two, the Dutch army Manlichers were confiscated and 

used by the Germans. So it is not impossible that just a few days before the end of 

WW Two, my father and his comrades were shot by Dutch Manlichers in the 

hands of Germans...

Like the drawing, the picture of the military in the dunes was also part of the presentation my father made for his parents. Readers with sharp eyes will 

be able to see the stitch holes on the top side of the photograph.

If you want to see how other Sepians interpreted this month's theme, go to the

Sepia Saturday site and enjoy yourself!