Dutch and German Immigrants The Prins Family - Pier 21

hard and there I hung suspended between boat and wall. A loud andscared yell alerted Uncle Jack, he grabbed me and pulled me up ontosolid ground. I often went for an overnight stay on the boat with him.In a big family like the Prins’ there are always some people you feel morein tune with than others and I had the most rapport with Uncle Jack.Especially after my dad was killed I relied quite a bit on him when I hadproblems and he really became a second dad to me. He alwaysencouraged me to do things and especially when I thought aboutemigrating to Canada he told me not to be scared. If I didn’t like it orcouldn’t get used to it, I always could come back, there was no dishonourin that!To avoid confusion when one of the Jack’s were wanted I became smallJace (kleine Jack) and Uncle Jack became big Jack (grote Jack). Thisdistinction lasted through the years and finally ended when Uncle Jackpassed away in 1989. I never minded to be called by that name but Kininever liked it.Once, (I don’t know exactly when anymore), Oma and Opa Prins andKlaar (Oma’s only brother) had an argument in the kitchen. To keep itfrom the rest of us, the door from the hallway to the kitchen was closed,but everyone who was home was listening in the hallway, because it wassuch a rare occasion for that to happen. Oma was heard saying to Opa(her husband!) to stay out of it as he was only allied to the family bymarriage!With Opa Prins, I was always intrigued by the way his little right handfinger was bent as a shepherd’s crook. He told me this was the result ofhis fishnet knitting days. An expression, I still use myself once in awhile, comes from Oma Prins; she used to serve custard with blackberryjuice or in her way of pronouncing it in the Egmond dialect 'braamtenat'.Like every child in Holland you were taught to ride the bike at a youngage. The task to teach me fell on Klaar and here we went to theHavenkade in front of the local cemetery. Mounting and dismounting,going fast, going slow, till I mastered the art of riding a bike. Until thisday I still ask myself why he chose to teach me in front of the cemetery!A bit of cemetery history follows.The use of houses to pull the hearse was an old tradition and was basedupon regional customs. These traditions differed from region to regionand depended on the prevailing religion in that region. But one thingwas the same; black horses were used to pull the hearse.