stories

Mom & dad had (and still have) many stories about their lives in Europe.

Mom had one about why her pinkie fingernail on her left hand wasn't a regular fingernail but a gimpy one. When she was just a baby, there had been an explosion near their house (the one pictured in the previous post). As she was just a baby, she's not sure if it was from WW1 or if something else was going on, but anyways, it blew out the window in the room where she lay in the crib. She was very lucky... the only bit of glass that touched her was a tiny sliver that cut the base of the fingernail on the 1 finger!

Both had many stories about WW2.

Mom fled from Germany and briefly even went as far as Belgium to escape the Nazi's (as per previous note - she had Jewish blood in her background). She remembered when she was in the basement of a building with some other people, while bombs were falling. They were all getting hungry, but they were too afraid to go upstairs. Finally mom went up and found a few potatoes and baked them in the oven - one of the few things that still worked in what was left of the kitchen. At least one of the falling bombs had hit the house!

Dad, meanwhile, was busy dodging the Nazi's, too. He would make his rounds on his bike with a big basket. Many of our relatives in the Netherlands had farms, so he would go from farm to farm, picking up flour that he would take to the bakers in return for coupons for bread, picking up eggs and milk and cheese and whatever veggies where available, until the large basket on his bike was loaded, and then heading home with the goods.
One time on his route, he came across a Nazi checkpoint. There was no way around it. He could see an older fellow on a bike ahead of him that they had stopped. They beat the man and chased him away after confiscating his bike and anything else he had.
Dad was just a teenager and was frightened, but what could he do? There was no way to go around them without making them suspicious. So he peddled up to them as nonchalantly as possible. They stopped him and asked what was in his basket. He decided to tell them the truth - hoping to at the very least avoid a beating. "Several dozen eggs, loaves of bread...." they didn't believe him and told him to beat it!
"And the truth shall set you free" - indeed!!!!

And further back yet...

On my dad's side, the Houben's have lived in Sevenum, Limberg since the 1400's, and of course in the surrounding area's as well.

Above are some of the houses Houben's have lived in over the years.

On my mom's side, Konrad's family is German, while Auguste Tepper's family is half German, half Danish. I believe her father Wilhelm Tepper owned a factory in Denmark... but I'm rather vague on the details. If I can get dad to remember any of the bits I will add them in a later posting.

Of the Great Grandparents I only have 1 photo to share at this time and that is of Auguste Teelen, mom's grandma on her mom's side.

Aagghh!

Oops! Oh well, I guess I have some catching up to do. Now that dad is home from the hospital, I don't have to go into town on my days off & can play a bit more. So on Sunday I will post a few more bits.... this post doesn't count towards the 52 I'm trying for.