Although Piet van den Nieuwenhof and Jack van Gorkom both grew up in the small Dutch city of Dordrecht, they only met when they came to work together at the Secretarie der Gemeente Dordrecht (Town Clerk's Office of the Council of Dordrecht) in September 1941. Solid evidence of this period that they served together are the identical references that they received afterwards, which can be found in the section with documents on this website. But until this Town Clerk's Office they had lived their lives in very different worlds, as Jack was a Protestant and Piet a Roman-Catholic.
Piet van den Nieuwenhof was a year older than Jack, born in Dordrecht on 8th April 1920. His family, however, was from Geldrop and Nuenen. These are neighbouring villages in the East of the province of Noord-Brabant, not very far from the Dutch-Belgium border. Just like Belgium, Noord-Brabant is mainly Roman Catholic, certainly in the days that Piet was born. The roots of the family lie in Nuenen, where Piet's forefathers were farmers. As Piet wrote in his memoires called The Naked Globe (2008):
Apart from the poetic license, the ages of Vincent van Gogh and Piet's grandmother must have matched quite nicely: Vincent was born in March 1853, while grandmother Maria Kennis was born in July 1852. The parents of Piet's grandfather lived in Geldrop then, but an uncle and aunt of his grandfather still lived on the family farm in Nuenen, also in the two years that Vincent van Gogh spent over there. Forty years later, Piet's parents went to live in Geldrop as well:
Uprooted lives
Jack van Gorkom came from an absolutely Calvinist background. His father's family was from Utrecht, where the Protestant roots of the van Gorkom family can be traced back to at least 1600, so nearly the beginning of Calvinism. His mother—and that's a thing he had in common with Piet—was from the very Calvinist province of Zeeland. His place of birth was Weltevreden—an enclave near Batavia, nowadays Djakarta, in the days that Indonesia was a Dutch colony called Nederlands Oost-Indië (Dutch East Indies). His date of birth was 2nd February 1921. Jack's father served in the K.N.I.L. (Royal Dutch Indian Army) as head of the joinery workshop in Batavia, where they would look after much of the infantry material, which was mainly made of wood in those days. On 28 November 1926, Jack was baptized in the Evangelische Gemeente (Evangelical Congregation) of Batavia. A year later the family returned to Holland, and eventually they ended up in Dordrecht, which was more or less by coincidence as they had no historical ties to this city.Piet van den Nieuwenhof was a year older than Jack, born in Dordrecht on 8th April 1920. His family, however, was from Geldrop and Nuenen. These are neighbouring villages in the East of the province of Noord-Brabant, not very far from the Dutch-Belgium border. Just like Belgium, Noord-Brabant is mainly Roman Catholic, certainly in the days that Piet was born. The roots of the family lie in Nuenen, where Piet's forefathers were farmers. As Piet wrote in his memoires called The Naked Globe (2008):
"The van den Nieuwenhof farm was next door to the Protestant church in Nuenen, where Vincent van Gogh's father was the Calvinist minister. Vincent's studio was in the garden of the presbytery and when he looked out of the window he could see the van den Nieuwenhof potato farm. Some of Vincent's paintings feature the van den Nieuwenhof farm, e.g. "The potato diggers". Grandmother was a very social minded person and liked conversations, so often she saw Vincent in the backyard and had a bit of know-how with him, especially when he was in one of his depressions. She became a sort of confidante to him, maybe she overdid and it was too much for Vincent, because he left Nuenen."
Apart from the poetic license, the ages of Vincent van Gogh and Piet's grandmother must have matched quite nicely: Vincent was born in March 1853, while grandmother Maria Kennis was born in July 1852. The parents of Piet's grandfather lived in Geldrop then, but an uncle and aunt of his grandfather still lived on the family farm in Nuenen, also in the two years that Vincent van Gogh spent over there. Forty years later, Piet's parents went to live in Geldrop as well:
"In 1923, the family moved [from Dordrecht] to Geldrop where my father started a bus service between Geldrop and Eindhoven. The company was called E.G.A.D. (Eerste Geldropse Autobus Dienst, meaning First Geldrop Bus Service) and the first bus was a T-model Ford, which had to be cranked up to start every time to get it going, which was a hassle during the winter. Starters were not yet invented and before the engine could be cranked up, the spark-plugs had to be taken out and warmed up. If that did not work, local kids were engaged to push the bus till it started. As a reward they could hop in and get a ride around the block.
Due to the ill health of my mother and a growing family it was decided that I would live with my grandmother and aunt in Dordrecht. So at the tender age of 5 I left home, albeit temporarily, to face the cruel world. My mother was not too happy with that arrangement, the more because the relationship between her and my grandmother was very tense. Grandma was more Catholic than the Pope and my mother being a convert made her, in the eyes of my grandmother, a second class catholic so there was always friction. Just to show how Catholic grandma was, on my fifth or sixth birthday she gave me a miniature altar complete with vestments, missal etc. I had to say mass and give a sermon in which I always threatened them with hell like the Redemptorists used to do.
3 or 4 years later my mother missed me and wanted me back home in Geldrop, so for the next three years I was home and attended the Public School in the village, which was, at least for me comparable to being sent to the centre of Outer Mongolia.
A newcomer in the village, not in the particular dialect group, was always an outsider. My father was known as Henk "The Hollander" because he had a Dordrecht accent. He wore shoes and sometimes a bowtie. Clogs and overalls were the fashion of the day at that time in Geldrop.
What made life hard for me was the fact that we did not belong to the typical Geldrop community. The majority of the people were textile workers. In 1932 there were 9 textile factories, and about 5 other industries in Geldrop. Those not employed in the textile and other industries were small landowners, grocers, bakers and other shopkeepers. My father was none of those, he was a different kind of businessman and did not fit in the socio-economic level of his neighbours. These were the differences that made integration a bit of a problem.
Me being a son of Henk (thank God his name was not Sam) not speaking the dialect and the only one wearing shoes, not clogs, made me a target for ridicule at the local school and this was encouraged by a teacher, who did not like my family. This particular teacher was such a nasty character that I often queried his ancestry."
Due to the ill health of my mother and a growing family it was decided that I would live with my grandmother and aunt in Dordrecht. So at the tender age of 5 I left home, albeit temporarily, to face the cruel world. My mother was not too happy with that arrangement, the more because the relationship between her and my grandmother was very tense. Grandma was more Catholic than the Pope and my mother being a convert made her, in the eyes of my grandmother, a second class catholic so there was always friction. Just to show how Catholic grandma was, on my fifth or sixth birthday she gave me a miniature altar complete with vestments, missal etc. I had to say mass and give a sermon in which I always threatened them with hell like the Redemptorists used to do.
3 or 4 years later my mother missed me and wanted me back home in Geldrop, so for the next three years I was home and attended the Public School in the village, which was, at least for me comparable to being sent to the centre of Outer Mongolia.
A newcomer in the village, not in the particular dialect group, was always an outsider. My father was known as Henk "The Hollander" because he had a Dordrecht accent. He wore shoes and sometimes a bowtie. Clogs and overalls were the fashion of the day at that time in Geldrop.
What made life hard for me was the fact that we did not belong to the typical Geldrop community. The majority of the people were textile workers. In 1932 there were 9 textile factories, and about 5 other industries in Geldrop. Those not employed in the textile and other industries were small landowners, grocers, bakers and other shopkeepers. My father was none of those, he was a different kind of businessman and did not fit in the socio-economic level of his neighbours. These were the differences that made integration a bit of a problem.
Me being a son of Henk (thank God his name was not Sam) not speaking the dialect and the only one wearing shoes, not clogs, made me a target for ridicule at the local school and this was encouraged by a teacher, who did not like my family. This particular teacher was such a nasty character that I often queried his ancestry."
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