27 About Andrew, Jenny, Suzanne, Timothy — cameos from their earlier years.

27 <> About Andrew, Jenny, Suzanne, Timothy — cameos from their earlier years.

During these years times were passing for us as a family. The children were each in turn passing through school — up to Standard 5 at Sweet Valley Primary School and then on to Bergvliet High School. There were emotional times for  DorothyAnne and me which etch themselves on my memory more than others and which still arouse the same emotions as I recall them now.

Andrew

Andrew left Sweet Valley Primary for Bergvliet High for the Standard 6 year, failed it and then went to repeat that standard at boarding school in Villiersdorp. He was very unhappy there and didn’t go back for the second term. There was no room for him back at Bergvliet but we found a place for him at Norman Henshilwood High School in Constantia where he stayed from Standard 6 through to Standard 9, which he failed at first attempt. At the beginning of the second year of Standard 9 year, he decided to leave school to join the Navy Permanent Force in Simonstown.

One significant (for me) event in Andrew’s young life was the day he ran ‘the’ race at Sweet Valley Primary School. Andrew was just six weeks old when we adopted him. His grandfather would not let his mother keep him because in those days it was shameful for an unmarried girl to have a baby, so he was put up for adoption. He was taken away from his mother at birth — she was not even permitted to hold him, or even see him — so he missed out on that mother-child bonding which is every baby’s right. We adopted him at a time when it seemed we could not have children. We wanted him and we loved him, but from the start he was a ‘difficult’ child. In time when we did have children of our own, and Andrew was then one of four, we took great care that he didn’t receive any less love than any one of the others, but it seemed that no amount of loving could bring him close to us. Always active, and ever rebellious, he was the ringleader for mischief in the family. A very independent child, he chose his own friends, and went his own way. We were saddened and puzzled by his behaviour, and often despaired that he would make anything of his life.

At school, it soon became clear that he was no scholar. He struggled through the lessons, and was often in trouble with his teachers. He was also no athlete. In the seventh grade he had to take part in some activity on sports day and, because there was nothing else he could compete in, his teacher put him down for the 800 metre race. On that memorable day, we watched with other parents as the boys took up positions at the starting line. Andrew was last away and quickly trailed behind all the others as they stretched out round the course. Before he had completed the first of two laps, the leading runners were on the final straight; and when the last one of all the rest crossed the line, he was still not in sight of where we waited with other parents at the finish.

We thought he had given up and dropped out of the race on the far side of the field, but then we heard the sound of clapping, and Andrew came round the corner at the bottom of the straight. The whole school was shouting and cheering, and some children were running with him as he made his way up the field to the finishing line. We stood with lumps in our throats as other parents also joined in, standing up from their seats to applaud this boy who would not give up, but who pressed on to complete the course.

We knew on that day that Andrew has it in him to face whatever life will throw at him. Over the years (he is now over forty) we have seen him go through many trials and crisis, but through them all he has shown much of that same resilience which once carried him through to the end of the 800 metre race.

Jenny

Jenny is, and always was, the eager-beaver. When  DorothyAnne took her to the school on the day she started, Jenny hardly said good bye before she rushed into the classroom to start action with the writing and learning implements on the desk.

We were still living in Kirstenhof when Jenny completed her Matric at Bergvliet High School at the end of 1980. Having finished school she was more than ready and as eager as always to rush out into the wide world. She was offered the chance of being an Exchange Student in America for a year but for some reason that I am not sure of, I wouldn’t let her go. She was then invited to go as a volunteer to work on a Kibbutz in Israel on a programme run by ‘Friends of Israel’, a Christian Action organisation. I agreed this time, I suppose because she would be going as one of a team which included some older persons.

Her departure on that venture produced a most poignant moment for me as she left home for the first time to go out into the world. I had to swallow hard to subdue the lump in my throat as, from the airport building,  DorothyAnne and I watched her walk bravely across the tarmac to the waiting plane. We felt very proud of her at that moment. She was assigned to work on a kibbutz in the very north of Israel on the Lebanese border. Her time there was to produce some anxious moments for us. I recorded the following in my very private journal at the time:

“13/7/81.

On either Wednesday night (8th July) or Thursday night (9th July) I dreamt that Jenny had died and I was very sad because I had not seen her. But  DorothyAnne had seen her and I knew (but not from  DorothyAnne) that she had died serene and not injured in any way. I felt very sad at the thought that I would not see her again in this life. This all took place in a village, not one I know at all, and somehow I was on a street at the edge of the village away from where it took place at the centre. I had a desire to go to where Jenny had lain but I knew it was no use because she had long since been taken away. I awoke soon after this and prayed that God would protect her from injury and death and keep her safe until he comes to take her [one day]. In trying to understand the dream I reassured myself that underlying it was the thought that Jenny might not return to South Africa — she will either stay in Israel or marry an American and go to live there. [There was an American volunteer on the kibbutz at the time].

Tonight, on the news, there was a report of a Lebanese counter-attack (retaliatory) on Kiryat Shemona and I felt a tinge of concern for Jenny. I shared the dream with  DorothyAnne. Whatever happens, Jenny is sure she is where God wants her to be.”

Such is the entry made on the 13/7/81 followed by this one on the 18/7/81:

“Today for the first time really since I had the dream about Jenny, I woke up feeling confident again and that any physical danger to Jenny had passed. O Lord, keep her in your care always.”

Jenny returned to us in Cape Town in May 1982 at the and of her volunteer year and the sadness we felt as we watched her go had a counterpart in smiles when she arrived at our house and saw what we had in store for her! In her absence we had converted the garage into a room, primarily as a study for me but we decided that it would be a treat for her to have her own room for a change. Before that she and Suzanne had always had to share a room. The look on her face as she saw the room was something to remember.

Jenny returned with a good idea that her future lay in computing and IT. With that in mind she took a course in computer programming, found a job and moved into her own flat.

She was home in South Africa, but the dream was still to have an outworking! In time Jenny did meet a man from America — not from the USA but from Canada — married him and has not lived in South Africa ever since! But she was never lost to us. On the contrary, with thanks to her and because of her movements around the world,  DorothyAnne and I have visited countries we never would have dreamt of seeing, starting with a trip to Toronto in Canada to be with her when she and Gordon got married.

In 1986, with just Suzanne and Timothy at home, we sold our house in Kirstenhof and moved to the house on the water in Marina da Gama. It was further for Suzanne and Timothy to go to school and further from their friends in Kirstenhof but it did have other compensations. There was boating on the water in either of our two canoes and rowing boat, and for Timothy it was accessible to the beach and surf at Muizenberg. For me it was a long way round to get to work, especially during the unrest after our car got stoned going down Prince George Drive past the Lavender Hill settlement on the Cape Flats after which I always went the long way round via Muizenberg.

Suzanne

Suzanne was so small when she started school at Wynberg Girls Junior School. That was after we had moved to the house in Princess Road in Bergvliet and she, together with Andrew and Jenny, then had to catch the train to Wynberg. Walking with me to the Heathfield Station in the mornings (I used to commute to work by train at the time), I still picture her as so tiny walking up the road — and well remember the trepidation  DorothyAnne and I felt when she first started to make that journey by train but Andrew and Jenny took care of her along the way.  DorothyAnne was able to fetch her in the car in the afternoon. Later when the three of them transferred to Sweet Valley Junior School it was much easier.

We were living in our house in Kirstenhof when Suzanne started High School at Bergvliet High. She used to cycle to and fro to school and it was while on her way home one afternoon that she distinguished herself as being the only child we know who collected a traffic ticket for failing to stop at a stop street — on a bicycle! For her disregard of road rules, she was made to pay the fine out of her pocket money over time! Of these things that endear her to us, one that sticks out was the night she raided the fridge for the chocolate sauce  DorothyAnne had in there and dropped the bottle, spreading chocolate sauce over the carpet tiles! In alarm, she phoned us at Bertie’s Landing Restaurant where we were having something to eat on our ‘night out’ after the monthly meeting of the Camera Club. Fortunately the carpet tiles in the kitchen (unusual place to have carpet tiles, to say the least) were individually replaceable so no harm was done — except that Suzanne gave herself quite a fright.

Suzanne made an enduring friendship with Gillian who lived across the road. It is amusing now, but  DorothyAnne had some frustrating moments when Suzanne was supposed to be studying for exams but Suzanne and Gillian could not keep away from each other. Gillian would knock on the door,  DorothyAnne would say “Not now Gillian — Suzanne must study”. But Gillian would be back knocking on the door not long afterward, or the two of them would be talking through the bedroom window! But it is a lovely friendship which has continued through the years even after Gillian went to live in Scotland.

Suzanne completed her Matric at Bergvliet High School at the end of 1984 while we were living at Marina da Gama. She had no idea what sort of career she wanted to follow so for a couple of months she worked at a casual Saturday job with Woolworths where she had started while still at school. After a while  DorothyAnne made a decision for her and got her signed up for a secretarial course. Equipped with her diploma she found her first job at the Prudential Insurance Company and, with her own income secured, she bought her first car (a second-hand disappointing Morris Mini) — and moved into her own flat. When two of the brokers at Prudential formed their own Brokers’ business, Suzanne went with them but the job was frustrating because she didn’t really have enough to do so she left and, through a friend, obtained a position with Dr. Jerzy Przybojewski, a Cardiologist in Cape Town where she has now been (at time of writing) for 20 years managing the office and working as his PA.

Timothy

Timothy was born in Durban while we were at the New Forest Congregational Church. He is, and always has been, the resolute, silent type who sticks to his guns and doesn’t often let you in on his thinking. At the very beginnings of the home-computer age when we bought the ZK Spectrum Timothy took to it straight away and spent so much time on it that it affected his school work but it started a passion that resulted in a life-time career. It gave him from the beginning the opportunity to live in his own private world.

A memorable notable occasion in his young life that moved me very much was a letter he wrote to me:

“Daddy — I’m writing to you because I’ve got a problem I can’t handle and I can’t talk about it. The story begins last weekend.

I had borrowed a TV or calculator game (whatever you want to call it) from a friend at school. It was Saturday and I was walking down to Davin’s house and on the way this other guy I know saw the game (he had played it that Friday) and asked for a game. I gave him a game and while he was playing he said I could have a ride on his racer. While I riding I went over a bump and the jockey (part at the back of the bike which changes gears) went into the wheel. I took it back to him and he didn’t seem to be bothered.

On the Monday he told me his bike was in the workshop. Today I saw him and he told me that it had cost R45 to get fixed up. He wanted me to pay for it!

Options I had: -

1. Not do anything about it and see what happened.

2. Tell you and ask you to lend me the bucks or something.

3. Tell you but definitely not pay anything because he had said I could have a go and it was the same risk involved for me as it was for him (had he broken the TV game). Also the jockey might have gone into the wheel a minute after I had given it back. Also I’m sure the damage wasn’t worth R45. Please help, love Tim.

Reply: (space for the reply)”

I still feel the emotion rise as I write this today! I replied:

“This is not a matter to be settled between you two boys. Tell him to ask his father to phone me, but I will like to see an itemised account to see what I am paying for.”

Timothy passed Standard 8 at Bergvliet and then went to Progress College for his Standard 9 and Matric years where he blossomed under the freer environment of the college. He then did his two years’ National Service in the Navy’s Marine Corps at Red Hill in Simonstown. It was while doing his basic training at Saldanha Bay that we had another heart-rending occasion with Tim.  DorothyAnne and I went up to see him on a Saturday when visiting was allowed. The hour approached and we watched the trainees being marched into a hall while the parents and friends waited in the courtyard for them to be released. As we waited we saw one after another emerge from the door to join parents or friends but after half and hour Tim had still not emerged. When we approached the door to find out what was happening we could see him sitting on a bench looking expectantly at the door and only then did we learn that they were only let out when the visitors came to the door to announce their presence. We took him for a drive in the car round the lagoon and stopped for lunch at an hotel but our hearts were sore at the thought of Tim sitting in the hall waiting and wondering if we were coming. It may have helped him a little that I had just acquired a Toshiba laptop computer (one of the first true laptop-size computers to hit the market) and he was able to try it out for the time we were at the hotel. On the trip from further round the lagoon, heading toward the hotel, I narrowly avoided a car crash when I swerved to avoid a tortoise and the car started to sway from side to side in the sandy surface. That shook us all up a bit but may have helped to subdue the sorrow we felt at the delay in meeting him at the camp.

On discharge, he took a job as a mainframe-computer controller for a year, saved enough money to do the first year of a Nature Conservation diploma course at Cape Technicon, and moved in to stay with Suzanne.  DorothyAnne and I were alone in the house.