Familie Westerhoff » Hanna Westerhoff (1897-1959)

Persönliche Daten Hanna Westerhoff 

• Sie ist geboren am 26. Oktober 1897 in Arnhem, Gemeente Arnhem, Gelderland, Nederland.
• Sie wurde getauft am 12. September 1910 in Arnhem, Gemeente Arnhem, Gelderland, Nederland.
• Beruf: im Jahr 1918 Werkster.
• Sie ist verstorben am 4. November 1959 in Salt Lake City, Salt Lake County, Utah, Verenigde Staten, sie war 62 Jahre alt.

  Longkanker

• Sie wurde begraben am 7. November 1959 in Salt Lake City Cemetery, Salt Lake County, Utah, Verenigde Staten.

  nr 85423

• Ein Kind von Hendrikus Westerhoff und Maria Gerritsen
• Diese Information wurde zuletzt aktualisiert am 15. Februar 2024.

Familie von Hanna Westerhoff

Notizen bei Hanna Westerhoff

I, Hanna Westerhoff, was born in the city of Arnhem in the Province of Gelderland, in the Netherlands, on October 26, l897. I was born to Hendrik Westerhoff and Maria Gerritsen. My Dad was born on December 15, 1857 in Doorn; and my Mother on April 29, 1854 in Beekbergen. So, at the time of my birth, they were thirty nine and forty two years of age. Prior to my birth, they had six children; Hendrika, born March 22, 1877; Johannes Hendrikus born May 13, l883; Jannetje born March 3, 1885; Cornelis, born November 8, 1886; Frederick Pieter born April 4, 1892; Hermanus born October 19, 1894; then me, and Hendrik, my younger brother, born February 14, 1901. This made a total of eight children which my Mother bore into the world.

As far as I can remember, we always lived in the Houtstraat. This street was a side street like a court. You entered it through an archway. The street was about two hundred feet long and maybe twenty five feet wide. The street and the sidewalks were of brick. The homes were row homes, maybe ten of them on each side of the street. They were about twenty feet wide. Row homes are homes that are wall to wall and not owned, but rented. They were also called tenement housing. The homes were two stories high, if the attic could be called a second story. The front of the homes were all identical, with a front door and a window. Some homes would have a flower box on the window sill. The home had a front room, behind it a kitchen, stairway to the upstairs and behind the kitchen, a kind of porch.
My older brothers and sisters were working, married, or living here and there. My oldest sister, Hendrika, got married the year after I was born. Jannetje died when I was about ten in childbirth. Cornelis (Kees) had been in the Army, the Hussars. My younger brother, Hendrik, and I and my older brother, Hermanus, were probably the closest to me since they were closer to my age. I remember them being at home.

The house, even on a bright day, was dingy. The rooms upstairs were underneath the clay tile roof. In the early 1900's, work was long on hours and short on money. Although my father was a good worker, we did not have much in the way of earthly goods.

My Dad was a laborer, who worked mostly for a contractor. He did all sorts of jobs from carrying brick or mortar in a "V" shaped trough up ladders to the brick layers, (hod carrier) to supervising men and laying brick and tile in fireplace. He was very meticulous and when people complained about a job, "Sweet Hendrik", as his co workers used to call him, was sent in to soothe the customer and finish the job. A normal day often started at 5:30 a.m. and with an hour for travel, start work at 7:00 and work until 7:00 p.m., an hour for going home. This was for five days a week and a half day on Saturday. Ten or twelve hour work days was as common as eight hour days are now. Going to work was usually on foot, sometimes on a bicycle, and on a rare occasion by horse drawn tram. So, up before sunrise, and getting home late or even when dark was not uncommon.

While I was in school, I, would sometimes get a chance to take him his lunch. During my lunch period, I would run home, grab my Dad's lunch, hop on a bicycle, and peddle out to his job. If I was running late, the workers would say, "Better hurry Anna, the "Zute" (sweet one) is waiting." Then I got chewed out for being late. I would wait until he was through eating, grab his lunch pail, hop on my bicycle, go home, and run back to school. There were times when I would be late, returning to school and I would get a scotch blessing or had to stand in the corner of the room. Sometimes I got some extra homework. I was seldom excited about these trips. I was a nervous wreck by the time I got back to school whether on time or not.

As Dad was working day and night, Mom was home. Although Mom was near fifty, I remember her as being sickly. Her nervous system was weak. She was quite a religious woman and continually reading the Bible. When the Mormon missionaries came, she found they had many answers to the questions which had been bothering her for quite some time. These questions were in regard to her children. My Mother's first child had been by another man four years before she married my Dad. In addition, my sister, Jannetje, had died after she had given birth to a child. My Mother was concerned about life after death and the family relationship.

After Jannetje had died, her husband to be, who was in the Army, volunteered to serve in Indonesia. His conscience kept on bothering him to such an extent that he would wake up and see her standing by the bed waving her finger in a scolding manner at him.

Over the next few years, most of my brothers, as well as my parents and myself became members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Sometimes the reasons for joining the Church were somewhat shady, in my opinion. Missionaries often feel if they do not make any converts, they have failed in their calling. Therefore, even though it rarely happens, a pair of shoes promised for being baptized goes a long way; if that person needs shoes to look for work in some other place away from home. Maybe, that was the reason that Hermanus is listed in the Lost Membership Records.

With Mother sick, I got to do quite a few of the jobs that she would ordinarily have done. There was no such a thing in our home as radio, electricity, central heating, hot water, bath tub, organ, or piano. Radios, cars, telephones, washing machines, refrigerators, airplanes, television, etc. were just coming into existence. These conveniences would not be for some time for the working class. We did have oil lamps, wood/coal burning kitchen stove, cold water, a big tub for washing (both us and our clothing), and some books.

Our homelife was similar to many other families. It has been said, that poor people have poor ways. On my Dad's payday, he would often go to one of the saloons; where if he was not careful, he would sometimes loose the best part of his check. Many wives would go to the bars to rescue their husbands and the weekly paycheck. It was a custom that one would buy a round of drinks for all of his friends, of which you could gain a dozen in no time. Two or three rounds and bye bye paycheck. My Mother, being too sick, would send me. By standing on my toes, I could look over the curtain in the window. If I could spot Dad, I would call to him at the doorway. His friends would tease him, "What is the matter Hendrik? You got little Anna to hold your hand?" As I got older, I would meet him and would try to get him home, before he could hit the bars with his friends. He would often say, "You go on home, I'll just have one drink and I will be home." Only problem was, one drink led to another and another. So, I would say, "O.K., I'll wait out here by the door." He would usually come out after his first drink because I would keep on after him until he came out, to the dismay of his entourage.

The home, even in daylight was darkish. However, at night, it was an absolute tomb. On some occasions when Mom and Dad were out shopping, Henk and I were left at home. The house was real spooky. The shadows made by the oil lamp light was enough to keep us quiet. However, if the oil lamp went out, the darkness and the cold was enough to keep us from talking and only whisper when necessary. Often, we would sit at the table and lay our heads down and be asleep when Mom and Dad came home.

Mother got steadily worse. She had headaches that were excruciating and although the doctors gave her powders, they helped her less and less. The bedstead, (a bed built into the wall) had plastered walls. During some of her attacks, her fingernails had dug grooves into the plaster. When she was feeling better, she often would sit reading the Bible. Dad was a tease, to the point of being a tormentor. When he had a bad day, he would come home; find Mom reading and would say, "Well, well, look at the Holy Maria. Nothing to do but read the Bible." It would sometimes make my Mother shake and scream.

During one of these tirades near the end of my Mother's life, she became very upset. I became so angry that I started toward a kettle of boiling water on the stove threatening to throw it on my Dad if he did not leave Mother alone. Dad took off his belt and said he would show me who was the boss of the house. Afterward I told him he could beat me as often as he liked, but if he ever went after my Mother again I would throw a kettle of hot water on him. He was not as bad after this incident.

In winter, my Dad would, at times, be out of work. It did not take long to run out of money, food, and fuel. With Mother down sick and my Dad being too proud a man to ask for help, I was selected to ask for help from the only agency we knew of; the Church that we belonged to at that time. I would feel bad, but it had to be done. I was about ten or twelve years of age. I would get in line with others and it would give me a creepy feeling with all those grownups staring at me and talking about me, especially when they wanted to take advantage of me and crowd ahead, which I would not let them do. The help we received was never enough to last a week, but it sure was appreciated.

At times, I was sent to the "Kolen Boer" (Coal Handler) to get some wood. Of course, a nickel's worth of wood was not much but if taken in big pieces, it would go a lot further. The coal handler would try to sell me the chopped wood, but I would refuse and take the pieces. We would chop it up at home and have more wood that way. The coal handler would half jokingly say, "Girl the Devil must be in you". He could not get the best of me.

As I mentioned before, Dad could be ornery. In short, he was often a pest. When I was going to school, I had a pair of shoes that had holes clear through. When it rained, which was often, my feet would get wet. With winter and Christmas coming on, I had asked for some new shoes. I had bugged Dad about it for some weeks. One payday, I asked him over and over, but he kept putting me off. The stores, at that time, would close at twelve midnight. About five minutes before the store was to close, he proceeded to put his coat on and headed for the door. Turning to me he said, "Well, do you or don't you want those shoes?" Grabbing my coat, I ran to the shoe store and told them I wanted those shoes and not to lock the door, since my Dad was coming right behind me.

When we joined the Mormon Church, it did not change our habits over night. Dad was used to using some unsavory language at times and although he tried, things often got the best of him. One day, when he was getting carried away, the missionaries happened to drop by. They did not let on they had heard him, but one of them said; "Brother Westerhoff, it is good to hear you calling upon the Lord, but please do not be like the Pharisees and let the neighbors know what you are doing."

At another time, when one of the missionaries was about to go home. He said, "Anna come here I want to kiss you." Although he said it in Dutch, he used the English word kiss. That word kis means a wooden box in Dutch. My Mother, who had overheard what he said, in all earnestness and not knowing better asked, "But son, what do you need a kis for?" Some of the missionaries were real examples and gentlemen, who I had a chance of meeting again years later when I moved to Salt Lake City.

Of all my brothers, none were or remained active in the Church. Kees, his wife and kids were active to some extent. Jan had a son who, years later, was active when he was married. Hermanus was not active and died by accident or intrigue in Amsterdam. Henk never became active.

My Mother became more and more withdrawn, due to her health: headaches, female problems, bladder problems, gallstones, and whatever else that was bothering her. It did not take much to set her off and she would act as if she were epileptic; shaking, moaning, and lack of motor control.

One incident happened, which involved my brother, Kees, who had been in the Army. He was in a group called the Hussars, which was a horse cavalry group. They had fancy uniforms, sabers, and the real bearskin hats. The hat was so heavy that I had a hard time to lift it, let alone wear it. When Kees would come home wearing this piece of headgear, he would have a crease in his forehead for hours afterwards.

One of the neighbors, when drunk, would walk up and down the street swinging a saber and terrorizing the neighborhood and hollering for my Mother to come on out. He screamed that he would cut her head off and hack her to pieces. It would scare Mom and us kids as well. Mom would have a near nervous breakdown. Kees had heard about it and warned this man that if it happened again, he would be sorry. Of course, it happened again. When Kees came home, he went over to the man's home. The man would not answer the door. So, Kees picked up his flower box and tossed it through the window. Weeks later, drunk and waving his sword, the man again was out in the street. Kees happened to come home at this time. The man fled for his open door. Kees got there first blocking the man's escape. The chase started and at a place known as "het single", which was a semi park with oak trees, ponds, and some flowers. They cornered one another. The fight ended when Kees was stabbed in the leg and he hit the man over the head with a tree limb. A policeman was called to the scene. He told Kees to get out of there and arrested the man for drunkedness when he came to. We did not have any further trouble for a long time.

After graduating from the sixth grade, it was time for me to go to work. One, of the places that I worked, was at a laundry. The work was hard and although I tried to keep up, I just felt worn out and tired. The doctor said I should have rest, lots of vitamins, meat, and sunshine. One of the men, at my work, had the answer. The owners had chickens. My fellow employee would get some eggs, punch a hole in them and suck the contents out. However, raw eggs were not my fare.

I finally got a job as a maid at a home. When they showed me my duties; I, as well as the man of the house, wondered whether I would be able to do the work. We finally compromised that their son would lift the carpets out in order for me to clean them. They were very good to me.

Mother was getting to the point where we could not take proper care of her. We wound up taking her to a sort of hospital. When I visited, I entered by going down some stairs and ringing the bell. A steel door would open and I would enter. The door would clank shut behind me. I would stare down a hall in which two or three small lights were glowing. As I proceeded down the hall. There were doors to the left and the right with little windows in them. In one or two, you could hear someone hollering or screaming. It would give me the creeps. My Mother was from clear headed to being in another world, at this time. When I was seventeen, my Mother died.

If I had to describe my youth, I was quite sickly. I had some headaches, and in general, had a case of malnutrition. When I went to work as a housemaid, the people fed me well and I started to gain some weight. It did not end my health problems, but I felt a lot better.

As a girl, I had a few friends. The one I ran around with most, was a daughter of the coal handler by the name of Brouer. Often I would go there and play. When I got into my teens, every Saturday, Mr. Brouer would count all the money he had made during the week. He was nearsighted and had a hard time counting the money. His daughter and I would help him; pennys in stacks of ten, half pennys in stacks of ten, stuiver (nickels) in stacks of ten, two and half cents, quarters, and guldens; all nice and neat. The old man was a real penny pincher. As such, his wife and daughter, as they were counting the money; would pick up some money and while passing their hand over a pail of milk, drop some coins into the milk pail. Every so often we got a one half or one penny to spend on candy. The Brouer children, mostly boys, were short and heavy set. They were hellions at times. However, when dinner time came, the food was dished up by their Mom and the plates were laden with enough food for a mine worker. If they balked or pretended that they were going to throw up, a whip with about a half dozen thongs, usually would change their minds.

My Dad was a real "Gentleman" when it came to clothing. He wore suit, gloves, cane, and of course, the unforgetable dickey, (a detachable front shirt) and bow tie. On Sundays, when he would get ready to go for a walk. I got to help him with his shirt dickey. You had to hold it down and get the other clothing in place or the darn thing would snap right back up. His tie was a course in patience all by itself. Getting it just right could take a half an hour. He had to do it over and over while he stood in front of the mirror. At times, I would say, "Looks great Dad," and walk off, leaving him mumbling.

On the other hand, Mother was a down to earth woman with no airs. Her parents were from a farming community and their daughter never completely left it.

After Mom's death, Hank, Dad, and I were left at home. I was about seventeen at this time. I had found work as a maid, which was hard, but I improved in health as time went on. I was attending the LDS Church, where I met a fellow by the name of Stephanus Flink, from a city called Utrecht. He was employed by the Nederlandse Spoorwegen (Dutch Railroad) and had been transferred to Arnhem. I had seen him a few times at Church, and one day he asked me out for a Sunday walk. The walks, over the next year or so became a proposal, which I accepted. He was not bad looking and had a good job. Hank and Dad worried me, for Dad was having problems with his legs and out of work quite often. His legs had sores on them that just would not heal. Getting married would relieve much of my work. Besides working out all day, there was still my Dad's home to care for cleaning, making beds, washing, etc. so things would get easier for me, or so I thought. I was happy to begin married life.

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