Uncles and aunts

From childhood, I felt a special bond with my Uncle Willie. Even before I started school, I would often visit him on the farm for long periods. I vividly remember one day in the ploughed field when an ostrich charged at me. Fortunately, Uncle Willie saw the danger in time. With incredible quickness, he charged at the ostrich himself and turned it away by lashing his whip around its neck. It was a narrow escape indeed. I was barefoot, and the ground was strewn with thorns.

Dad and his three brothers, whom I knew well, were very different in temperament but shared many common traits. All four had fair skin, reddish hair, and goatees. Dad was the only one who became slightly bald later in life. The other three, though their hair thinned over time, never went completely bald. None of them, even until their deaths, ever struggled with a ‘boobie’ (a bald spot on the crown of the head).

They were deeply religious, devoted to their church, people, and language, but they were neither fanatics nor gossips. When chalices were introduced at the Lord’s Supper, Dad was not pleased. It wasn’t the principle itself that troubled him, but rather the arguments made in favor of the chalices, particularly those framed from a medical perspective, which deeply disturbed him. None of the brothers had likely ever been to a hotel, and none of them smoked or used tobacco. I never heard them speak ill of others. They enjoyed a good joke but detested coarse language and frivolous talk. If van der Merwe jokes had existed at the time, Uncle Willie probably would have been able to contribute a few of his own. The closest thing to it was the song:

Old man van Schoor was about the ugliest old man
I’ve ever seen – and his mouth when it’s open
You can see his guts through his neck,
He’d give half his wealth
If the children would just stop screaming –
What a mouth, what a mouth, what a terrible mouth.
And his old wife, it’s true, often does not sleep at night
In the middle of the night when the animals starts laughing
You can hear a creaking sound in the walls of the house.

In my childhood I not only heard Oom Willie sing the songs, but also heard him make merry on his violin when the young people danced. Even Dad apparently let the English concertina do the talking. Apparently they didn’t dance themselves, but they helped make music with such mirth. In his old age I still heard Dad play Zionist hymns on the piano – although with stiff, shaky fingers.

Most of the songs that Oom Willie recited or sang were probably drawn from Die Patriot or Ons Kleintjie, but he was also a rhymer par excellence. A rhyme is practiced from almost any event and he could highlight and reflect the funny in it. Oddly enough, he never wrote down his inventions, but if the memory of the event came back to him, he could repeat the rhyme again. Uncle Willie was the first person I heard yodel:

I ride on a donkey and the field is barren
I come from my land and I fight for the Transvaal
A joerel-a-é, al jorel – a – ei
A joerel – a. a joerel – a joerel –a – dei”

A song they also loved to sing was:

The Boers are now going to ride,
With a Mauser at their side
Appel – joepel, appel-joepel, appeldei
But now they will hear
Of destruction on the railway track
Appel-joepel, etc.
Farewell Kakie, farewell Kakie
We’re off to seek the enemy
Farewell, farewell, farewell
For the Boers the Kakie is no man
On the water you can make a noise
Because there you are better
Appel – joepel etc.
But on our soil,
You will die like a dog
Appel-joepel etc. and Farewell Khakis 

Long before there was a FAK songbook, they sang the songs: “Where did you get that hat, where did you get that top hat” and “Die ou heer Wilson” and “Die Kat kom weer en hy willie langer wag”.

I think the following song was probably one of Oom Willie’s own creations:

Ou Rooivers said he has stomach ache
President Steyn agrees, let’s give him some oil
Come citizen be faithful, hold on tight
The end is nigh if he gets stomach ache again 

As a young man, around 1880, Uncle Willie was called up for military service on the Eastern Front. In the border districts, the farmers suffered heavy losses from black communities who carried out raids at night, burned down houses, and stole livestock. Uncle Willie rode to Graaff-Reinet, where the Commando was formed. They moved eastward but never truly encountered the black raiders. The trees and vegetation were apparently so dense at the time that the raiders, retreating, found ample shelters and hiding places to evade the farmers. Reportedly, the Commando reached East London without engaging in a fight or firing a single shot. From East London, they traveled by ship to the Cape, where the Commando disbanded. Uncle Willie then rode back to Beaufort West. He had a friend, Mr. Jacobus Marais, also from Beaufort West. The Marais family from Beaufort West knew us very well during our childhood.

As a young man, around 1880, Uncle Willie was called up for military service on the Eastern Front. In the border districts, the farmers suffered heavy losses from black communities who carried out raids at night, burned down houses, and stole livestock. Uncle Willie rode to Graaff-Reinet, where the Commando was formed. They moved eastward but never truly encountered the black raiders. The trees and vegetation were apparently so dense at the time that the raiders, retreating, found ample shelters and hiding places to evade the farmers. Reportedly, the Commando reached East London without engaging in a fight or firing a single shot. From East London, they traveled by ship to the Cape, where the Commando disbanded. Uncle Willie then rode back to Beaufort West. He had a friend, Mr. Jacobus Marais, also from Beaufort West. The Marais family from Beaufort West knew us very well during our childhood.

The brothers especially loved to sing Psalms, hymns, and songs from the old Children’s Harp – polyphonic arrangements featuring soprano, tenor, and bass. For me, listening to their singing was always an unforgettable experience – especially when, as old men, they sang the evening hymn: “Thank you Father, thank you, and once upon the evening of my life….”

Dad’s brothers all lived to remarkable ages. When Uncle Willie passed away at the age of 97, the Minister was at his bedside, with the family gathered around. Shortly before he died, he opened his eyes and asked them to sing a song. Moved by the moment, they struggled to sing well. After a silence, Uncle Willie himself – softly but clearly – began singing “Kom treën wy dan bemoedigd voort,” and with this song, he passed away. Uncle Willie was 97 years old when he died, Uncle Andries reached 94, Uncle Stephanus 82, and Dad lived to the age of 84.