Giving Thanks part 2.

So, did anyone else find out in their mid-twenties that their grandpa was a serious hero/bad-A?!

We're all getting ready for the Thanksgiving dinner when my aunt casually brought up my Opa's story (that's Dutch for grandpa). Apparently my mom has a bad memory.

Background: My Opa died a year before I was born of pancreatic cancer. I have not heard ONE bad thing about my Opa. My dad to this day talks of how his ex-father-in-law was one of the kindest, sincere men he has ever met in his life. I wish I had had the pleasure of meeting him and spending some time with him. I wish even more now that I heard how wonderful he was.

Opa was also known as Jan Van Den Berg. He was born and raised in Holland.

He turned into one striking young man. The look on his face in this next picture (he's in the middle)....

Now for my favorite part....My Opa was a member of the Dutch Underground (also known as the Dutch Resistance). Believe me, it's as cool as it sounds. My Opa hid Jews from the Nazis. You know how Anne Frank and her family hid in a kind family's home/store in Holland? My Opa took a family into his home and hid them in order to help them survive. Can you imagine the bravery that took? What a selfless act!!

The story gets worse, but then better. My Opa was eventually caught. They sent those who hid the Jews to the concentration camps too.... The Nazis took my Opa and put him on a line to a train headed for death at a concentration camp. Do you know what that man did? He fled the line. Story goes there were shots fired at him as he ran. But he escaped!!! (obviously, if he didn't I wouldn't be here today.)

From there, he joined the Dutch Marines....He was stationed in England. There, he met my Oma, Amy Van Den Berg. The rest is history:

This postcard was sent to Holland to tell family he arrived safe in New York after immigrating there from England with my Oma. His return address was 138 E 36th St, New York, NY 10016. The crazy part: I lived 2 blocks from their first apartment (in the US) last year and never even knew.

I wish I could thank him for living such a wonderful life and tell him that I'm proud to be his grand daughter (and tell him we could have been neighbors!!). That is honestly the most moving story I have ever heard.

Thanks to my Aunt Maggie for having these wonderful pictures, her memory, and for keeping family history.