December 18, 1962

December 18, 1962. It was a dark and blustery winter evening as Jilt and his wife Jacoba stood at the end of the driveway of their small war time home, waiting for a chance to cross the road. They had plans to spend the evening at their church celebrating Christmas with friends, singing and enjoying one anothers' company. Being actively involved in the church community was not something new for Jilt and Jacoba. Before they immigrated to Canada, Jilt had served as a deacon in their church in Holland and now here in Canada he was an elder. Although being immigrants in a new country for the past eight years was challenging Jilt and Jacoba had the pleasure of witnessing their daughters and son marry. They joyfully welcomed grandchildren into their lives. Their youngest son, Garry still remained at home and Jilt kept busy with his upholstery business.



Jilt and Jacoba in their younger years.

On December 18, as Jilt and Jacoba crossed the road dressed in their warm winter clothes, a car came barreling around the corner. With the smell of alcohol on his breath, William C. aged 38 headed straight for Jilt and Jacoba throwing them on to the roof of his car and then tossing them into the air. Jacoba, just two months shy of turning 60, died upon impact and Jilt, 66, died of his injuries two hours later in the hospital.

Their son, Garry, was playing the organ in the living room of their home when he heard the screeching of brakes and then a loud thud. Instantly he knew that it was his parents.
Jilt and Jacoba's children were called and told that a terrible accident had taken place and to rush to the hospital. Tragically they never saw their parents alive again.

(Jacoba and Jilt are on the right - two years before their death)

The next morning, the newspaper headline read, "City Couple Killed By Car."
The family, in their shock and grief, made calls to their friends and family in Holland, wrote obituary notices, and decided on funeral arrangements.
My dad had just turned eight when his grandparents were killed and although he remembered his grandparents small, little home, with the organ taking up most of the space in the living room; he also remembered spending time there, the rabbits that his grandfather raised, and the upholstery business in the back shop. My dad said that he will never forget the phone call of that night, watching his parents' shocked faces and then the rush to leave for the hospital.
1Thessalonians 4:13-18 was written on the obituary notices and what a blessing it was for Jilt and Jacoba's children to know that those who die believing that Jesus died and rose again will always be with the Lord. They were able to comfort one another with this (vs 18).


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Reading the old newspaper articles from 1962 and asking my grandparents questions about the accident has made me reflective and has challenged me.
*I was reminded that life on earth is a journey and we will leave behind a legacy. How we live now, the decisions we make, the words we speak, and our actions determine what kind of legacy we will leave.
*We often say, "the Lord willing." On that winter evening, Jilt and Jacoba closed the  front door of their home and a few moments later they were taken from this earth.
*This accident occurred exactly one week before Christmas Day. While the Christmas season may be "merry and bright" for us - not everyone is celebrating. Those around us may be in a hard place in their lives and we need to come along side them and be understanding and sympathetic.

Tonight, Adam and I look forward to celebrating Christ's birth in our church. Exactly fifty-one years ago, so did my great grandparents. Last night my grandfather said to me that generations come and go, but one thing remains - God is faithful and He is good!