Above the parapet
The sociological phenomenon of headhunting by governments, agencies, religious groups, individuals and others in a position of power.
CONTENT:
Preface
CH1. Above the parapet
CH2. How it started
CH3. The religious factor
CH4. Between two pitfalls
CH5. The defiant preacher
CH6. Camping life
CH7. A turbulent year
CH8. Beyond the turbulance
CH9. Bahama Breeze
CH10. A storm is coming
CH11. The curtain falls
CH12. What’s next?
CH13. Falling and getting up again
CH14. Beyond the maffia
CH15. Home
CH16. It can also be done this way
PREFACE
This book would never have been possible without the enormous support, inspiration and encouragement of my better half, my loving Caroline. Endless hours of typing, editing, rephrasing was never too much for her. My gratitude for all her efforts in this cannot really be described. Thank you, dear, for all this work and everything we have experienced and gone through together on our life’s journey.
My thanks also go to my former colleague in the police, Ton Veld, who encouraged me to write this book. His life story, which he shared with me openly and vulnerably, is available under the title “It’s only temporary”, also from this publisher. Ton, thank you again for who you are.
If you deviate from what is standard in your environment, your head will soon rise above the parapet, you are standing out. This entails certain risks. Yet it is sometimes necessary to be deviant and therefore deviate from existing norms. This is to change and improve an entrenched, often one-sided vision of what we daily do.
I also hope that my experiences in addiction care, recorded in this book, will be an inspiration and a call to action for many to do what is necessary for others where possible. Being there for the other person who needs you is an important first step; from there something beautiful can arise. If that is the case, then this book has received more than its goal.
Sophia, August 1, 2024
Gerard Blankespoor
CHAPTER 1. ABOVE THE PARAPET
Above the parapet you have an excellent perspective on what is happening in your environment. Below the parapet you only see your immediate surroundings. If you follow the standard paths of society, your head will not easily rise above that level. This only happens when you deviate from what has been established or how things should go in your life and career. Once your head is above the parapet, you run the risks that come with it. Criticism often arises from the civil service, because you deviate from the standard that has been established.
It also appears that sticking your head above the parapet has a certain attraction for people who, for example, want to benefit from what you have created. Or just people who don’t have much to offer themselves and are simply jealous or envious of what you have achieved.
All of these are dangerous circumstances, where the goal is to mow your head off, sideline you or, if possible, ruin your life. Dangerous and sick practices, but they happen all too often. How many heads have been cut off over the course of human history? Written history is full of it. Very often they were and are people whose positions were too weak or had insufficient (financial) resources to repel those attacks. I am not a fan of Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos, but they are also under fire from people and institutions who want to end their careers and their influence on the world. In their case, the fact that their proverbial heads are still above ground level is mainly due to the financial ability they have to survive.
Other examples of this so-called headhunting can be found in politics, business and governments, all too often involving a lot of backbiting and innuendo.
This sociological phenomenon of “headhunting” can be defined as systematically attacking the person in question at every opportunity, leaving no opportunity unused to cause as much damage as possible with lies, half-truths, gossip, fabrications and backbiting.
My book “Above the parapet” is about my personal experiences with this phenomenon in which many people willingly and unwillingly participate. Headhunting people who have a vision and have achieved something from that, has created something, is and remains a painful experience for those who undergo it.
For me it started when I worked for the municipal police of The Hague. I was “promoted” to mentor within three months of obtaining my police diploma. I did not have much experience with police work, but I did have a lot of theoretical knowledge, I had to teach other recently graduated police officers how to best practice the profession while patrolling the streets of The Hague. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back my head was soon above the “police parapet”. Many colleagues at the time could not understand my position as a mentor and therefore avoided me as much as possible, insinuated the necessary and sometimes openly showed their jealousy.
That only became worse when, in search of meaning, I started to believe in Christ and in the church as a vehicle for practical meaningful activity. A similar pattern also developed in the church I had joined at the time. At that time, I had a vision aimed at a very practically functioning Christianity. In other words, don’t talk about love, but act, do it out of love for your fellow man to help practically when there is a need for it. That was against the written and unwritten rules of that church. Some in that church were simply jealous, others felt threatened by my different vision of what a church could be. Apparently, I disturbed the peace in their church community. As a result, I was soon boycotted, especially by the leader in that community. That was the reason for me to leave the community with my family.
Leaving the church, but also the police, was not much appreciated. To the church members you have become infected, become an apostate that no one wants anything to do with.
I experienced the same in the police force when I quit my job as a police officer. You don’t do that, do you? This deviant behavior does not suit the police. I was considered some kind of traitor to the greater good. You don’t belong anymore and that would be emphasized again later during my arrest.
National and local authorities are also guilty of headhunting, not only in my case. For example, I stood out in my work in addiction care, which was carried out with a different vision than that of the authorities. I was out of step, defiant in their eyes, even though my work among addicts cost significantly less than the government’s methods. My head needed to be removed. The authorities, including the judiciary and the police, seized the opportunity with both hands when it arose. No finding out the truth, everything was aimed at driving me out of my position. No method of justice and police was left unused to achieve their goal.
Having left the church in The Hague and joining another denomination, where I followed the first part of my theological studies, I encountered the phenomenon of headhunting again. Because of my success in addiction work, the umbrella organization of that community felt that they should reap the benefits and reduce my prestige and ((standing) in the country. By using lies and jealous people to bring me down, I also left there and started a new shelter in Beekbergen, called De Schakel. Naturally, I was expelled from the club and as a result I hardly saw or spoke anyone after that.
By using that same jealousy against me as a person and as a successful healthcare provider, with the accompanying lies, deceit and innuendo, my head was ultimately cut off. Certain people made false reports against me regarding sexual abuse. The authorities immediately responded to this, on the one hand by cutting De Schakel’s financial resources and on the other hand by ordering my arrest. My head had been above the parapet for too long and was now permanently gone.
But as if that were not enough, over the following years it turned out that this phenomenon of headhunting can also be found within the family bond. Once again driven by jealousy, lies, gossip, backbiting and envy, both my brothers also tried to cut my head above the parapet of the family. My arrest and its consequences for De Schakel made it clear to my brothers that I was good for nothing and certainly also a criminal. After all, what I had created had disappeared from the visible world and, in their eyes, what I had achieved had also disappeared. How narrow-minded can a person be! They did everything they could to pour this poison, how they thought about me, into the psyche and emotional lives of my children and grandchildren, making a rift with the family inevitable. This way, my reputation as a successful person in life was skilfully destroyed.
Since this is all improper and contains no truth whatsoever, my wife Caroline and I have decided to expose this method of headhunting in this book.
In addition to this book, my activities in addiction care can also be read on my website gerardblankespoor.com, as well as my vision on pastoral care, which I have housed together with Caroline on a separate website vital-awareness.com.
Disappointed in the police and justice system? Yes.
Disappointed in other government agencies? Yes.
Disappointed in fellow believers? Yes.
Disappointed in humanity? Yes.
Disappointed in family? Yes.
Disappointed in life? No, it has brought me great satisfaction and the love of my life. That is the essence of life.
Finally, a warning regarding psychoanalysis masquerading as a scientific method: nothing could be further from the truth! These therapists are, at their core, followers of Freud, Jung and others. They dig deep into the past of the person who seeks help from them and suggest anything and everything to explain the cause of their problem, the so-called “Recovered Memories”. Recovered memories that my brothers and I have fallen victim to that contain zero percent truth, but all too often lead to filing false reports to the police. The untruthful explanations provided by such a psychotherapist are often used as expert insight in a lawsuit. However, this psychoanalytic movement in psychology lacks any form of scientific substantiation but is generally accepted in the society in which we live. For those interested, Professor Dr. Crombag wrote a very interesting book called “Recovered Memories”.
I hope that my book “Above the parapet” makes people alert to the sociological phenomenon of headhunting that every person can be exposed to.
Don’t let this discourage anyone from sticking their head above this proverbial ground through their vision, deviant attitude or whatever in society. I would do it again if it were possible. But forewarned is forearmed and it is therefore easier to recognize this phenomenon and anticipate it when it occurs. I have reached out to many hundreds of people in my life and offered them my help in their often very difficult living conditions. To this day, that is worth everything to me.
Trying to do good to all people, no matter who they are, has made life more than worth living for me, despite…!
CHAPTER 2. HOW IT STARTED
My choice to work for the police is a decision that I still reap the benefits of to this day. Not an inspector Morse story, but one that I am proud of.
This process of getting a more meaningful, but above all better-paid job, took shape at the Ministry of Defence as an administrative employee. I worked there for about nine months, meaning I was there on time to go home on time every day. Working half an hour every day in the army card index and spending the rest of the time being bored and playing a lot of chess games with another colleague who had been there for years.
Spending my life this way was not an attractive prospect. Moreover, I had a young family at the time, a house in Maassluis and, above all, a lot of expenses. I had to turn over every cent twice to spend it once.
That situation inspired me to look for other and, above all, better-paid work.
I came across an advertisement from the municipal police of The Hague, who were looking for people to enforce the law in uniform on the street. That seemed like something to me! A one-year course, you immediately earn more and if you passed after the year of training, you would earn even more!
The latter in particular was my motivation to take the plunge and officially apply for a job. A process that would take many months, including psychological tests, medical examination regarding my health, visits by police officers to my family, a sports test and finally a final interview with several police commissioners. Afterwards I heard that only one in ten applicants would complete the entire process successfully. Lucky me, I was one of them.
After a year filled with theory about legislation and practical training, I started working as a police officer with a three-month internship under the guidance of a mentor, a police officer who had already gained years of practical experience. After that I went out on the streets independently, and to my surprise I was transferred after three months to the police training office to become a mentor myself to newly graduated officers.
During my time with the police, I have experienced a lot. From serious traffic accidents, finding people who had died in their homes, but also comical and fun stuff. For example, a resident of the Beeklaan (a street in The Hague) had called because she needed assistance. However, she deemed me too small to be a “real” agent. It took a real surveillance car, with real cops, to convince her that I was one too.
And what about a delicious Moroccan dinner as a thank you for the help I provided in obtaining a permanent residence permit for this Moroccan family.
I recall that time at the municipal police of The Hague with great pleasure.
Due to my practical functioning as a police officer on the street, I developed a feeling to differently approach fellow human beings as a police officer. Particularly regarding seeing the need that often lies behind many people’s problems. For example, in consultation with my then wife, I took a lonely Hindu drug user into my home for a few weeks after he was released from the station where I served. For me, this was the beginning of the development of a more social view of my fellow man, resulting in the provision of practical help that goes with it. So, not so much a verbal exercise of my office, although that was always there, but much more a helping, supportive approach where necessary and possible for anyone who needed it.
In the years that followed, I grew more and more into being able to help people this way. And no, I had no vision at all to specifically help addicts. That vision only came much later, when I had already been honourably discharged from the police and ended up in pastoral work. Until then, I acted spontaneously in all kinds of situations in my police career, with the law in one hand and compassion for my fellow man in the other.
CHAPTER 3. THE RELIGIOUS FACTOR
The reaction of the religious community in The Hague, where I attended church with my family, should have been a wake-up call for me. But that wasn’t the case at all at that time. I was only surprised that the leadership of that community, led by my eldest brother Henk, strongly rejected the inclusion of a person in need in my family, as being an irresponsible act. In fact, it was actually forbidden, because this would not set a good example for the community. Simply including someone you don’t know into your young family is scary and does not occur in the unwritten laws of the church.
In addition, the person I helped had a different skin color, a new phenomenon in the church. Moreover, he was also of Hindustani descent and that did not fit with Christian thinking. Racism? No, but a strong bias that borders on racism. While in my opinion the Christian attitude should be one of practical help for a fellow human being in need. Whoever it is and whatever his background may be.
From that moment on I was regarded with suspicion. An odd one out, that’s what you could call me back then. For example, the leadership (including my brother Henk) determined that the believers in the church shouldn’t encounter my thoughts about practical faith as much as possible. For example, they did not want to use my idea to make video and audio recordings of the assemblies and bring them to the attention of sick and interested people.
To a greater or lesser extent, I was pushed to the sidelines of the community and systematically blocked from functioning as a co-leader in the core of the church. For me this slowly but surely created an atmosphere of “survival of the fittest”.
In any case, the leadership of the church where I attended was on the outside unanimous in their views on how they thought things should go in the community. It would later become clear to me that this unanimity did not actually exist at all. There was one who decided everything, and that was my brother Henk.
All this did not stop me from exuding in word and deed in my work at the police how things could work in society; enforce the law and at the same time be meaningful for fellow human beings who need more than a report and/or summons.
Fortunately, I found several like-minded colleagues at the Hague police. During our breaks at the immigration service, we met every week in the home of an asylum seeker from the Seychelles. There we exchanged our experiences and thoughts about the how and why in everyday life. These exchanges fitted in almost seamlessly with my own vision. This helped me in my performance, both in the police force and in my private life. These meetings were not only a relief, but also an encouragement to me that my view of things was not so strange. This in contrast to people who think they know in Christian and other religious cultures.
Even in my spare time, I continued to unintentionally provoke fellow believers in the church with my words and actions and joined that community’s initiative to lend a listening ear to those in need. The “Talk Out Line” became a fact with an office/sleeping place in Honselersdijk, where anyone in need within and outside the community could call 24/7. The only problem was that many, mainly pious words were spoken. In fact, nothing of practical action was visible. For example, there was a man addicted to alcohol who lived in a dirty house located on a dike near Schipluiden. Despite my best efforts to offer this man practical help, such as mediation in relocation, this was rejected as not feasible. It would be too dangerous for Christian society; their response was that offering the word from the Bible alone should be sufficient.
The result was that this man fell asleep while smoking under the influence of alcohol. His house caught fire, he was burned, and his house went up in smoke. Questions and discussions about this were unfortunately nipped in the bud. People, that is to say the church community, wanted to try to be as social as possible, but did not get any further than a lot of, mainly pious, talk. While sometimes or usually it takes more than that to actually help someone out of their problems.
Ultimately, it did not surprise me that there was no longer any opportunity for me personally to change the minds of people in the church, especially the leaders. It became more and more clear that I had to behave according to their wishes, or else I would face some kind of ecclesiastical ban. At that time, I also began to realize that there was in fact no future for me in that church community.
“Deeds, not words” is a nice slogan for football, but the church takes no interest in that. Practical Christianity has proven to be a far cry from my bed, unfortunately.
For that reason, I and my family of 3 children left this church, which was increasingly showing signs of being a sect. Theocratic leadership was the form that my brother Henk literally advocated. There was no other opinion than his own, which he stated in writing in 1984 to church members who criticized him. By the time I had been gone for several years, dozens of other members of that community followed suit in the same year, canceling their membership.
While still working at the police, I went to church with my family in an English-speaking community in Osdorp near Amsterdam. There I finally found a listening ear and understanding for my frustrations among people who call themselves Christians. The pastor of that community, Ed Ferguson, also provided a financial opportunity to turn my life around. I had been thinking about deepening my judicial knowledge by studying law for some time. Now a second option arose: to pursue a theological education to better substantiate my thinking about practical Christianity. With a gift from the USA, starting a theological education would be a lot less problematic. I made the choice to take on a completely new challenge outside the sphere of police and justice.
No sooner said than done; my career in the police as a chief constable came to an end in 1982. A new challenge as a theology student was around the corner.
CHAPTER 4. BETWEEN TWO PITFALLS
There I was, around 9 a.m. in front of the counter of the clothing warehouse of the Hague police. All kinds of things went through my mind. Is this the right step to take with a young family? I can still make another decision. I am now a chief police officer and there is much more in store for me. I felt very insecure and vulnerable for a moment. Many colleagues admired the step I took, but at the same time they also thought I was a bit crazy and they certainly did not think this was the most useful thing a person could do in their life.The warehouse door opened, and I pulled myself together. I handed in my uniform, my gun and all the other attributes you need as a cop. I saw the warehouse employee thinking: “What is driving that man, throwing away a career and his future?”Fortunately, I did receive a souvenir for all those years that I had served: a no longer in use corps shield.
It’s final now, I thought.
After completing all the formalities and signing the necessary documents, I went home. I looked back one more time at the contours of the police headquarters, where in recent years I had worked at the Aliens Service Department. It was quite emotional.
Yes, the first three months of my studies were financially successful. A donation of three thousand dollars had been made from the USA with the help of Ed Ferguson. This covered the first months of tuition fees, as well as room and board for me and my family.
However, my house in The Hague had not yet been sold. Fortunately, I had met a Turkish businessman at the Immigration Office who offered to arrange for my house to be rented or sold soon. The sale of the house turned out to only actually happen thirteen years later. I am still grateful to my Turkish friend, Sevcet Tasci, for selflessly taking care of my property in The Hague.
Another good thing was that I was able to receive a three-year interest-free loan from the province of South Holland, which would only have to be repaid after my studies. This was a great relief, as the purchase of textbooks for the next three years had now also been financed.
The first, biggest step had been taken. A reassuring thought was that if the study did not work out or if I regretted leaving the police, I could always return to my former employer within three months. Without applying for a job and other procedures, as stated in the written statement from the town hall of The Hague.
As an extra certainty in my pocket with the above, it was now a matter of packing, saying goodbye to the neighbors and heading to the theological training center in Zeist.
We were allocated four rooms in the institute’s dependency, so that we as a family could live independently. There were also other families in the dependency that we soon got in touch with, and our children also found friends among those families to play with in the large main building and the surrounding grounds.
To be insured against medical expenses, my then wife and I found a cleaning job for two hours a day in the evenings. That was very convenient, because the lectures started every working day from eight in the morning until noon. After that I would eat, study and start working as a cleaner at six o’clock in the evening. The first month took some getting used to, but we soon found our feet as a family.
Towards the end of the first month of September, I was summoned to the center’s financial director. I remember thinking as I walked into his office, “What is this? Everything has been paid until the end of November. “
Once in his office, he informed me that he had received a letter from a minister who strongly objected to my being admitted as a theology student. This should not have happened without his permission.
That minister turned out to be my own eldest brother Henk, who demanded that I be immediately blocked as a theology student. I was astonished and reacted as if stung by a wasp. “Can I continue my studies, or should I take measures to protect me and my family?” was my first reaction. And whether it was because the institute desperately needed my financial input as a student or because they really didn’t care about my eldest brother’s letter never became really clear to me. But the first warning light had started flashing. Be careful! Basically, I was very angry: who did my brother think he was? Does he really think he can exercise power over me? What kind of sectarian behavior is this?
This is how my first year of training began becoming a counselor. Fortunately, the exams went very well. Except for the classical languages. I have never been one to master another language with ease. And that was also the case with Hebrew, Latin and Greek. I scored moderately during my exams, but fortunately they were elective subjects, which did not affect my final result too much.
A major financial windfall came during the first academic year. An American TV minister, Jimmy Swaggert from Louisiana, was looking for a translator to convert English into Dutch. The then director of the training institute in Zeist also invited me to Antwerp to have a conversation with the second man of the Jimmy Swaggert World Ministries organization. Together with other candidates, including my theology teacher who had graduated with a master’s degree in that subject in the USA, we went to Antwerp under the motto: He who does not dare, does not win.
To my own astonishment, I was chosen to be the translator for the video recordings of the Jimmy Swaggert Ministries. These would be used for TV broadcasts in the Netherlands.
I jumped for joy in Belgium, because this work was well paid: four hundred dollars per script, of which at least four scripts had to be submitted per month. The dollar was worth almost four guilders per dollar! With this income we could immediately stop our cleaning work in the evenings and also take out health insurance. You can imagine seeing the dollar signs in my own eyes.
The money was good, the content of his sermons was less so: hell and damnation for anyone who thought differently or had a different sexual or political orientation. In the 1980s, he often proclaimed this message in the USA and also in South American countries where several dictators were in power, such as Pinochet in Chile.
After successfully completing the first year of my study, a second year followed with an internship in local churches. That’s how I ended up with another fellow student at the Filadelfia community in Apeldoorn. This was a very outdated community of about ten adults, half of whom were well over seventy. To my surprise, two young families with children were also affiliated with that church.
What I had also learned during my studies was to navigate between all kinds of religious beliefs. Above all, do not engage in discussions with the management of the training institute. Nor with the counselors who made that training possible. Very dangerous, especially for your career. “Do you believe in a natural Israel?” Always nod. “Are you expecting the reality of Armageddon?” Thoughtfully agree as well. This was the case with most major topics in the free churches. After all, the church is a loving community as long as you agree with their leadership. If not, you run the risk of being sidetracked, excluded or becoming persona non grata.
After all these alarm bells started ringing, I proceeded very cautiously to achieve my goal as an independent counselor. And this “independent” between quotation marks. Because after theological training you ended up under the umbrella of the Brotherhood, the national board of all local affiliated churches.
But all’s well that ends well, as far as my academic results were concerned. In my third and final year of training, I moved to Apeldoorn to become an assistant counselor in the same congregation where I had done my internship in the second year. This was unusual at the time. Normally you first had to graduate before you could become an assistant counselor.
Practically, this meant that in that third year I drove to Zeist every morning to attend lectures, then back again to study and build social and pastoral contacts in the Filadelfia community.
I was filled with joy when I completed my theological training after the third year.
That summer I was ordained as the new independently operating counselor of the Philadelphia church. Still with the same people as during my internship period, but now with a “comfortable” salary of five hundred guilders per month. I said yes to that, because I also had a fairly generous extra income from working for the Jimmy Swaggert Ministries. On average about two thousand guilders per month. Not entirely bad for a novice counselor.
This way I was able to buy my first good second-hand car. The last new car I was able to buy was when I was still working for the police.
The adventure had now really begun.
CHAPTER 5. THE DEFIANT PREACHER
Finally my hands are free, I thought.
With the help of an artistic youth group called Vorming in Actie (from the supporters of the Brotherhood), we started to make progress as a church. We opened a coffee bar for young people and performed street theatre. This attracted the attention of many young people in Apeldoorn, as well as many homeless people and addicts. Many of them eventually came to church on Sundays. The latter group regularly fell asleep during the service, much to the chagrin of some church members.
The need among addicts turned out to be quite great. I tried to arrange help for them in the country, but everywhere there were waiting lists of several months. Unfortunately, no immediate adequate help was available. After a few months, I finally decided, in consultation with my then wife, to take these people into our home myself and guide them to a different future. We had a fairly decent single-family home with a large attic available. This attic was soon filled with five to six addicts, many of whom kicked off cold turkey. We took care of them completely, for a contribution of twenty-five guilders per week.
Due to all the activities that were organized, the church community had grown from ten to a hundred adults, of whom about fifteen were addicted. Other members of the community also started receiving addicts in their homes.
Although sometimes it was not easy at all with all those help-seekers about the house, I did notice a practical result; it is possible to express love for our fellow man. Other people may think about it differently, but here in Apeldoorn it was actually experienced in everyday practice.
My vision on addiction care slowly but surely took shape. The problem was that not only the church community was growing, but also the demand for more placement options for addicts. For that reason, I also proposed a small change in policy to continue to accommodate these people. My idea was to renovate the church building and transform it into a crisis center for those seeking help. The meetings could then move to a community center elsewhere in Apeldoorn for Sunday services.
Seven drug rehabilitation rooms were created in the church building, as well as various office spaces for all other activities of the Philadelphia community. We also established the World Ministries foundation, which housed the media, music and translation departments of the Jimmy Swaggart Ministries.
Because everything grew so quickly, the need arose to set up our own foundation for addicts. This became SHEBA, the Apeldoorn Assistance and Guidance Foundation, in 1987, under my chairmanship as initiator and founder.
A fortunate circumstance was that a doctor had also joined our community, who first medically examined new addicts who were admitted, to make the best possible assessment of the withdrawal risks.
Together with others from the community and with the help of the bank, an outdoor center was purchased in Epe. We now had a total capacity of about fifty places to receive addicts, help them kick the habit and recover.
During this period my vision also continued to grow about a program that I would later develop into a total concept for addiction care.
In addition to a few passenger vans, we also had access to a large, although written-off, but well-functioning coach for transport to and from various activities in Epe and Apeldoorn. This also included trips abroad to Poland, Spain and England, for which motivated people in the program could register. These trips were used to deliver relief supplies, especially in Poland, which was still behind the Iron Curtain in 1988. Beforehand, there was intensive practice on theater/drama work that was performed on the streets there. The Evangelische Omroep made recordings of this, which were later broadcast on television.
Once a year, a holiday was organized on the island of Terschelling for the people in the shelter. This was intended to allow people in the shelter to get away for a while. This gave the staff members who remained behind some time to relax.
The whole thing was a busy but pleasant period in my life as a counselor. Satisfied faces among the people who finally received the help they had longed for. And encouraged staff members who were quite proud of what we had gotten off the ground together.
Yet there were also disappointing moments. Some for whom the desire for drugs proved too great, regularly ran away from the shelter. It was sometimes difficult for the staff members to digest, if a lot of energy and time has been invested in someone and it still failed to help this person. Even though it was the person’s own choice.
The extensive publicity in the country about SHEBA’s activities as part of the Philadelphia community attracted people from other churches. They wanted to participate in the dynamic events of the community, and I gave them the necessary opportunities to do so, as the workload only increased. Many of those people, who later joined the Philadelphia community, were assigned tasks as staff members and even as directors of SHEBA.
Looking back, I can say that some of those people were actually not well suited to become a staff member or director of SHEBA. It later turned out that they had already caused problems in other churches and that was why they left. In particular, the person who ultimately took over my position of director of SHEBA, turned out to be a notorious person with his own hidden agenda. This person, whom I will only refer to here by his first name Jan Pieter, started to raise concerns among the staff about the policy and workload, which caused more and more unrest.
I must admit that when he was appointed director, I ignored the necessary warnings about his person, partly because it would mean a reduction in my duties. I was looking forward to that reduction. Another factor was that I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, I could probably manage it. Not so! I was just naive about this, to think that all people have good intentions.
I spoke to him about him undermining things, after which he threw in the towel with a furious expression and left the Philadelphia community with much fanfare. Shortly afterwards he spoke to a generous donor of ours about the so-called mismanagement under my leadership. This donor then wrote an angry letter to the SHEBA board. In it he demanded his gift of one hundred thousand guilders back, because he no longer trusted us.
It will come as no surprise that the departure of Jan Pieter as director of SHEBA and the reaction of SHEBA’s major donor caused even more unrest in the community. But the damage had been done and was no longer so easy to combat.
During that period, the national board of the Brotherhood also found it desirable to take over the activities of the Jimmy Swaggert Ministries. I was asked to appear at the head office. The financial director of the Brotherhood, who also held the same position at the theological training center, said that it was not actually possible that a community like Filadelfia (in his words a village church) represented such a major global player as the Jimmy Swaggart Ministries in the Netherlands. I therefore told the man, whom I knew quite well, that I had personally been appointed as such by the Swaggart organization and that I had performed properly. This was evident from the fact that they flew me to Louisiana in the USA at their expense about thirty times during that period. During my time there, broadcasts on the TV 5 broadcaster in Amsterdam finally came into being. It turned out that Teun, as was the first name of the financial director, did not care. The Jimmy Swaggart Ministries had to and would be represented at a higher level, by the Brotherhood that is. The Brotherhood was concerned with international prestige and especially with the additional income from the translation work that came with that representation. They could use this well, as they almost always faced a lack of financial resources to get certain national activities off the ground. But the same applied to Philadelphia and that is why I had placed all proceeds from the Jimmy Swaggert Ministries there for several years. I told Teun that we would see about that.
I closed the door of the Brotherhood’s headquarters behind me. With again another problem, I drove to Apeldoorn, not knowing that this problem would eventually solve itself.
Less than a month later, Jimmy Swaggart himself became world news and was seen crying on Dutch television, confessing that he had allegedly sinned. He had sought sexual relaxation with women for payment. In consultation with the board of Filadelfia, I boarded a plane to investigate the state of affairs at the Jimmy Swaggart Ministries. My visit to the United States was extensively reported in the Algemeen Dagblad at the time.
In his church building with ten thousand people in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, I spoke some words of encouragement to the audience, that Christianity is a faith of forgiveness and is not about writing people off.
Despite this turbulent revelation from Swaggart himself, the board of the Jimmy Swaggert Ministries wanted to continue all activities, including worldwide broadcasts and the associated translations.
When I was back in the Netherlands, within a few weeks Jimmy Swaggart was in the news again with the same problem, only this time with a different prostitute.
As a result, the brotherhood’s board quickly lost its love for the Jimmy Swaggart Ministries. They have therefore taken no further steps to remove this from the Philadelphia community. What’s new under the sun? The church appears to function just like the world as a whole when it comes to money, influence and prestige.
It was now 1990 and therefore time again to go on holiday to Terschelling with the SHEBA shelter. This turned out to be a turbulent excursion. Halfway through this holiday I received a call from a representative of the Brotherhood on Terschelling with an urgent request to return to Apeldoorn immediately. It turned out that some members of the Philadelphia community had complained about me to the board. There had been unrest about the workload and financial problems. I explained to the representative that SHEBA was on holiday with about fifty people and that it was practically impossible to get to Apeldoorn quickly. I therefore asked him to postpone this meeting until the end of the week, when everything and everyone would be back. Naturally, I also shared this unrest among parishioners with the staff present on Terschelling.
I heard from a couple who had stayed behind as SHEBA staff at the outdoor center in Epe that the complaining members of the Filadelfia community were actually supported by the former director of SHEBA, Mr. Jan Pieter. The latter had also submitted far-reaching proposals behind my back, to bring SHEBA under his leadership and reduce it to a much smaller group of people who needed help. The outdoor center in Epe should also be sold according to his proposal.
Then I received another call from the same representative of the Brotherhood with the ultimatum to come to Apeldoorn immediately, that is to say that same day, as the conversation could no longer be postponed. It was coming now or else big problems for me personally.
I could sense the latter, given the authoritarian attitude of the Brotherhood. In the most favorable case, I would end up under the guardianship of the Brotherhood, whereby everything would be decided for me. In the worst-case scenario, I would be removed as pastor. The Brotherhood is dragging its knives, mainly because I had become too big in their eyes and would have too much power within the Brotherhood’s affiliated churches.
I couldn’t let that happen. After all, I didn’t give up my police career for that. Over the years, the Brotherhood had developed into a theocratic organization with a board like Theo (God) himself. A dictatorship that completely disregarded the principle of audi alteram partem (adversial procedure). I could not and did not want to live, let alone function, under such an autocratic dictatorship.
With the staff present on Terschelling and also in consultation with the staff remaining in Epe, I proposed to continue independently from SHEBA under a new foundation. The staff members on Terschelling and some staff members in Epe thought this was a good idea, given the circumstances.
The discord, the schism, was a fact! Not an easy step with all the feelings and thoughts that came with it, but a necessary one.
A new home was quickly sought and found at a campsite in Beekbergen, near Apeldoorn. After another telephone conversation, I also informed the representative of the Brotherhood that our ways were going to part. In the following weekend, the holidaymakers from Terschelling arrived back in Epe, where the people who went to the new foundation in Beekbergen packed their things and left for their new shelter the same evening. In Epe we were waved goodbye by the former director of SHEBA, the troublemaker Jan Pieter.
That Sunday morning, I picked up my things from the office in Apeldoorn, including my personal library that I had housed there. I now really started to function as an independent counselor from my own home. The split was a definitive fact, but the new foundation, which we called De Schakel, was also born.
CHAPTER 6. CAMPING LIFE
Emotionally the split was not easy. People with whom you spent years stayed behind in the Philadelphia community. People who had given their heart and soul to all kinds of activities, including SHEBA.
However, the dictatorial regime of the Brotherhood made it impossible to talk in a normal way about anything, let alone to find a dialogue. And I haven’t even mentioned what that would have meant for me in my role as a pastor. My vision would not have remained intact, because the Brotherhood had a much more traditional orthodox way of church life in mind. It would mean being pious and that would give you peace, so they thought.
There was not much time to dwell on all these matters, thoughts and emotions.
In the meantime, the notary had already prepared the statutes for the new foundation for us. These were signed on the Monday after our return home to Epe. Also ratified that day was the one-month rental contract for a shared accommodation at the campsite in Beekbergen for the reception of addicts. In addition, the new church community De Rots was statutorily established by me and others at the same notary.
The remaining staff that had come with us were divided into rosters to be available 24/7 in the new foundation De Schakel.
It was not much, because the accommodation was far from adequate for our purposes. The catering was arranged immediately that Monday by two female staff members, who put together the menus, did the purchasing and ensured that everything went reasonably well during cooking for the group of approximately 15 people in the shelter.
That same day I also had a meeting with the Social Services of the municipality of Apeldoorn, in order to secure the benefits of the people being cared for. It helped that I already had those contacts in SHEBA with both the lawyer and the Social Services of Apeldoorn. No unnecessary luxury, since almost everyone who entered De Schakel had to go to the Social Services for their benefits, with the exception of those who were placed with us by the justice department under article 47 of the Code of Criminal Procedure and those who received benefits from the UWV. The former lawyer of
SHEBA was approached to now assist the new foundation in case people in the shelter had to go to court.
The rest of that week we were busy with guiding the people and finding meaningful activities in and around the campsite where we were staying. New bank accounts had to be opened as well as finding a good bookkeeper/accountant who would manage the financial aspects of De Schakel.
The first month of the new foundation we worked until late in the evening to ensure that everything ran smoothly, such as designing new intake forms, making standardized shopping lists, finding a general practitioner, dentist and pharmacy, developing effective guidance with the administration related to it, and so on.
After pending two weeks at the campsite, it soon became clear that we had to look for better accommodation for De Schakel. This was eventually found at a recreation park in Hoenderloo. We were able to move to six stone bungalows for our guests, each with its own kitchenette and sufficient sleeping places.
After four weeks we moved from Beekbergen to Hoenderloo. De Schakel did not yet have its own van for this transport, so everything was done with the private cars of the staff members.
In the meantime, I also began to realize that the decision to break with SHEBA, Filadelfia and the umbrella organization of the Brotherhood, had turned out to be a good thing. No longer having to sail between all kinds of religious cliffs, no longer having to meet imposed external standards and values. Just being a normal person again, among ordinary people, who do not have so many pretensions. Accepting each other again as we are, without the often instructive finger of a fellow believer, who thinks that certain things are not allowed, such as smoking. Most addicts smoked where possible in the shelter. Certain strong words were also definitely not appreciated by the very religious. In this way, they tried to impose their civilization on the fellow human beings they had taken in, but this did not stick within. All too often, it did not lead to a real inner change of the person.
The staff members who had come along and I were now free to be just people among people, addicted or not. This, therefore, without a moralizing, corrective behavior towards each other. That realization made me happy and underlined the correctness of my choice.
Even though we had not yet gotten around to public relations to increase the name recognition of De Schakel, new people with addiction problems were already coming in during that period. Because of this and because the single-brick walls of the bungalows we rented did not exactly keep out the cold and damp, we decided after six weeks to start looking again for a better location for our shelter work. We found another campsite in Beekbergen willing to rent all the summer houses to us, about ten of them. There was a large detached Finnish bungalow at the front of that campsite. This bungalow could serve as a shared meeting room and had three rooms that could function as an office.
This was truly an improvement and exactly what we needed at that time; growth opportunities, better housing for the guests, a separate entrance at the Finnish bungalow and office space, so that the staff members and I no longer had to work from our private homes.
The contract was signed without hesitation and could be extended every year. A good deal for the campsite owner, but also for De Schakel.
Thanks to this new permanent and well-equipped accommodation, we were finally able to continue to develop as a foundation in a quiet way after two and a half months. In addition, two more minibuses were purchased for transporting the guests to the weekly sports events in a sports hall in Apeldoorn. This meant that, among other things, the supplies for the shelter houses could now be done more easily and effectively.
In the large office, the groceries and other items were divided per house and menu lists were made for an entire week. These items were collected by the house elder, who was appointed per shelter.
The weekly guidance discussions with the guests could now be done in a quiet environment by the staff members.
Some of the camping residents staying there spontaneously offered their help to support the foundation financially and sometimes also practically. Remarkable, because these residents of that camping turned out to be more tolerant than the Filadelfia community. I saw it happen with joy. Apparently, the buzz about De Schakel spread throughout the Netherlands, without any real publicity. New requests for assistance were now coming in weekly. New staff members from outside De Schakel from Hoenderloo and other cities, such as Rotterdam, signed up to become involved with De Schakel.
During that period, I also felt the need to acquire more knowledge in order to shape De Schakel better and to develop a balanced structure that could withstand a scientific test.
In 1994 I therefore started studying General Theology at the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, to graduate in the specialization Practical Theology under the supervision of Professor Dr. Gerben Heitink.
In the meantime, De Schakel had outgrown itself again in three years. About fifty people were accommodated at the campsite, some of whom wanted to work on the staff as an expert by experience after their program. They were assigned to the roster of 24/7 available staff members, which at the same time was a welcome relief for the staff members who had been working there for a longer period. Addicts with an Antillean background also started to report for help. Most of them already lived in the Netherlands, but this later turned out to have a snowball effect regarding people seeking help from the Antilles themselves. We were really full, and I wanted to avoid having to work with waiting lists at all costs. So, there was only one thing to do. Find another, larger accommodation. I found one, nearby in the woods of Beekbergen; the former site of De Kuil, as it was known, was put up for sale. A place that also had the destination of healthcare on eleven hectares of land. Many offices, a sports hall, a large workshop, a canteen with a professional kitchen and a wet room for the laundry. The asking price was 2.2 million guilders. We didn’t have that, so I went to the bank to see what was possible. They did a lot of calculating on the financial picture that I had presented them together with our external accountant. The bank gave the green light, but when the date of December 1994 came into view, several staff members started to object to this purchase. Among them was a staff member and his wife, who were also involved in SHEBA and were also on Terschelling at the time, when the break with Filadelfia took place. They and a few other new staff members found the financial risk too great and preferred to stay at the campsite. This would mean that there would be no private land in sight and that waiting lists would start to form. This was unacceptable to me. I therefore gave that group a choice: either go along with it or leave. I have to be honest, that if they left (and they did), I would also be rid of an extramarital relationship. Not nice perhaps, but that way I could kill two birds with one stone. Apparently, nothing human is alien to me. Moreover, I was no longer bothered by fundamentalist beliefs among the staff members. With this, the last fundamentalist had also left. The other staff members who also left tried to set up their own shelter and took a few people from the shelter of De Schakel with them.
However, we had to talk to the bank again, because the man who did the internal financial management of De Schakel had also resigned. After an intense discussion with the bank and our accountant about the financial feasibility of the De Schakel project, a go was fortunately given again. The accountant of De Schakel freed up someone from his office to also keep track of and book the internal financial affairs, including the income from the third-party account of the people in the shelter.
At the end of December, the transfer of the De Kuil site was notarized, so that we could move in at our leisure in January 1995. The kitchen and office inventory, as well as the telephone system and the fire safety system were included in the sales price. A nice bonus.
De Schakel could now develop further as a professional organization in a permanent location, where, given the capacity in the buildings, growth was possible to one hundred and fifty people who could be accommodated. A new future dawned!
CHAPTER 7. A TURBULENT YEAR
The year 1995 started well. The VVD alderman of the municipality of Apeldoorn wanted to speak to me. In no uncertain terms he let me know that he did not like the fact that De Schakel had bought the De Kuil site. I subtly reminded him that the zoning plan could not prevent our arrival at that location. However, this alderman promised to do everything he could to thwart us.
With that in mind, I returned home. This conversation, if you could even call it a conversation, lasted about fifteen minutes at most. It later turned out that this alderman had personal interests in the immediate vicinity of our new site. In his view, accommodating addicts there could harm these interests.
But anyway. A lot still had to be arranged, such as the relocation of the campsite to the new accommodation, the purchase of sufficient beds for all the people in the shelter and the adaptation of the sports hall on the new site to a meeting space. With the help of the remaining staff members and the people in the shelter itself, this job was completed in a few weeks. The real work had only just begun. Positions had to be filled that were not necessary before at the campsite. An intake office was needed for the new registrations, staff members for the new crisis centre where addicts could physically detox after arrival, management for the now central kitchen and dining room, people who could do the laundry for the entire centre, and so on.
The general practitioner of Beekbergen could no longer be used as such. For him it simply meant too many patients extra. I had an advertisement placed to attract a specialised addiction physician, who would have to be paid by De Schakel. Fortunately, that physician was quickly found, and the internal medical service became a fact.
Due to the departure of the necessary staff members in December, it also became clear that these vacancies had to be filled quickly. Due to all the publicity, the buzz had also reached several colleges, which were looking for internships for some of their students. After discussing this, I was appointed as the supervisor of these students. This way, part of the need for new staff members was met. Some of these students did not want to leave after their internship and became full-time staff members.
So far, so good, you would think. If it weren’t for the fact that my wife felt the need to run off with someone who was still in the program. On May 4, 1995, at 9:00 in the morning, she told me in my office that she wanted a divorce and that she would leave for the west of the country that same day. Twenty-four years of marriage were over in one fell swoop. I felt numb. I could no longer function properly and was absent from De Schakel for about three months. I am still grateful to the staff for how well they took care of things during my absence.
While sitting at home, I wrote letters to my ex-wife to persuade her to return and try to make a new start. I also confessed to her in those letters about my extramarital affair. I shouldn’t have done that last one. It turned out that my letters to her were forwarded to the Apeldoornse Courant. The journalists from that newspaper paid me a visit when I had resumed my work at De Schakel. That resulted in a fairly negative publication by De Schakel, especially about me as a person.
As if that wasn’t enough, the bank then also put its two cents in. Apparently, the bank saw dangers for the continuity of De Schakel. They therefore demanded that I resign as chairman of De Schakel, so that they could have more control over the financial ins and outs of the foundation. I didn’t have much choice and so I resigned as chairman. A staff member of De Schakel took over my position on the board.
Because of all these negative reports, De Schakel got into financial difficulties. The number of new registrations to be admitted to De Schakel decreased considerably. As a result, the repayments to the bank could no longer be made on time. The water was up to the well-known neck, and I saw my life’s work go up in smoke, just when we could give it more substance.
Of course, the news of my escapades with another woman had also reached the west of the country. And so my eldest brother Henk, in his capacity as minister, thought it was time to also put his two cents in. He wrote a letter to me that was copied to other church leaders in the country. The contents of this letter were not to be sneezed at. He would have preferred to see me washed away down the drain, but hey, he is not the worst. The gist of the letter was that he was open to receiving me back in grace. But only if I returned to his community of believers. It was not until much later in 2017 that I felt the need to respond to this digitally on my website and make it clear to everyone.
But here too, a blessing in disguise. A well-known relation of mine might know an investor who was interested in the site and buildings of De Schakel. Fortunately, this investor was also interested. He visited us, that is the directors of De Schakel and myself, together with his accountant. That same evening, he decided to do business with us. The mortgage at De Schakel’s bank was bought off and we were assigned a new bank, that of the investor in question. This financial transition also meant that De Schakel had to pay thousands of guilders less rent every month in relation to the repayment of the mortgage at the former bank.
This way, a more than difficult year, both in business and private, was still concluded positively. De Schakel was now finally able to develop further into a professional organisation after having been in dire straits for about ten months. As for me, I too was able to get back to work with renewed strength. I was able to write off the divorce in letters to my ex and could now face the world again as a single person, so to speak.
Everything had found its place in me and also with De Schakel.
CHAPTER 8. BEYOND THE TURBULENCE
After the calm had returned to the center one of the first things I did was to set up a PR department. It consisted of three people who had already been in the recovery programme for quite some time. They had a good command of the Dutch language and found it a challenge to get this off the ground. After drawing up the guidelines, they got to work with great enthusiasm. For example, members of the House of Representatives were invited to come and take a look at our site to learn about our approach to addiction care.
Many of them responded, including Agnes Kant of the SP. She was very interested and asked the necessary critical questions, I remember. This delegation of members of parliament who visited our new site was a great boost for the work we were doing.
As is customary, we also received a visit from the Apeldoorn fire brigade to check the alarm system in all housing and other fire safety requirements that De Schakel had to meet. Fortunately, everything was approved. However, during an inspection by the Food and Commodities Authority, the problem arose that the central kitchen no longer met all the requirements. This was a major setback. Fortunately, I was able to present this problem to our landlord, the investor from Apeldoorn. The latter immediately got to work and had the entire kitchen with the existing equipment transformed until the requirements were met, including a cast floor without seams. And all that without any rent increase or additional conditions.
The roof of the kitchen and dining room also had to be tackled. The investor supplied the materials, and the roof was completely covered with new bituminous roofing. This was done by people from the shelter, who had also worked for a roofing company in the past.
Since I do not have eternal life on earth like anyone else, I also started thinking about who my successor should be if I would for one reason or another fall away as the driving force in De Schakel. The developments within De Schakel almost automatically provided the solution. More and more applications were coming from the Netherlands Antilles to be accommodated. All this in addition to the regular supply from the Netherlands itself. Because of this unforeseen influx, especially from Curaçao, I made an appointment with the director of the Antilles House in The Hague. The latter arranged appointments on Sint Maarten, Bonaire and Curaçao to streamline the influx of candidates from the Antilles.
So, I left with two Antillean experts by experience to the three islands mentioned.
On Sint Maarten and Bonaire there appeared to be little to no possibilities for better coordination. However, on Curaçao, after a conversation with the Minister of Public Health there, there appeared to be possibilities to make the influx run more smoothly. An Antillean was found who was willing to function as coordinator for the new foundation on Curaçao. During a subsequent trip to this island, the notarial deed was signed and a new Antillean foundation De Schakel was a fact.
This way, dozens of Antillean aid seekers were admitted to De Schakel in the Netherlands each year. Due to all these developments, the director of the Antilles House introduced me to an Antillean aid worker who had also studied theology. As such, that person was hired as a leading staff member for both the Antilles and the Netherlands. In him I initially saw my successor within De Schakel. Later I did have some reservations about that, because this man had quite a few Christian fundamentalist thoughts. And that was a thought pattern that I was glad to be rid of. And one thing was certain, if I was succeeded by someone, it certainly would not be by someone with extremist views and/or moralizing statements that everyone should comply with. So, the search for an adequate successor was not yet completed but had actually just begun.
Among the many volunteers who wanted to support De Schakel in their available time, there was one who completely abused the leeway given to him. In the one month that he worked as a volunteer with us, he managed to embezzle and sell all the telephones on the upper area where the workshops were. Of course, he was not exactly welcome after that. A report was filed with no positive outcome at all. Later, this man turned out to be a master at spreading all kinds of rumours about De Schakel and myself; he said there was a trade in firearms and drugs. And yes, prostitution was also practiced, and I made a lot of money from that, was one of his other fabrications. Fortunately, this did not cause any direct damage to me and De Schakel, but it did a few years later.
Another obstacle that presented itself was the constant complaints from some neighbours of De Schakel about noise pollution caused by the gatherings in the former sports hall. They were very bothered by it, although music was never played after 22:00. The decibel meter of the municipality of Apeldoorn determined that the whole thing remained within acceptable standards. Nevertheless, those neighbours played it to a higher level. The Council of State in the Netherlands had to make a final judgment. Thanks to the passionate plea of our lawyer, the Council of State ruled in favour of De Schakel and the complainants had to pay all the costs of this lawsuit.
My studies at the theological faculty of the Vrije Universiteit went well. I easily obtained my propaedeutic certificate, which meant that the second phase, the post-propaedeutic certificate, could begin.
As a bachelor, I rewarded myself during that period with a two-week holiday in Cuba. A beautiful island with very friendly, hospitable people. All this despite their enormous poverty and a lack of almost everything.
Compared to the previous year, 1996 turned out to be a quiet year. The medical staff could be expanded with a second addiction physician from Rotterdam and could be supported by two nurses, who greatly reduced the workload of the physicians. No unnecessary luxury, since De Schakel had grown to accommodate around a hundred people.
The year was concluded with a Christmas celebration where everyone was invited to join in the delicious meal that was served. De Schakel had grown and become stronger than ever before. This created the need to start putting policy rules and the like into protocols. That is how I started writing the business approach with all kinds of instructions for staff members, medical staff and experience experts. The outcome was signed by the board of the foundation.
On to the new year with all kinds of new developments!
CHAPTER 9. BAHAMA BREEZE
Despite all the effort and struggle it took to get De Schakel to where it was, it was more than worth it. Seeing people change and stabilize with a renewed sense of purpose is, for me at least, the most beautiful thing there is. Even though there were enough examples of people who sought help in De Schakel and then decided to walk away from that same safe environment. Some of them fell back into the addiction scene they came from. Others were later found dead in a building or once on the highway between Arnhem and Apeldoorn. These are the consequences of addiction and wrong choices, you could say. Yet it still hurts, even now that I think about it after so many years, writing this down.
But life goes on, also for those who were friends with the victims of such events. It also motivated me to get up at six o’clock every day, to give some encouraging thoughts to the guests in the shelter at half past seven at De Schakel after breakfast. Then to my office to have talks and to give direction to the medical service and other staff members who needed it. Then I spent the remaining time on counseling conversations with about fifteen guest of the shelter, who I had assigned to myself. At least one conversation with these people every week. The rest of the guests were divided among the other staff members who, like me, had their hands full with this task.
I had enough to do. My work did not stop on Friday, but also continued during the weekend and sometimes at night when I was called for some calamity. As a single person you at least have something to do.
Tired, but also satisfied, I returned home around six o’clock in the evening to prepare my hot meal. I had no talent for cooking (and still don’t) so it was often macaroni or an often burnt piece of meat. To this day I have not mastered the art of cooking.
During that period, I had fallen in love again with a spontaneous, sweet and beautiful woman, but I did not really want to admit that to myself. Unfortunately, she lived far away from me in the west of the country. She was the daughter of the man my mother moved in with after my father died. During my holiday in Cuba in 1996, I spontaneously sent her a postcard.
One day, my elderly mother invited me to go to my middle brother’s 25th wedding anniversary, just outside Amsterdam in Velzen. Despite the busy schedule at De Schakel, I was happy to make time for this, especially because my secret love would also be coming along. We agreed that I would take them there by car.
Things got even better when my mother asked in the car if I wanted to go to the USA with her and Caroline to visit a relative, her cousin Frans, in Florida. Without any hesitation, I said yes.
Caroline would arrange the tickets that my mother would pay for. We had some telephone contact about which airport was best to land at in Florida. When Caroline called, the conversation couldn’t last long enough. I slowly began to realize that I felt more and more attracted to her.
That spontaneous trip to Florida was planned in April 1997. We, my mother, Caroline and I, were waved goodbye at Schiphol by almost the entire family and some staff members of De Schakel.
For my mother it was a special trip. It was the first time she had flown, and she did not sleep a wink during the entire nine-hour journey, just enjoying the view together with Caroline. I had a nice whisky on the plane and then fell asleep.
After landing at Orlando airport, we picked up the booked rental car. After some searching, we finally arrived in Saint Augustine in the north of Florida, where Frans lived in a detached bungalow. It was already getting dark.
In order not to impose myself on Caroline during this trip, the initial plan was that after the first weekend with Frans, I would get on a plane to Baton Rouge in Louisiana. I would visit some acquaintances there from my time at the Jimmy Swaggart Ministries. Caroline and my mother would stay with Frans for those three weeks, after which I would pick them up again to start the return journey to the Netherlands.
However, this plan changed that same evening. It turned out that his cat Poetsie was not completely free of fleas and his entire house was covered in them. Caroline and my mother were no longer really keen on spending three weeks among Poetsie’s happily jumping friends. I therefore suggested cancelling my trip to Louisiana and instead taking a trip by car through Florida together. A blessing in disguise, I would say. I could now legitimately stay in Caroline’s vicinity for much longer without it being noticed too much.
And so we did. The next day after breakfast we left Saint Augustine to slowly descend south.
At the end of the first day, we stopped at a motel where we booked our first overnight stay. We poured an alcoholic drink that we had bought on the way. Unfortunately, there was no ice available. No problem for me, but my mother really wanted a block of ice in her drink.
My mother did not speak English, but that was no obstacle to her. She approached the owner of the motel and started to make clear with her hands and feet what she wanted. She underlined everything with only Dutch words. Funnily enough, she managed to get what she asked for.
One evening we went for a bite to eat and after to enjoy a drink at the bar. At the bar my mother got flirty with an American who kept talking to her. She didn’t understand a word of it, but it was funny to see that my mother understood his intentions.
We had a good laugh about it afterwards.
During the trip I became increasingly fond of Caroline. We visited several amusement parks together and at the Sea Aquarium I tried to give her a nice T-shirt as a present. Despite my insistence she kept rejecting it and that further fuelled the virus of love in me.
In the meantime, we travelled back north along the other coast of Florida. On the way we bought tickets for the Disney parks and booked a motel in Orlando. We thoroughly enjoyed all the spectacle. Caroline and I especially enjoyed the Tower of Terror and went there several times.
On the last evening in Orlando Caroline and I went for a drink at a bar/restaurant called the Bahama Breeze. Outside by the fireplace we got into a serious and deep conversation. I didn’t propose to her directly but asked her to think about it. She would do that. When we got back to the motel, the first real kiss in the car was a fact. After a wonderful and unforgettable night, we decided to get married as soon as possible. My mother was the first to hear it, but she seemed to know it already.
When we got back to the Netherlands, we were met by a large part of the family. In Wateringen, where my mother lived at the time, our intended marriage was announced to the world. Many were surprised, some expressed their concerns about it, and a few were downright hostile. One of their arguments was that you could not remarry as a divorced man. They quoted statements from the Vatican and a daughter of my oldest brother said as a variation on that, that this was not biblically justified. What a clique, what hypocrites, as if those kinds of beliefs make a person happy. Nothing could be further from the truth!
Back at De Schakel, everything turned out to have gone well. New people who asked for help had been taken in and the harmony on site was one to kiss. There too I announced the plans to get married.
And on September 3, 1997, this became a fact. First at the town hall in Apeldoorn where my mother and two of my children signed as our witnesses of this joyful event. Then the church blessing in the evangelical community De Rots located on site of De Schakel.
All our friends, including my former police chief and his wife, and family were invited to attend the reception and at the same time enjoy a delicious Hindustani rice table, which had been organized by a colleague of Caroline from The Hague. The whole thing was carried by the sounds of the Antillean Trio Tamico’s, to whose music we danced with great delight.
The guests and us had enjoyed this festive day, including the people who had been taken in at De Schakel. They were all part of the festivities too.
In the early hours of the morning, Caroline and I were driven to our home in Apeldoorn by our Antillean driver for this day.
Our honeymoon started early the next day. On September 4, we were woken up by loud banging at half past four in the morning by my then son-in-law, who had to drop us off at Schiphol on time. Half asleep Caroline and I were put on the plane to Jamaica to start our journey.
We landed at Montego Bay airport, where we had booked an apartment. We needed to do some shopping and decided to do it in a nearby shopping center. We drove there with our rental car. When we returned from shopping, the left front tire of the car turned out to be flat. While we were inspecting the flat tire, several men came to us, wanting to change the tire for us. This smelled of intent, but because we didn’t want to make a fuss, we let them change the tire. After they changed the tire, we got into our car, but then it started. They wanted to see money and started threatening us. I stayed calm, but after a while of talking back and forth, Caroline had had enough. She leaned over me, cloed the window with one hand on my side with almost a Jamaican’s hand in between and with the other hand she pressed the horn very hard. As quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared. I hit the gas, and we were gone. How proud was I of my new wife. Not only beautiful, but also one with temperament.
We also found a fair amount of cockroaches in our apartment, but that seemed to be part of it.
All in all, we had a wonderful three weeks on this beautiful island, but we did skip Kingston Town. According to the stories, it was even more criminal than Montego Bay. Incidentally, most of the inhabitants of Jamaica were very friendly and helpful, but some hotspots are better to be avoided.
Back from our honeymoon, we picked up our normal rhythm again. The day started at six o’clock with putting Caroline on the train to The Hague to work in the hospital. Then for me the rituals of the day, to finally pick Caroline up at eight o’clock in the evening at the station in Apeldoorn. After that we had dinner together and quickly went to bed, because the next day she had to get up early again.
She kept up this back-and-forth travel for about nine months to finally go to work in the Weezenlanden hospital in Zwolle. Fortunately, that made it all less intensive and easier to do for both of us.
Bahama Breeze had brought Caroline and me an unforgettable new life. After all those years I could not be happier. A new wind blew through my life with trust and hope, with an unimaginable amount of love in its wake; a real genuine Bahama Breeze.
CHAPTER 10. A STORM IS COMING
The new year started promisingly. Via the intake bureau we received many new registrations of people who were placed in the crisis center, in preparation for the actual program.
We considered expanding internal projects to teach people new skills. Several staff members were therefore sent to England to gain knowledge for a new project that was to be started, which consisted of breeding worms for recreational fishing. The intention was that the worms would be sold to the fishing associations.
Upon returning, work was immediately started on making concrete tanks to breed the worms. However, a neighbor complained to the municipality of Apeldoorn. He thought that we were not allowed to breed worms there without a permit. Unfortunately, the municipality of Apeldoorn put a stop to this. Setbacks make you strong, they say.
During that period, we were also able to add an external specialist in the form of a psychologist to our staff. With the arrival of this professional, the staff was fully strengthened and, more importantly, stable. The turnover of medical staff, counselling staff and experience experts had never been so low, namely zero.
The fleet was renewed with lease vans, which allowed the second-hand vans to be sold. A big plus in terms of safety in transport.
A professional chef had already been hired. The only thing that still needed attention was the appointment of a purchasing manager for the kitchen. This presented itself in the person of my middle brother, who was hired that year. He also ensured that the HACCP requirements of the Food and Consumer Product Safety Authority were properly implemented.
In the meantime, our investor had also provided two large professional washing machines. This allowed the entire laundry of De Schakel and its residents to be processed in one go each week.
An old SRV van was also converted and painted to serve as a so-called Soup Bus for the homeless in Apeldoorn. Once a week, the staff members went to the centre of Apeldoorn with this van to provide a hot meal to anyone who needed one. All internal projects, such as major and minor maintenance of the buildings, garden and forest maintenance, the zoo with pigs, chickens, goats and the like, as well as the administrative support, were now functioning to full satisfaction.
De Schakel was about to be filled with people seeking help again.
During that period, the staff also felt the need to do something for our fellow human beings in the Ukraine. After months of preparation, we finally decided to support an orphanage in the south of the Ukraine with construction and renovation activities. That summer, two vans and a passenger car full of building materials and about sixteen guests from De Schakel, led by the head of the technical department, set off to work on this project for about six weeks. Everyone returned satisfied with many new experiences in a culture that was certainly quite different from the Netherlands at the time. The whole thing can be called very successful and worth repeating.
In consultation with our investor, I made plans to build new constructions on the upper site, which at the time consisted mainly of forest land. This allowed De Schakel to grow to around three hundred and fifty beds.
After the financial picture for this idea had been approved by the investor and myself, the assignment went to an architect in Zutphen to work out a few things on paper. As often happens, these plans were leaked to the Municipality of Apeldoorn. They were not at all keen on such an expansion and therefore secretly convened a meeting to change the zoning plan of the land of De Schakel. The current zoning plan of the land had been determined as being designated for public health care. The Municipality of Apeldoorn wanted to change this to exclusively residential, so that they could block the expansion plans of De Schakel. This could be a setback for De Schakel.
Our drawings of the new building were therefore completed by the architect as quickly as possible and submitted at the end of this secret meeting of the Municipality of Apeldoorn, in the evening. At a much later stage, a judge would make a ruling on this.
About halfway through that year, together with the chairman of the De Schakel Foundation, I submitted a proposal to the Vrije Universiteit. Under the leadership of Professor Gerben Heitink, head of the Faculty of Practical Theology and Professor Heimen Stoffels of the Sociology department, an independent scientific investigation would be conducted into the working methods and effectiveness of the De Schakel reception centre. The costs involved amounted to around two hundred thousand guilders. This amount had to be raised through fundraising and possibly other sources from the Vrije Universiteit itself. A new project to start working on.
In the meantime, the GGZ had also started an investigation to examine the medical service of De Schakel. At a later stage, a full report would be published with possible recommendations for improving the whole. The board of De Schakel and I, as director, warmly welcomed this investigation.
What was experienced as less positive was the working method of the Social Services of the Municipality of Apeldoorn. Around September 1998 it turned out that the benefits of the people in the shelter were received by De Schakel with a delay. This deliberately initiated delay eventually amounted to three months or more. This meant that the financial budget weave all loose ends into a noose was in great danger. The delay of the Social Services was done without any form of consultation, while they have a legal obligation to arrange the benefits in the short term for everyone who is entitled to it. How reliable is the, in this case, local government? But it would become much worse.
Much later it would turn out that the Social Services had been secretly informed by the municipal police of Apeldoorn about an impending arrest of several employees of De Schakel. Later it turned out that it concerned myself, as well as my middle brother who worked for De Schakel. Because this was not visible to me at that time, we had to compensate for the lost deferred income of De Schakel.
On the one hand, I was able to generate more gifts for De Schakel with the help of a retired chicken farmer. The latter had many contacts in the poultry industry and so a plan was made to start an external work project in a chicken slaughterhouse. This way, people in the shelter who were interested in working there, could be employed in the chicken slaughterhouse. They gained the necessary experience, as well as a work rhythm. Every day, they were transported to and from the slaughterhouse. For each person who was employed in that project, the management of the slaughterhouse paid approximately eleven hundred guilders per person in the form of a gift. Everything was therefore legitimate and legally well arranged. Good for De Schakel, but also for the slaughterhouse that was in urgent need of workers who were almost impossible to find.
Due to all these developments, certain cutbacks also had to be considered to absorb the damage caused by the delaying actions of the Social Service. One of those cutbacks was postponing the employment of experienced experts who had completed their program and wanted to continue working for De Schakel. They did, however, keep their allowance. Also in the context of energy consumption, the necessary cutbacks were found.
In the number of trips to Curaçao for the board members of De Schakel and myself, the necessary cutbacks could be made. Fortunately, on my last trip to this island in September 1998, I was able to celebrate our wedding anniversary with my wife, with a delicious meal in the restaurant of Fort Nassau. It was an unforgettable evening with a beautiful view. Of course, only the business part of the trip was paid for by De Schakel.
Personally, I had a very uneasy feeling about all these developments, especially about the delaying actions of the Social Services. At that time, it could not be explained, but in the following year it could.
Dark clouds, indeed. A harbinger of what was still to come for me and others in De Schakel. A devastating storm was about to unleash itself.
CHAPTER 11. THE CURTAIN FALLS
The year 1999 apparently started calmly and prosperously. Many new registrations from the Netherlands and the Netherlands Antilles came in. However, the problem of the many delayed payments of the benefits of the people who were admitted continued. That is not exactly good progress, but De Schakel had more or less managed to adapt in this area with, among other things, more paid external work experience projects.
The first months passed by without any notable incidents. My wife and I therefore decided to take a break in April and go on holiday. When we returned to the Netherlands, everything at De Schakel appeared to have continued as normal. No special developments.
Then on May 18 1999 at around six o’clock in the morning there was a loud banging on the shutters of our house in Apeldoorn. It turned out to be uniformed police. The dog brigade was at the back and front of our house and about six men at the front door. Without any explanation, I was arrested and, after I had dressed in the presence of a police officer, taken to the main police station in Apeldoorn.
I was able to instruct my wife to inform De Schakel and our lawyer about my arrest. Fortunately, I remained calm, but it is humiliating to be dragged from your bed in this way by former colleagues. As if you were some dangerous criminal with a firearm. If the police had summoned me to the police station, I would have simply come. After all, I had and have nothing to hide. They could have arrested me there at that station. But no, it had to be this way. A form of abuse of power and intimidation? In my opinion, yes.
After a few hours in a cell at the police station, an assistant prosecutor told me what I had been arrested for. It turned out to be about reports made by three people regarding rape and sexual abuse of minors. I was facing a maximum prison sentence of about twelve years. I later learned that my two brothers had also been arrested for almost the same reasons in Apeldoorn and in Wateringen near The Hague. Even though the police had consulted an expert in the case of one of the complainants from Apeldoorn, who had already indicated in his investigation that the complainant and his father were working with a hidden agenda.
Another report came from the west of the country. However, the police there did not have an expert investigate the report. They should have done so, in accordance with the National Expertise Group on Special Sexual Offences. This is an expert group that was set up in the past to protect wrongly accused persons. This way, false reports could be filtered out at an early stage. The Apeldoorn police did comply. However, the police in The Hague did not. And that was not only negligent, but also very strange. Especially since the Public Prosecutor in charge of my case also referred the entire flow of reports against me to the public prosecutor’s office in The Hague. This way the Apeldoorn police and Zutphen justice were sidelined.
The third report was filed by the woman I had an extramarital affair with, at the insistence of her husband. This report also included the request to remove me from my office, because I allegedly abused my position as pastor/counselor. She forgot to mention that we had been on holiday together several times and that we also regularly gave each other personal gifts. This report could have been thrown in the bin at an early stage of the interrogations.
But because the reports were taken to the public prosecutor’s office in The Hague, I was transferred to a police station in Rijswijk to be further interrogated there under the responsibility of the public prosecutor’s office in The Hague.
A former colleague brought me breakfast in the cell, he and I had served as a neighbourhood police officer at the Archimedesstraat police station in The Hague. This meeting was not very pleasant, but rather distant. The head of that office was also a former colleague, who had been in the same training class as me. He made a good career to end up as chief inspector of police. But he did not show up. Too bad, but this shows how the organization is structured. They never make mistakes and if you are arrested, it is completely justified. And that does not change even if you are a former colleague. Better keep your distance. Disappointing for me personally, but that was just the way it was!
After being interrogated twice at the Rijswijk police station by two men, my total denial of all charges against me was presented to the Public Prosecutor in The Hague, in charge of my case. An ambitious man who appeared to have no eye for the possibility that he might have developed a tunnel vision. Strange, because the charges of the so-called victims were impressive. Obvious impossibilities and fantasies that lacked any form of reality. Too crazy to be true. Even a layman would have questioned these charges. But not this Public Prosecutor. He thought he could make a name for himself in the Netherlands in this highly sensitive case. After all, my arrest and detention were widely reported in the press, on the Dutch news and on CNN. Someone with my profile could very well help this Public Prosecutor to rise higher in the judicial system. My detention was officially extended and I was transferred to the cell complex of the police headquarters in The Hague. A cell complex that I knew from my time at the Immigration Service. I had brought many unwanted immigrants there myself. And now I was sitting there behind a closed door. A very strange experience, which did not make me happy.
But the judicial process of humiliation had not yet been completed. After spending a night at the police headquarters, I was brought before the examining magistrate. This man was not interested in anything substantively and he didn’t hide that. The only thing important to him was where I would go during my pre-trial detention. And that was the penitentiary in Rotterdam.
When I arrived there, I was subtly informed that I would be given a number that would stick to me for the rest of my life. “Always good to know,” I responded.
The first six weeks of my detention turned out to be one falling under the category of solitary confinement. I was not allowed to contact anyone, not in the PI itself and not with my wife Caroline. Only my lawyer was allowed to speak to me, as well as the police for further questioning.
During this period, my lawyer gave me all the documents relating to my case. In that mass of paperwork, I also saw who had filed a complaint against me. It turned out to be Martijn, the son of Jan-Pieter, the former and dismissed director of SHEBA. The other was the daughter of my middle brother. Jan-Pieter, who filed a joint complaint against me together with his son Martijn, clearly showed his motives. By means of lies, deceit and false statements, he wanted to take revenge on me, the person who had dismissed him. This again shows that people who boast that they are true Christians are ordinary people with human thoughts and feelings, whether they are true or not. I have come to realize that it is better to deal with people outside of the church, whoever they may be, than with people who are living within. Piety is paramount, but they just as easily stab you in the back, figuratively speaking.
To this day, I have not been able to understand the motivation of my middle brother’s daughter to file a false report against her father and me. The only thing I can suspect, and that is all, is that the separation of her parents was too difficult to digest.
During the isolation period, I was visited twice by the police. During the first conversation, I found out that my eldest daughter also wanted to file a report against me. She just had to think about what exactly had happened. I had not had any contact with my eldest daughter for a long time after she and her mother had run away to the west of the country. Each with a guest from De Schakel, for whom my daughter left her seven-year-old daughter in Zutphen with who is now her ex-husband. To this day this eldest daughter is apparently still thinking about what should have happened. She has therefore never made any statement or filed a complaint against me. Despite the judiciary and the police had hoped for this. In any case, due to her long-term “thinking”, my detention was unnecessarily extended, as it turned out later.
Also, truth finding in my case has turned out to be an unknown word for the judiciary and the police. Both authorities searched, in vain, for supporting statements from other people to get me convicted. For example, my two other children were not summoned to be questioned by the police. They would emphatically deny every word of the false informants and the judiciary had no need for that. I had to “hang” and that was what they wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. My children eventually decided to report to the police in Rijswijk to give their statement. Reluctantly, that statement was recorded, in which they both declared that what the false informants had stated, simply never happened at all, including lies about being abused themselves.
After I was no longer subject to the restrictions in the Penitentiary Institution, which were intended to put me under psychological and emotional pressure, I was finally able to call my wife. Fortunately, she was home at that moment, although I had emotionally prepared myself for the possibility that she might no longer be there. After all, we had only been married for two years at that time. I could not suppress real tears of happiness when I heard her voice again for the first time after so long. What a great woman, who showed me why she is the woman of my dreams. My great love, support and confidant.
Suddenly, the next day all the mail arrived, all the letters that Caroline had written to me every day for weeks. I was quite busy reading all this.
I was now also able to receive visitors in the penitentiary institution. Not an ideal place to meet your loved ones, but it was what it was. Caroline was the first, followed by the chairman of De Schakel and others, including the investor of De Schakel.
After every visit, you were examined by the guards of the penitentiary from head to toe, right down to your buttocks. Every time very annoying, but especially humiliating, certainly for those enduring this. The guards themselves apparently enjoyed it. You can’t really count on humanity or respect in the prison system. You are just a thing, an object, a number, nothing more and nothing less, unfortunately.
During the visits I was updated about De Schakel’s situation. That was not good. A lot of negative publicity and the revenue stream from the Social Services had almost completely dried up. Because all of this there were hardly any new registrations, and people also decided to leave De Schakel. The news of my arrest had also reached Curaçao and no new people were arriving at Schiphol anymore.
Questions were asked in the House of Representatives about this “Antillean route”, as if we were some kind of human traffickers who were operating illegally.
In the penitentiary I decided, in consultation with the board of De Schakel, to ask for help from another reception centre, which was based on more or less the same model. However, the help that De Hoop, the name of that center, offered was in fact as would turn out later, the death sentence of De Schakel. It meant one less competitor for De Hoop and a significant increase in their national image. A complete dismantling of all departments/services of De Schakel was therefore the result. Under the name Stichting Horeb it became a channel for people for the benefit of De Hoop itself. No program, no medical service, no guidance, just a temporary place to sleep until there was room in Dordrecht where De Hoop is located. Moreover, the then director of De Hoop took it a nice Christian step further. He knew many more people who wanted to file a complaint against me. Of course, all this was expressed by the former director in all sincere piety. Such an attitude is deeply sad. Again, it became clear that hypocrisy does not hide the true nature of man.
But back to my “summer residence”: that year the weather in the Netherlands was extremely warm. I tried to stay in my cell as much as possible and not to “get some fresh air”, as they say. If you are suspected of sexual offenses and especially with children, you run the risk in the penitentiary of being “fixed”. That is, if the guards leaked these facts to the residents of the penitentiary. Of course, I didn’t want that. That’s why I only had contact with two fellow inmates when we were on the ring, where we could move around freely, for example to call home.
During working hours at the workshop, I had to put together all kinds of small things very creatively. That wasn’t so bad, because time just went by faster and easier that way.
Because of all the tension in my body, I got a rash on my skin. I was covered in red spots, and I reported myself to the internal medical service of the penitentiary. I didn’t get any help there. I didn’t get any medicine or ointment or anything like that, because I was a denying suspect. Apparently, another method of abuse of power to put a suspect under further psychological and emotional pressure. An abuse in the prison system that in my opinion is inhuman and unworthy of a government that says that all people are innocent until proven guilty. Fortunately for me, my condition was not life-threatening, but it was very annoying, to put it mildly.
But life goes on, even in the penitentiary. A real expert had to be found urgently who could legally and technically refute the statements of the false declarants. In the past, I had heard such an expert on radio 1, specialized in recovered memories of informants of sexual fantasies that they believed they had endured. I had only forgotten the name, but it was provided to me by my wife via a colleague of hers. Professor Doctor H.F.M. Crombag, in his capacity as forensic psychologist and professor at the Rijksuniversiteit Limburg, was approached by my lawyer.
He went through the reports and wrote his findings to the judiciary, which were not to be sneezed at. He severely reprimandend the so-called first expert, Dr. Kemperman. To put it bluntly, for using an outdated method and for lacking sufficient knowledge of the subject matter. Crombag referred the story of both complainants to the realm of fiction as a completely fabricated whole, resulting from so-called recovered memories that had been constructed with the help of a psychoanalytic therapist.
This put the judiciary in a tight spot, because they could not simply just convict me.
There was also a change of guard, in other words the Public Prosecutor from The Hague was removed from my case and replaced by a Public Prosecutor from Rotterdam. It would later turn out that the Public Prosecutor from The Hague had made so many mistakes, such as not consulting in advance the National Expertise Group for Special Morals Cases and the police not using the concept of finding the truth. A friendly parcel secretary at the Palace of Justice in The Hague, who was actually also a co-suspect, later told me that this Public Prosecutor saw his career blocked.
At the end of August and after deliberation of the judges, after having been in detention for one hundred and three days, I was released together with my middle brother. The false informants who were also present at that hearing, sneaked out of the courtroom. After all that time I was finally able to hug my wife and give her a big kiss.
However, the chairman of the court still felt it necessary to remind me of the fact that I had a criminal record. Without realizing it, I asked him what that criminal record consisted of. It turned out to be about a fine because of letting my son go to school at a later moment because of a holiday we had planned. At that time, I brought this to court in Apeldoorn and my fine was reduced by half. So, bringing this to court does result in a criminal record, something I had never thought about. The president of the court in The Hague actually wanted to say that, even if I am allowed to go home now, I would in fact have a criminal past. But that plan failed because of my request in the courtroom to make my criminal record public. Almost at the end of the false reports story, the justice department wanted to show that their intervention had not just appeared out of nowhere. This attempt failed miserably. Because I am not a criminal, never have been and never will be.
After that I was allowed to go home, but I first had to wait for transport from the courtroom to the penitentiary to pick up my things. Once I got home, the house was decorated with garlands everywhere and happily I drank my first glass of Glennfiddich again.
This way, I washed away a very nasty taste of one hundred and three days of unnecessary detention away a little bit. What a joy to be free again, to walk and go wherever you want. But above all, to be back home with my incredibly strong and courageous wife who was always at my side. Together we celebrated our being together again with a short holiday in a hotel in Dalfsen. Unforgettable!
However, the final acquittal had yet to come. The judiciary planned it somewhere in April of the following year. Because the judiciary wanted to do further investigation to get this case back on track for them despite my release. They hoped in particular that more of my so-called victims would come forward. And who knows, maybe my eldest daughter will also regain her memories of her father’s actions. So, the judiciary waited for a breakthrough that would never come.
In the meantime, the end of the De Schakel foundation had come awfully close. In fact, the curtain had already fallen, but not yet visible to everyone.
CHAPTER 12. WHAT NEXT?
After returning home from the Penitentiary Institution, I went to inspect the grounds of De Schakel as soon as possible. That was around September 1999. It soon became apparent that this was not appreciated by the new authorities. Apart from a few staff members of De Schakel who were still more or less functioning there, I was looked at with disdain and carefully avoided. A very sad experience, but apparently that was the Christian policy of De Hoop.
Anything that even remotely smelled of De Schakel had to be nipped in the bud. If looks could kill, I would have died an untimely death there several times. I realised all too well that the era of De Schakel was coming to an end. Emotionally, it was not an easy experience, I can say.
The last meeting of De Schakel was at the office of our investor. It has never been his fault, but De Schakel was in the grip of mounting debts to the energy company and other suppliers. In addition, a declaration of intent had been signed by the board of De Schakel for a seamless transition to the Horeb foundation, the branch of De Hoop that had been set up separately for this purpose. The board of De Schakel made a final, almost desperate attempt with the investor to stop the entire transition process. However, this was no longer feasible, because the consequence was that the board could be accused of “irresponsible management”. The board members of De Schakel did not want to take that risk, even though I, as director of De Schakel and not a board member, wanted to give them cover. I must admit that this also showed that they did not have a fighting spirit. On the one hand understandable.
It should be noted that these board members had also gone through a very difficult period. I was in the penitentiary, creditors were on the doorstep, people in the shelter who ran away and De Hoop who came forward to take over the whole thing.
In between all these obstacles, the board of De Schakel delivered a great performance. They stood as long as possible to hold down the fort, even though the end result was very different from what they had in mind. I therefore greatly appreciated their efforts and especially that of the chairman of De Schakel.
The entire process of false reporting and accusations continued to receive publicity and the daily newspaper De Telegraaf in particular paid a lot of attention to it, with several extensive interviews with me and an exposure of the false reporters.
The social and financial consequences of it all were enormous, both for me and the staff members who were employed by De Schakel. The latter were offered a proposal by the Horeb foundation to sign a temporary contract or otherwise resign. About half of them decided to leave, even though some of them also lost their homes on the grounds of De Schakel.
The other half of the staff signed the temporary contract, to subsequently experience how Christian Horeb/De Hoop really is. The Horeb foundation still needed the help of the head of the crisis center. They contacted a Christian journalist friend from the Reformatorisch Dagblad to give a most negative interview possible with this head of the crisis center. The Horeb foundation would be portrayed positively.
They did this because they continued to receive complaints from residents who indicated that everything was much better organised at De Schakel. It was therefore forbidden to mention the word De Schakel again under penalty of ….! All employees were fired still and no one remained employed by the new foundation. The former head of the crisis centre was also dismissed. You could say that it was a Judas swing. True nature exposes itself. The head of the crisis centre did offer his apologies to me afterwards via the chairman of De Schakel.
De Schakel had just been declared bankrupt by the district court in Zutphen, as well as the evangelical community De Rots. This also went hand in hand with the necessary publications in the Dutch press.
In the meantime, I attended the last lectures at the Vrije Universiteit, and I only had to write my thesis. However, due to everything that had happened in the past year, I could emotionally no longer bring myself to do this. I therefore asked Gerben Heitink from the university to stop my studies for an indefinite period. Fortunately, he was very understanding. Much to my disappointment, it turned out later that the structure of my studies had changed so much that I could no longer simply graduate in the old Dutch system. The Vrije Universiteit had switched to the American university system of BA, MA and PhD. Because this development I was no longer motivated, but I also saw no need to put any more energy into it.
Now that De Schakel no longer existed, the Ministry of Justice came up with the final result of the preliminary investigation into criminal activities of De Schakel and in particular of me as a person. It turned out that there was no truth in the rumours about arms trafficking, drug trafficking and prostitution within De Schakel. The detective department of the Social Services of the municipality of Apeldoorn also suddenly came out with the result of an investigation into fraud by De Schakel. They also concluded that there had been no fraud or any other form of criminality. All of this was also extensively publicised. First, bring out accusations and when damage has been done, establish that nothing, absolutely nothing criminal has been committed by De Schakel or by me as a person. A very reliable government, I would cynically say.
Now that my income as an independent counselor/pastor had stopped due to the bankruptcy of De Schakel, my wife and I had to think about how to proceed. Caroline was still working in the hospital in Zwolle as a medical secretary, so that was at least something. But now it was my turn. Everything has been demolished and building something new from scratch was the only option. Only this was not so easy. After all, many authorities, including the police, certainly did not want me back, after everything that had happened. The Christian world in which I had spent all that time after my time with the police, looked down on me. To them, I was a dirty little man who no longer had a future. Moreover, in the meantime I had developed a deviant theology. Seeking employment elsewhere was also not an easy task, partly due to my age and lack of suitable opportunities. The only most obvious option was to set up something being self-employed.
Eventually I saw an advertisement in the newspaper of the Southwestern Petroleum Company (Swepco) that was looking for people to promote their products in Europe. In Antwerp I met the representative of that company together with my middle brother. We clicked right away and we, my brother and I, decided to get started. My brother, he said, could sell a turd for a croquette. So, I was optimistic, but turned out to be disappointed. His business insights turned out to be very limited and he especially did not want to invest in advance in, for example, a data carrier full of contact details of companies that could possibly use the Swepco products. No, he tore a few pages from the Yellow Pages from a public telephone booth to approach potential customers. Apart from the fact that this was a criminal offence, his way of thinking and acting did not suit me at all. So, our paths parted after just a few weeks.
In consultation with my wife, I decided to use our financial reserves to get our company off the ground. This is how Lazar Salesoffice LTD was established as an operating company and Lazar International Ltd as the parent company. In the four years that I had been doing this, we had employed two people and had three company cars running.
Then in April 2000 the last hearing followed in the district court of The Hague where, as expected, we were acquitted of all the crimes that had been brought against me and my brothers.
That acquittal felt good at first, but the whole thing continued to hang over my life like a dark cloud. After all, I had been accused of something I had not done and, moreover, everyone knew about it because of all the publicity. At least, that is how it felt. Moreover, I could no longer simply practice my profession as a pastor without raising questions. I decided to file a complaint against the false reporters at the Apeldoorn police station. The detective who spoke to me and took my report was friendly and cooperative. Until suddenly, a uniformed police sergeant walked in unannounced. He asked if I was the one who, after three months of street duty in The Hague, was transferred to serve as a mentor for recently graduated colleagues. Of course, I agreed, whereupon he said that my complaint against the false reporters would not go further than the bottom drawer in the same police station where I spoke to him. I then subtly pointed out to him Article 12 of the Code of Criminal Procedure. This article states that everyone has the right to file a complaint and that this should be taken seriously. In other words, he can try, but my report will go to the Zutphen court anyway. After all, making a false report is and remains a crime and as such punishable under the Criminal Code. That apparently former colleague from my time at the Hague police, then left. But it is too crazy for words, that such a man shows such behavior. He was probably already jealous of me back then, or he had another motivation to do this. A brother of one of the false reporters was working as a detective at the Apeldoorn police at the time. I have no idea why, but it does show how strange and improper someone can behave as an authority figure.
My report against the false reporterss ended up neatly at the Public Prosecutor’s Office in Zutphen, who in turn forwarded it to the Public Prosecutor’s Office in The Hague, who would handle everything further.
But apparently inappropriate and improper behavior by the government knows no bounds. One day after our acquittal, I was invited by my former police chief, Chief Inspector Jan. This is the same man who was also invited to attend our wedding in 1997. His wife prepared a delicious Hindustani meal, which, as I know from experience, would be excellent. Once we had had a drink at their home, this former chef asked me: “Did really nothing happen to that complainant? Because where there’s smoke, there must be fire?” I immediately responded that everything the reporters said was a lie. There was no smoke and therefore no fire. But anyway, the food tasted delicious despite the tension this created. Once I was home in Apeldoorn, I tried to contact this former chef by phone, but that was completely impossible. The phone was not answered or his wife told me that he was not available. I therefore strongly suspect that the Public Prosecution Service of The Hague asked this former boss to approach me, to lure me out of my shell in a relaxed, friendly environment. This way, the Public Prosecution Service tried to prove me being a perpetrator after my acquittal. That plan failed completely, but it shows how in this case the Public Prosecution Service still tried to turn its failure against me to their advantage. Below all standards, also for my former boss, whom I considered a friend. The fact that he lent himself for this was a great disappointment to me.
Then the compensation process with the justice department starts.
My claim for millions is immediately rejected by the justice department. I would have to start a separate civil procedure for this supported by forensic evidence. However, I did receive double the amount that an unjustly arrested and detained person is entitled to. A disguised form of admission of guilt in which they admit that my life’s work had been destroyed by these actions. But that did not help me much.
I found a renowned accounting firm that would take on my claim to the justice department. Apparently, the government was too important a client for this firm, to such an extent that they politely but firmly ignored my request to further elaborate the claim.
The court in The Hague had also concluded that my complaint against the false reporters would not be honored. Very disappointing, I must say.
In the meantime, my lawyer from Apeldoorn had been appointed professor at the University of Amsterdam. He referred me to another lawyer who would bring the appeal to the Court of Appeal against the ruling of the court in The Hague.
After a few months, the ruling of this court came. I almost fell over backwards in amazement. It turned out, according to the chairman of the court, that it is allowed to lie. Because these lies are their truths and they do not necessarily have to be true, despite the disastrous consequences it has for the victims of these lies. This statement also made headlines in many newspapers in the Netherlands, but the money to take legal action against the state had run out and so I could not continue to litigate, unfortunately.
The state cannot make it easier, but it can certainly make it more difficult to let justice prevail. Here too, the taste of abuse of power and manipulation by the authorities cannot be completely washed out of my mouth. It was not exactly lucky! But I had to move on, for my wife and myself, for our future. So let’s rock and roll!
CHAPTER 13. FALLING AND GETTING UP AGAIN
Fortunately, Caroline was still working at the hospital in Zwolle. In any case, I had found a new challenge that I could sink my teeth into. It was not exactly my calling to delve into maintenance products for industrial buildings, because that was apparently what SWEPCO wanted to market in Europe. Including the application and processing of those products. I flew to Dallas, Texas, to gain the necessary theoretical and practical knowledge. Not an unnecessary luxury, because I had never applied roofing or a coating floor in my life. Let alone impregnating walls with a protective layer.
Back in the Netherlands, I got to work to see what the best approach could be. Telephone acquisitions had to be made, and test products had to be distributed. Two former staff members of De Schakel were prepared to assist me for the time being at a minimum wage.
After quotations had been submitted, the first orders came in. Things seemed to be going well, but appearances can be deceiving. In mutual consultation, Caroline decided to stop working at the hospital for that reason. She would support the telephone acquisition at the office. No more guaranteed income, but our idea was: nothing ventured, nothing gained.
It turned out that the Netherlands at that time was in the grip of making mutual price agreements in construction. It was agreed which job had to be done at what price and to which company it would be awarded. Bargaining, without the person paying for the assignment (usually the government) knowing about it. It quite reported in the press, but for my company the changes with regard to awarding assignments came too late.
As mentioned, we did receive assignments, mainly from Belgium and Germany, but it was not enough to make a living from it. Caroline and I invested all our private money and loans from the bank in our company, including paying for the staff to travel to the USA to be trained. The nice thing about those training courses was that afterwards the participants were invited to the ranch of the owner of SWEPCO in Texas. The last time I was there, I was also allowed to sit on one of the ranch’s horses for a while. The other participants were already sitting around the campfire when my horse decided to take over the lead. He took off with me at high speed and I didn’t know what to do, except to make sure my head didn’t stick out above his head. Because otherwise I would most likely have been decapitated by the low-hanging branches on the trees. My horse and I were overtaken by someone who did know how to do it and forced it to stop. It was quite an experience to no longer have the reins.
That feeling also surfaced when I finally went to court in Zutphen on my birthday in 2004 to file for bankruptcy of both my LTDs. My wife and I had now lost everything, including our financial back door. I felt like my world was collapsing even further. I didn’t know what to do next and started drinking my problems away. It’s best not to do that, but at that moment the ground seemed to disappear from under my feet. I rationally lost it, with all the consequences. It took about a week and after a lot of talking with Caroline about all those feelings and powerlessness, I got out of that dark place with her help and dedication.
To be able to meet all current obligations, money was an urgency. Not so easy, as it turned out. The bankruptcy of Lazar Sales office meant that I would no longer be able to set up a company and would no longer be able to borrow money. We ran into the proverbial unwilling walls. Even borrowing five thousand euros to buy myself into the real estate agency Remax in Apeldoorn was not granted to me.
With our last bit of money, my wife and I made an appointment with a law firm in The Hague. They offered legal possibilities to set up a new company of our own on the English island of Jersey after a bankruptcy. With these legal papers, we were able to register with the Chamber of Commerce in Apeldoorn. No sooner said than done, and our new English BV, Eden Participation Ltd, was a fact. Our banking problem was also circumvented by my middle brother opening a so-called third party account in my name. Even though my brother did not understand all the ins and outs, I am still grateful to him for doing this for us. Now we could try to give substance to Eden Participations, so we could earn money again to pay for rent, gas, electricity, water and groceries. Caroline and I responded to an advertisement to distribute advertising leaflets. This did not yield much at first. That changed when we were also able to become a depot holder. We travelled many kilometres a day in Apeldoorn and wore out a fair number of shoes as well. My middle brother was surprised by the fact that I could work. In his view, work consists of using your hands and apparently, in his view I had never really worked, neither at the police, nor as a pastor/counselor, nor as the founder and director of De Schakel. After his remark I just looked at him in surprise. It was a pity that even my own family could not show appreciation for what I had achieved in life. Apparently, they would rather throw me under the bus, at least that is how their words and actions felt. It turned out that this attitude was only a prelude to what was yet to come. Since the leaflet business wasn’t bringing in enough, Caroline started working through an employment agency, eventually ending up in the kitchen of a wholesaler for the catering industry in Apeldoorn. During the day, I handled the distribution of the leaflets, and then went to work in a bar together two to three times a week in the evening. That wasn’t easy physically, but we really needed the financial supplement, so we just kept going.
Then another opportunity arose to bring money in. The WIN organisation, which came over from America, has also been active in the Netherlands for several years now. They sell herbal pills, which you being a good example as a seller also must take. The intention was that you would use your own network to earn a good living from this. At least, that was the intention. And again, nothing ventured, nothing gained. To be able to invest in WIN products, I sold my library of five thousand books to a buyer. This really cut through my heart, among other things all my study books and reference works disappeared into a box. It was a collection of books that I had carefully managed to buy over the years in the USA and the Netherlands. But hey, the goal justifies the means, in this case also my melancholy.
With the proceeds we bought the necessary pills from WIN and visited a few meetings in the RAI in Amsterdam and in Ede. However, we soon discovered that the person at the top of this company certainly earns well. The middleman, however, does not. Let alone if you had to start at the bottom of the pyramid. Moreover, the WIN as a whole was presented as an alternative form of religion and especially did not like that last part. We did not need a new guru or anything like that, but we just wanted to rebuild our life and simply be able to live. Therefore after a few months we dropped out of WIN.
In the end, we also tried to get a bar/club off the ground in the form of a BVBA in collaboration with a partner in Belgium, but that also came to nothing. That is to say, we had ourselves bought out, so that the partner could continue on his own.
Because of the activities in Belgium, we had given up distributing leaflets in Apeldoorn. It simply did not bring in enough and expansion opportunities to grow were not offered by the owners of the company we worked for.
During the day, we were able to fill our time with all kinds of activities, from delivering parcels for a courier company to cleaning houses in a recreation park, to working on the assembly line in a chicken processing company. It all brought in too little, despite the many hours we had put into everything. The bills that had to be paid only piled up to such an extent that a bank instructed a bailiff to seize our furniture. As if that wasn’t enough, the energy supplier also decided to cut off the electricity and gas supply.
This gave us a new experience, namely camping in your own home. Cooking food with a butane gas cylinder and boiling water to wash yourself in the bathroom. It is a strange experience having to do this. We had a modern kitchen with all the amenities, but nothing worked anymore.
After living like this for a few months, I found an advertisement where a couple was asked for a real estate agency in Bulgaria. It was time to draw a line under our circumstances, so that we could eliminate our financial worries. After all, in the Netherlands there was no way out of this swamp. All the doors of the authorities remained closed to us and for the churches I had become contaminated territory. Painful and difficult to digest, but that had become reality. Going abroad was perhaps a good option to get out of the malaise. After a conversation at the office of the real estate agent in question, we were accepted as a couple to move to Razgrad in Bulgaria with a very generous salary. It was very convenient that we had bought ourselves out of the BVBA business in Belgium. With that money we could start the journey to Bulgaria. The contents of our house were picked up by a Turkish transport company that regularly drove between Bulgaria and the Netherlands. The owner of the real estate agency also wanted to have a car delivered to Bulgaria. He asked us to drive there with his car. That was convenient, because transporting two adults with six cats and a Groenendaeler dog was not exactly cheap by plane.
After deregistering as emigrants in the population register of Apeldoorn, we set off for Bulgaria in high spirits with an Audi6. The sun seemed to be shining again and we also had a nice route ahead of us, through a number of countries unknown to us, such as Hungary, Romania and with Bulgaria as our final destination.
CHAPTER 14. BEYOND THE MAFIA
The total journey to eastern Bulgaria was about 2700 kilometers. During our journey, the plan to spend a few nights on the road changed. Our animals were not able to cope with such a long journey of several days.
We decided to drive once straight with only one smoke break. After 28 hours we finally arrived in Razgrad, our final destination. The broker had rented two offices in a hotel where we were welcomed.
After meeting our new colleagues, we continued to our new accommodation in Pomoshstisa, a village 25 km further on in the hills. This accommodation was a kind of farmhouse and owned by Sunny Bulgaria, as the broker’s company was called. It was a joy for the animals to be freed from their cages and we could finally recover from the journey.
The next day we started our new job at the office in Razgrad. Caroline would support the administration, and I would do the necessary activities in the field. The later consisted of supervising the renovation of houses that Dutch and Belgian customers had bought from Sunny Bulgaria.
It soon became apparent that things were not quite right. There was tension in the office, where gossip was the order of the day.
Fortunately, our wages were paid on time. With this money we could live comfortably, partly because the standard of living in Bulgaria was much lower than in the Netherlands. We now even had money left over and therefore decided to have my children and grandchildren come over for Christmas.
Their plane landed in Bucharest, and from there we had them transported to Razgrad by two taxis. We had also arranged a rental car for that occasion and together with the company car we all drove from Razgrad to the village where we had been living for almost three months.
The day before Christmas I went shopping in Razgrad with some family members. When we drove back it started to snow, and it did not stop. Halfway up the hill to get home, we could not drive any further. The car was already half covered in snow and could no longer move forward or backward. Staying in the car was not an option, so we took as many groceries as possible with us and then set off our way up on foot. Sinking up to our hips into the snow, we finally arrived, frozen and tired. Together with my son a villager walked back to the car to put a flag on it because the snowplough could be coming. That way they could at least see that there was a car hidden under the snow.
In the end, we had a merry Christmas as a family with a lot of snow, about one and a half meters high! We could not go anywhere, but we had enough food and drink available to survive. There was enough firewood for the fireplace and which provided a cozy warmth.
The moment arrived that they had to go back home. For that reason, the mayor of Pomoshistsa had to be drummed up to ensure that the road going down could be cleared of snow. This operation was carried out flawlessly as well and my children were able to catch their plane in Bucharest on time, albeit with some difficulty, to fly back to the Netherlands.
During their stay, my children also had a video message from my middle brother. In this message he wished us all the best. He would do the honours for me with regard to my children and grandchildren. And that would prove to be the case! In addition, during their stay with us my children gave me all the mail from my mailbox in the Netherlands, received from and opened by my brother. A flagrant violation of Dutch postal confidentality, which is a criminal offense.
I feared the worst, which would only become clear over the years. It turned out that he had completely won over my children and grandchildren by giving his vision of who I really was in his eyes, namely a criminal and a fraudster. He thought this was mainly because of the debts we left behind and that I had actually achieved nothing with the Schakel but misery.
In the meantime, the new year had arrived and the first week of January 2008 started well. In a meeting at the real estate agency, we were informed that we had been dismissed. In the broker’s opinion, we didn’t really fit into his team. He did however want to arrange our return trip to the Netherlands. We politely refused. But it meant that we had to look for another home, because he was going to sell the house in Pomoshtitsa.
Everyone from the office helped us to find an affordable home. Eventually we found one in Razgrad for a reasonable price of 150 Leva per month. This is about 75 Euro per month. We couldn’t pay more, because the broker didn’t want to pay us three months’ salary, which is the law in Bulgaria. This was also stated in our contract, and I wanted to hold him to it. However, the broker thought differently and started threatening us. That didn’t surprise me, because many of his activities in Bulgaria were of a criminal nature.
We soon discovered that we were illegal according to Bulgarian law. We were not registered with the immigration service and not as employees at the agency responsible for that in Bulgaria. No social security contributions were paid, and we were therefore not insured for medical expenses. If there was an inspection at the estate agent’s office, we had to pretend to be potential buyers from abroad. But it got even crazier when we discovered that this estate agent was selling houses to Dutch and Belgian citizens, that were not registered in his name at all. However, the houses were being renovated with the money of these foreigners while the transfer of the house had not yet taken place. The only ones benefiting were the Bulgarian owner of the land with buildings himself, and of course the real estate agent as well.
After we had moved to our “spacious” house in Razgrad, comparable to a kind of turf hut from bygone years in the Netherlands, we sent an email to all buyers and potential customers of Sunny Bulgaria to denounce these mafia practices. Then it became clear how this estate agent had completely adapted to the criminal practices that were common in Bulgaria at the time. We were visited by his friends from the police. They took us to a remote office and here an officer made it clear to us that we had to stop the anti-advertising for Sunny Bulgaria. I made it clear to this policeman that we would do so if he would make sure that the three months’ wages that we were told owed by Sunny Bulgaria would be paid to us. Money that we desperately needed, because we had no income anymore. We had resources until the end of May 2008, if we didn’t do anything crazy. The agent’s police henchman didn’t care about this. We had to stop, or else he would intervene. Fortunately for us, we did not have to do anything to put the agent under further pressure. With Bulgaria’s accession to the European Union, a different and less corrupt wind had slowly but surely started to blow. The Bulgarian police and judiciary launched an investigation into the conduct of Sunny Bulgaria and in particular into the agent himself.
We were summoned to the main police station in Razgrad. There we were each questioned separately by a detective in charge of the Sunny Bulgaria case. Caroline and I explained how we came to Bulgaria and also showed her our contract. She made a copy of it. We also made a statement about the criminal conduct of the agent on the territory of Bulgaria. Incidentally, that detective turned out to be the wife of the lawyer who Sunny Bulgaria used to purchase all the real estate.
Over time, it became clear to us that all the real estate and activities of the agent, including his illegal antiques trade, had been scrutinized. Eventually, the judge had seized everything, and Sunny Bulgaria ceased to exist. However, that did not solve our problem. We never saw the three months wages again Sunny Bulgaria was told to pay.
Before our money was about to run out, we got in touch with a Dutchman we knew from our time at the real estate agent in Razgrad. He was an entrepreneur in the Netherlands and was playing with the idea of starting an employment agency. His idea was to have Bulgarians come over to the Netherlands to work for him for a higher salary than in Bulgaria. He set his sights on us to recruit Bulgarians. We would take on the Bulgarian branch of the new employment agency. However, we first needed to have a residence permit. At that time, it was still the case that you needed to have at least 2500 Leva (1250 Euro) per person in the bank to be able to apply for a residence permit. We did not have this money, but this Dutch businessman decided to lend it to us. We were allowed to leave this money in our bank account and use it for the activities of the employment agency. Unfortunately, the Dutch government had put a stop to bringing Bulgarians to work in the Netherlands. This ended the plan to run an employment agency. The businessman did let us keep the money, so that we had more financial space to survive longer in Bulgaria.
After that, we had to look for a way to earn money again. It turned out that there was an orthopaedic shoe industry in Razgrad, run by a Dutchman. I had called him earlier that year to see if there were any opportunities for work for us. His son called us back a few months later to say that it might be a good idea to meet each other. No sooner said than done. After a good conversation, we were hired on a trial basis. Very logical, since neither of us had any knowledge or experience in the orthopaedic shoe industry. Caroline started working as a final inspector and I eventually became a kind of manager of the whole thing. As I said, the first two months were on a trial basis, that is without financial compensation. It was not until September 2008, the month that our last personal money ran out, that the owner of the company made the decision. He could employ us, at the generous salary of 500 Leva, about 250 Euro per person per month.
Our salary was not a goldmine, but financially we could now breathe a while again and even now and then go out for dinner together. A big improvement compared to the last year in the Netherlands and the initial period in Bulgaria.
Here too, however, it turned out that there was no question of employment. Everything was paid for illegally and therefore no health insurance. Fortunately, our health was reasonably good, so it was not immediately a problem. During an inspection by the Bulgarian labour inspectorate, we had to quickly leave the work floor and go to a café across the street. After this incident, the owner of the company submited an official request to the labour inspectorate. This is how we received our first workbook and were registered in the Bulgarian systems for the first time. A great relief for us.
During this period, I also experienced a great deal of support from my dear Caroline. I have had a lot of trouble with everything that had happened in the Netherlands. No matter how crazy I sometimes acted, she was always there for me to talk to and pick the thread up again and to stay focused on the future.
Unfortunately, we had to put down our Groenendael dog during that period, after a cancerous tumour had been removed. A loyal friend had left us, but fortunately he still lived to be 14 years old. Not a bad age for this breed. In addition to the cats we had, we also offered shelter to many other cats that came along.
Unfortunately, we had a neighbour who hated cats to such an extent that he shot a few of our cats every day. Through another Dutch acquaintance of ours, we were able to contact the head of the police, who paid this man a visit. Fortunately, things calmed down after that. But we did lose thirty cats, including our cats from the Netherlands.
At that time, we adopted two street dogs, Lucky and Lady. Lucky escaped from our garden quite often and the last time this happened, he was caught by a municipal official, and we were able to pick him up from the shelter. He was in a cage next to a large Kangal, who had just bitten his owner to death. This was not a pleasant stay for Lucky and he was very happy to see us. After that, he never left us again.
We continued working at the Dutch orthopaedic shoe factory until April 2011. Unfortunately, the Dutch owner started to suffer from delusions, partly whispered to him by his Bulgarian girlfriend who also worked in the factory. A silent battle had risen between her and me about managing the work floor. Under her influence, he started to think that I wanted to take over his business. I explained to him that I wanted to help him make his business flourish. So, no backbiting or some mysterious takeover, as his girlfriend suggested.
It gradually became even crazier. If something was not to his liking, he started throwing all sorts of things around the work floor, including the coffee cups.
One moment Caroline decided that it was enough. She picked up our things and walked out the door, and I followed a litle later. As strange as it may sound, we celebrated this step to leave with a cognac in a café in the centre of Razgrad. There we discussed how to proceed. The internet probably gave us the opportunity to look further than Razgrad. After all, we had not saved a lot of money and we had to find work somewhere as soon as possible.
Fortunately, we were aided in our search for a new job by a Dutch acquaintance who also worked for the orthopaedic company. He was an orthopaedic shoemaker by trade and had had his own business in Poland. He lived close to us and while he was away working, we could use his computer to look for work elsewhere.
In the meantime, I received a phone call from my middle brother, saying that he had deregistered my Dutch company, Eden Participations Ltd, from the Chamber of Commerce, closed the post office box in the Netherlands and sold our belongings, such as a miniature train track and a pair of binoculars without our explicit permission. Moreover, with doing so he had committed various crimes, including forgery, fraud, and embezzlement. This phone conversation was a series of things he had done to end his relationship with me. Such an attitude is pathetic and it also hurts, because he is and remains my brother.
Anyway, we had to go on in Razgrad and got busy applying for jobs by email. Within a few weeks we received an invitation from a call centre in Sofia with an invitation to work there. Working at a call centre never really appealed to us, but you must do something to survive abroad. We made an appointment with the call centre and left for Sofia the following week by public transport. On the one hand to sign the contract and on the other hand to find a suitable home somewhere in Sofia.
The first was no problem and we each received 2000 Leva net per month, plus health insurance. Per person we were going to earn four times as much as in Razgrad. You can imagine how we felt, on top of the world!
Finding a house was something else. Some houses were simply worthless, and the rent of another house was increased by 33 percent by the owner on the spot. Eventually we found a large house in Dragalevtsi, a suburb of Sofia and situated at the foot of the Vitosha mountain. But even that was not without a fight. The owner of the house got into an argument with the estate agent where the property was rented out and did not want to rent it through them anymore. It was only when we were on the bus on our way back to Razgrad that we got the redeeming answer: the landlady agreed after all. And that was a good thing, because that weekend we had to move everything so we could start working in the call centre for the first time the following Monday. In the centre of Razgrad we were able to rent a truck with the help of a Bulgarian acquaintance.
We loaded all the stuff and the pets, including two cats and two dogs, on the truck to leave for Sofia. The city of wisdom and our new home were waiting for us.
CHAPTER 15. HOME
The journey to Sofia took about 6 hours, which meant that we only arrived at our new accommodation in the evening.
We were met by the landlady who had us sign the rental contract first. Immediately afterwards she provided a new refrigerator and washing machine. That was certainly a more than warm welcome.
What turned out later was that there is considerably less snow in Sofia, about half a meter per time compared to at least 1 meter in Razgrad. The temperatures are also somewhat higher there than in the east of Bulgaria. All very nice for my increasingly stiff body suffering from rheumatic complaints.
The first Monday after arriving in Sofia we had to go to work in a completely new work environment for both of us. Caroline was trained for the customer service of the energy company Essent and I for selling subscriptions for government tenders.
We did not have our own transport at the time, but fortunately public transport in Sofia and in Bulgaria in general is well organised. So early in the morning we took the mountain bus down, to change at the ring road to another bus that stopped in front of our new workplace.
We were very happy when after half a year we could stop taking public transport every day. Our first own car in Bulgaria became a fact, a second-hand Opel Zafira diesel from 2001. We couldn’t believe our luck, because now we could also do our shopping more easily and also go to the Metro once a month. This was really a big step forward for us.
In the meantime, the narrow-minded way of thinking and acting of my middle brother had not escaped our notice. During our absence in the Netherlands, he committed fraud and forgery by deregistering our company Eden Participation Ltd from the Chamber of Commerce without our explicit permission. As a result, we had to set up a completely new company in Bulgaria, which we called Dunamis International Ltd, to try to get started in the Real Estate business.
In 2014 we were invited to celebrate Christmas and New Year with my youngest daughter who lived in Belgium with her children and other family members. We thought this was a nice idea and at the airport in Brussels she and her new boyfriend picked us up. The latter told me in a Belgian accent that my daughter spoke very highly of me. I already had a bit of a bad feeling about that remark. Why did he say that out of the blue?
During Christmas my daughter and I had an argument, and it turned out that she no longer thought so highly of me. Any form of respect for me as her father and as a person was far from present. This stay in Belgium already showed that my middle brother had been quite busy driving a wedge between me/us and the children and grandchildren. I told her that I expected the same respect from her as she expected from her children. She didn´t give me an answer, only silence from her side. I responded by saying “in that case I know where I stand”. Later she blamed me for these words. She didn’t understand much of it, unfortunately. Over time it would become apparent that the gap between us would only grow. Painful and deeply pathetic and certainly not easy to deal with.
We intensively tried to make Dunamis International a success in addition to our call center work, but it was not meant to be. After many years of trying, we closed our company in 2021.
In the meantime, Bulgaria was slowly but surely emerging from the clutches of the legacy of communism, including the corruption that came with it. This became apparent, for example, when I had an accident, which resulted in our car being a total loss. The police arrived on the scene to record the accident on a damage form. I looked over the policeman’s shoulder to see if everything had been filled in correctly, whereupon the officer said that he could be trusted and indicated the Bulgarian counterparty as the culprit. In the past, the foreigner always got the blame and there was little you could do about that. Fortunately, Bulgaria was pushed upward in the march of nations. Particularly the younger generations are European-oriented and often speak English. For the older generation, my age and older, it is much more difficult to break away from the Russian communist thought patterns and ditto actions. The changes that we have experienced over the years have been a pleasant development for us, even though it will take some time before all institutions are fully equipped and citizens are fully adapted to European legislation.
We experienced this also when Caroline set up her own company. It is different from the Netherlands or elsewhere in Western Europe. You need a lawyer to formally set up your company. The lawyer takes care of all the registrations that are required. That is quite a lot, but you will have a real Bulgarian company. This way Caroline can now work for the Dutch health care system, a pediatrician and a group of psychologists. The big advantage is that we are both at home and no longer have to work for a call center. Moreover, Caroline can arrange her own working hours, she no longer has to travel, we eat together every day, and financially it also yields a lot more. We do the housework together and take care of our three dogs and four cats. It can hardly get any better.
In 2023, we were able to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary in good health and with a sparkling future ahead of us. Even though family members have been wondering for years when we will separate as husband and wife. However, we must disappoint them at this point. We will never separate unless death do us part. These people are constantly making fools of themselves with their comments and insinuations about it. However, such an attitude is anything but healthy and fun. Unfortunately, that is the reality. We hope that their attitude will change one day, but we really do not have much faith in that. Fortunately, we have the necessary foundation for a good future together. We have really arrived at our destination in Bulgaria, even though I personally miss my work as a pastor/counselor. Unfortunately, the Christian world has turned out to be a fake world. A world full of beautiful, often more than very pious, words, but the associated actions do not seem to match that at all. Like every human being, the person who calls himself a Christian is also subject to lies, deceit, cheating, gossip and unfounded insinuations. I still call myself a Christian, but not in the regular sense and certainly not a fundamentalist. The only thing that counts for me being a Christian is to do good to and for all the people I meet. Like an agnostic, a Hindu, a Muslim or just an outright pagan. I want to be there for you, including with my own shortcomings. And what the established order and/or churches say about it, I don’t care. I have learned to live with it.
What I have also accepted and tried to live with, is that my children no longer want anything to do with me. The influence of my middle brother therefore bear very bitter fruits. He fooled them to believe that I am actually criminally inclined and that my life’s work De Schakel has basically amounted to nothing.
It is very painful when family thinks about you this way and acts accordingly. However, that brother had already made this announced in a video message that we received when we had just arrived in Bulgaria in 2007. His message was that he would take good care of my children and would do the honors for me as a father. He literally did that with the help of many lies and the necessary poison. Pathetic, because this is how even religious family members show that they are actually negative people with an unrelenting jealousy and envy.
Despite all this, we enjoy my retirement and our time together in Bulgaria. That is why all the lies, deceit, jealousy and envy do not have the last word in our lives. There is still something on our bucket list, namely to be able to buy our own home here in Bulgaria and that I can take up a law degree in the Netherlands. In addition, we are looking forward to celebrating our thirtieth wedding anniversary in 2027, which we have planned to celebrate in Mongolia with the descendants of Genghis Khan. So, there are still desires that drive us here in Bulgaria. Above all and despite everything we have been through, we are happy with each other and we enjoy to the fullest what life has in store for us.
CHAPTER 16. THIS IS HOW IT ALSO CAN BE DONE!
In this chapter I would like to record my vision of how a different approach to addiction care can also work. This can be many times cheaper than the models that are still used by the government and the affiliated and subsidized institutions. This approach certainly does not pretend that the model I developed and have used in everyday practice for more than 10 years is the only correct one, or the only one that will really work for addicts.
The starting point of my model is a low threshold. Meaning, if the addict is ready to receive help, it must be immediately available. So, no long waiting lists or in any case the waiting time for admission must be as short as possible. After all, the motivation to kick the habit and thus turning around a life full of addiction, is all too often a snapshot in the life of the addict. After a day or so, he/she may have been tempted to continue with the addiction.
Another important principle of my model is that of equality. Although one person may have more potential than another, we all are first and foremost only human. That makes us equal, regardless of the past.
What is also not unimportant is the person’s free will. Every person can choose to get rid of his/her addiction or not. Social, cultural and societal circumstances can play a role, which makes it easier for one person to make the right choice and more difficult for another. The influence of others around the addicted person also often plays a positive or negative role in his/her choices.
These perspectives above are the foundation on which my model for addiction care is based, in which everyone must be given or must have the opportunity to break the vicious cycle of addiction.
I have called my model the hermeneutic-nouthetic method. Hermeneutic means that a translation needs to be made to the addict’s past. As soon as we can understand this past, we can bring this to a new future perspective for that person. Nouthetic means admonishing, correcting and encouraging. The intention is to arrive at a new acceptable set of general norms and values, which are generally used in the society in which we, that is to say the addict and I, live. The addict seeking help must be able to trust his care provider. This trust needs time to grow, as well as daring to be vulnerable to each other. This applies to both the addict and the care provider and vice versa. Openness and honesty are an important condition for both parties. Hence the principle of equality, regardless of our past. To make this even clearer, I have developed the triangle below:
As humans we are responsive beings. We respond to each other in all sorts of ways, thus responding to the other. For the addict seeking help it is therefore important that he learns to respond to his own life. The care provider plays an important role in trying to help him/her understand, comprehend and interpret that past.
If this process of seeking answers has been successful, it is important that the addict comes to take responsibility for that past with everything that entails. Coming clean is a necessary undertaking to come to terms with yourself, to build a balanced and different life. This may mean that serious crimes must be confessed to the justice system. Or that the addicts must talk to relatives in order to try to straighten things out again. This taking of responsibility is only possible if that person really wants to take that responsibility to close his negative past.
When this phase in the program has been reached, another important hurdle comes that must be taken, that of giving meaning. In the past, when I was just a pastor/counselor, I thought that there was only one form of meaning that was important to people, namely faith, including a church community that goes with it. However, I have learned the hard way that this is a very limited view of meaning. This is partly because it has become apparent that a religious community is actually a shadow society that, critically speaking, thinks, feels and acts the same as regular society. The only difference is that they cover their thinking, feeling and acting with pious words, expressions and talk. You can also characterize it as a make-believe world with many hypocrites in it. Fortunately, that view is far behind me! For the care provider, it is a necessity to go on a journey with the addict to discover what his meaning is or can become. A person can find meaning in different areas, such as music, painting, designing, photography or sports. You name it. In the addiction care program, it is a must to give the addict all the time and space he needs to find meaning. He must not only think about meaning, but he must also experience it internally, so that this gives him real satisfaction. So, give space in the program to, for example, creativity, making music, study opportunities, sports, etc. In the last phase of the program, meaning can also be found outside the shelter, where the client learns to be responsible for the new possibilities in society that await him. This way, he can learn to question himself and learn to respond to his inner developments. Supporting the client/help seeker is therefore an extremely important task for the care provider.
Skills for the care provider can be learned, of course at colleges and universities, but also in the reception center itself. Train those people who have been taken in as addicts and who experience meaning in helping other people with their own experience. This expert by experience is therefore an important indispensable link in my model of addiction care to help people further. But also to keep care affordable with as few, often expensive, professional staff as possible. Of course, those expensive professional employees are also necessary, such as one or more doctors specialized in addiction care, nurses, psychologists, counselors and a director for management and finance/general administration. The size of the reception center, the available beds for people seeking help, partly determines the ratio between professional employees and the number of experts by experience.
Another point of attention is that there must be sufficient internal projects where people seeking help can perform physical work. Depending on where the shelter is located and how it is equipped, this could be a garden maintenance project, a kitchen service, laundry, or maintenance of buildings. It could also include manning the internal and external telephone exchange, taking care of the animals present, such as dogs and cats, but also small livestock such as chickens and rabbits. Another project could be washing and maintaining company vehicles and staff cars. It could also include setting up external social projects, such as a soup bus, which is at one or more locations in the nearby city every week to provide homeless people and addicts with well-filled soup and other food. This is also a good way to contact this group of people and, if desired, where a helping hand can be offered. For people who have completed the center’s program and would like to get started as an expert by experience, such a project is a great challenge. Important for these projects is that people are sufficiently instructed in what is expected of them.
In addition, it is extremely important to pay attention to gaining work experience in regular society. For this purpose, contact can be made with all kinds of companies and in particular with employers of companies where a lot of manual work is carried out. This includes chicken slaughterhouses, medium-heavy industry, snack bars, etc. These companies often need extra support and someone from the shelter is more than welcome. Guidance for these types of projects should therefore certainly not be neglected. Certainly not when a company is also prepared to make monthly donations to the shelter/rehab clinic. That way the proverbial knife cuts both ways. The company receives the necessary extra workers for a reasonable donation and the shelter receives extra financial space in the budget.
What should not be underestimated is the potential that many people seeking help have due to previous education, work experience, or talent. If someone shows this, it is good to develop this further by giving that person responsibility. A defined leeway, in which the person is free to fill this in and create something that they can be proud of. This could include the Technical Service, where all kinds of insights are desired. But someone with that talent and/or experience can also develop well in the Public Relations department. This all contributes to the meaning of someone’s life. The condition is that the person also sees it in themselves to make something beautiful of it with the necessary guidance. Offering and promoting study facilities among clients of the clinic is a potential opportunity to discover where someone’s interests lie or what that person wants to learn more about. Creating a study room within the clinic where people can learn without being disturbed is of great importance in this respect.
Proper guidance from the external training institute and the clinic itself are also important elements. A student being self-disciplined is one thing, but sometimes it also needs to be stimulated.
Finally, setting up a kind of client council is of particular importance for the clinic functioning properly. After all, this is how you find out what is going on among the residents. Make sure that this council is heard and has a certain practical influence on the policy of the organization. Otherwise, it will become a sham, and the client council will lose its usefulness. Someone from the staff should be present at these meetings to listen and note down what is going on among the residents. These notes can be discussed with the management and the results fed back to the client council.
Regularly holding group discussions in small or large groups, or with all residents at the same time, can also serve to achieve better functioning of residents, staff and experts by experience. Make sure there is an open atmosphere in which everyone is heard. Also provide sufficient feedback on what is put forward. That is, feedback on why something can or cannot be adjusted in the general running of the clinic. That will make visible that not only the residents, but also the staff, experts by experience and any volunteers from outside the clinic, are responsible for developing meaning for the greater whole.
All this is a possibility to arrive at an affordable set-up of an addiction clinic that does not necessarily have to be subsidized.
With a so-called third-party account with which the benefits of the admitted guests are managed, savings can also be organized for the future of the guests after the program. A proper distribution of the benefits of admitted guests is, for example, 75% for the clinic in order to be able to cover all costs, with a certain maximum for those who receive more benefits than the standard from the Social Services, such as a WAO benefit. The 25% that remains available to the admitted guest can be divided over a daily amount to be spent on pocket money, clothing or study books.
If the program of approximately 18 months is concluded with a sort of certificate to underline that fact, the return to society begins. A room or other living space must be found under the management of the clinic or in cooperation with the local government. The benefits of the person concerned must again be fully in his hands during this re-entry phase. In cooperation with the Employment Office or via the clinic’s contacts in the business community, work must be found for that person. In this phase too, it is important that some kind of remote guidance is created by the clinic. Depending on the personal situation, the duration of this guidance can last from half a year to one year. It is also possible to make agreements with the Justice Department within the framework of article 47 of the Code of Criminal Procedure for placements in the clinic. The compensation to the clinic for these placements ordered by the court is generally a lot higher than the benefits that run via the Social Services. In that case, make sure you have a lawyer who is prepared to assist all guests by providing proof of inability, in order not to interrupt the drug rehabilitation program by a possible prison sentence. This will give the admitted guests a new chance to continue their lives after the program with a clean slate.
This is how it can be done and the foundation De Schakel, which I founded and led with the model described above, proved in the nineties for about ten years that this model actually works without government subsidies. Perhaps a reader will be inspired by how it is also possible to set up something similar to lend a helping hand to fellow human beings and to provide real help. Should that reader have any questions about it, he can always contact me via the contact form on the website gerardblankespoor.com. I will be happy to help you, because there is and remains a great need for affordable addiction care in the Netherlands.
