As I type this on my laptop, I'm listening to Dirk Jansz. Zwart playing some works of his father, Jan Zwart, on the majestic organ in the St. Eusebiuskerk, in Arnhem, the Netherlands.

My brother Herman loved playing Jan Zwart. Memories of Herman's great playing wash over me. How I admired his talents for making music. I have many memories of Herman behind the consoles of "the King of all instruments" - majestic organs in beautiful churches, even large cathedrals. My deep love for baroque music, especially the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, is deeply intertwined with his. That's how we grew up together. Already during the dark time of the war, we hungered for good music....

But every year it was Christmas! I remember Herman and I slipping out of the house on Acacialaan 15 in the wee hours of one Christmas morning. We were so "gereformeerd" (reformed), that going to a Roman Catholic church was "verboden" (not allowed). We had never been to the R.C. church on the Langestraat in Winschoten, the city in which we grew up. But that morning we sneaked into a packed church. We heard music we had never heard before. Never would we forget the heavenly sound from that beautiful boys' choir and that pure boy soprano.

We didn't know it then: that boy soprano was no less than Johan Leffers, a boy living on our street. We didn't much associate with the Leffers family. I'm sad we grew up so intolerant. Johan was a fine boy.

Our precious radio at home had been confiscated by the Germans. After WW II we finally could listen again to Hilversum I or II, the national radio stations. And at Easter time, we sat for hours listening to the wondrous music coming from the Grote Kerk in Naarden. This was the annual performance of Bach's St. Matthew Passion, directed by Dr. Anton van der Horst. ( Corrie and I had the privilege, in 1999, of visiting this famous church in Naarden. For me, this was almost holy ground.) During this radio broadcast, Herman and I would demand total silence. We'd often sing along, or swing with our arms, conducting an invisible orchestra, choirs and soloists. We spoke with awe about such soloists as Jo Vincent, Annie Woud, Aafje Heynis, Laurens Bogtman, Han le Fevre, and others.

Summer 2008. Sense and Corrie in front of the "Bachhaus" (Bach House) in Eisenach (Thuringen), Germany. Johann Sebastian Bach was born in Eisenach on March 21, 1685. The Bach House is the first museum in the world dedicated to him, and also Germany's most frequently-visited music museum.

Making music together

At home we had a small, beautiful "Welt" harmonium. Our musical mother often played on it in her unique way, i.e. only on the white keys. All the kids played on that beloved instrument. If you want to see it, it's on http://hermandejong.newmaker.net Oftentimes, we all stood around Herman and sang Genevan psalms or the songs of "Johannes de Heer," Woensel Kooy or "Kunt ge nog zingen, zingen dan mee!" (If you still can sing, sing along!). People on the street would stop and listen. Truus, my sister, told me a story about Mina Eygenberg, the only child of our neighbours. The Eygenbergs never went to church, but Mina was hungry for the kind of music- making she heard from next door. "Oh," she said, "I was so jealous of you, Truus. You had such a happy home!"

How can I forget the "Concert in Winschoten" (see an earlier story), when we performed a sizeable oratorio composed by Herman himself. Then there were the times that he and I just performed together in our big Reformed Church. I sang "Ombra Mai Fu," a beautiful aria from George Frideric Handel's opera Xerxes. We sang arias from Handel's Messiah, e.g. "Ev'ry valley shall be exalted," or "The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light." We even attempted pieces from Bach's Matthaeus Passion, e.g. "Ich will bei meinum Jesu wachen" or the great bass-aria "Mache dich, mein Herze, rein." Herman would often sing along - he had a great voice.

Our hometown, Winschoten, in those years had a very impressive concert hall, called "Wisseman" or "Hotel Dommering." I remember going there to see a performance of a play in which Herman had a major role. We both attended the nearby H.B.S. (Hogere Burger School - i.e. high school). I was always two years behind him because of our ages - and we were taught by the same teachers. One of them was Mr. J.T.R.C. Koch, who taught Dutch Language and Lit., and who directed the H.B.S. drama classes. The play I saw was some kind of medieval play in which Herman, dressed up like a knight, had a duel with a guy who was after the same girl. Herman was stabbed and mortally wounded. While "dying" he sank on his knees and began to sneeze loudly. Then he fell over and his body became inert on the stage. But the sneezes continued, first loudly, then softer, and softer, and softer. Then silence. I'll never forget the hush that came over the audience. And then the thundering applause!
(Note: When Mr. Koch met me on the first day in his class, he discovered I was a younger brother of Herman. He promptly wanted to nail me to join his drama class, figuring he had another winner. I firmly and politely declined. sdj)

The "Wisseman" concert hall attracted some of the best performers and orchestras in the country. The hall was not only very beautiful, but it was known for its excellent acoustics. We couldn't afford to go to these concerts, so we devised ways to slip in unnoticed during intermission.

One memory will always stand out. Brother Cees and I somehow got tickets to a performance of Bach's St. Matthew Passion (maybe other family members were there as well). The soloists, whose names I don't remember, were top-notch and well-known in the Netherlands. I do remember that Han le Fevre was the evangelist. The orchestra "Groninger Orkest Vereniging," (i.e. Groninger Philharmonic) came from the City of Groningen and was conducted by Cor Batenburg, the famous organist of the Martini Church in Groningen. The hall was full, the concert master once more tuned the orchestra, the soloists were in place, then silence. From the back of the hall, we then saw the elegant, white-haired figure of Cor Batenburg striding through the audience. Arriving on his dais before the orchestra, he raised his baton, and we heard the unforgettable opening chords leading up to the first chorus: "Kommt ihr Tochter, helft mir klagen." And soon we heard the pure tones of the boys choir singing the choral: "O Lamm Gottes unschuldig." I looked at Cees and he looked at me. We were both in tears.
(Note: As a teenager I would never have then believed that, one day, I would sing this majestic piece myself. On April 21, 2000, I , as well as Herman's wife Stiny and their son Henry, sang the St. Matthew Passion with Chorus Niagara, led by Robert Cooper, in the Calvary Church in St. Catharines, Ontario.)

There was another occasion during which the "St. Matthew Passion" was performed in my very own church: the "Gereformeerde Kerk" (Reformed Church) on the Venne in Winschoten. Since I couldn't afford to buy a ticket, I persuaded our custodian, Mr. Ploeger, to smuggle me into the auditorium. The platform on which the orchestra, soloists and choir sat was raised and built over top the first four or five rows of the pews. I thought that was awesome. And Han le Fevre, the evangelist, stood on the high pulpit - a very appropriate spot since he was announcing the gospel.

Our church could easily seat 1100 people and, as far as I remember, the place was sold out.

In Canada

Shortly after my arrival in Canada in 1953, I ran into a piano tuner who had a Christian program going on Radio CHVC - Niagara Falls. He found out I could sing and soon I went with him to sing some easy solos on the radio. Herman - still in Holland - thought this was totally awesome. He arrived later that year and initially found employment with that Mr. Jones, the piano tuner. He had to sit in various stores demonstrating electronic organs! Soon thereafter, we were heard together performing Handel arias etc. on the radio.. We thought we had it made!

From Niagara we moved to the St. Thomas-Aylmer, Ontario, area. We boarded with an immigrant family in St. Thomas. Typically, Herman found work as choirmaster and organist in a United Church. I donned choir robes as well and sang solos. Each week we traveled in our ancient Austin to the Christian Reformed Church in nearby Aylmer. This is where his future wife, Stiny, and the Vanderlaan family had settled that year (1953). Herman directed the choir and I sang bass. One day, as we traveled along Highway # 3, an oncoming car overturned inches in front of us and landed in the ditch. Herman hadn't seen a thing, but I told him to stop and go back. We found the guy smoking a cigarette standing unharmed by his car. That night we thanked the Lord for sparing our lives.

After Herman got married, he and Stiny settled in Goderich, Ontario. There he became cantor organist of the Knox Presbyterian Church. I remember listening to him in that fine church as I had on so many occasions in Holland. Again, I was asked to sing a solo or two.

In later years, Corrie and I lived in Edmonton, Alberta, and Herman and Stiny in Sarnia, Ontario. We moved to St. Catharines in 1970, and , in 1979, they arrived in Niagara as well.

Our involvement in and love for music continued. As a member of Gerzinus Hoekstra's Male Chorus "Collegium Music" I was part of the concert tours in the Netherlands during the years 1979 and 1982. During 1994, Corrie and I, as members of Hoekstra's Mixed Choir "Cantata Singers," sang concerts in Leiden, Helvoirt and Vollenhove, the Netherlands. Highlight of this "European" venture was the concert in Copenhagen (Hvidovre), Denmark.. While touring Denmark, we gave spontaneous, gratis concerts in the "Kronborg Castle," in Helsingor, and also in the chapel of the "Fredensborg Slot," somewhere close to Copenhagen.

Herman went to be with the Lord on July 27, 2004. Earlier, he underwent a major operation in London, Ontario, to repair a dangerous aortic aneurism. He was lovingly cared for by Stiny, his wife. But then she was diagnosed with cancer and underwent major surgery. Now the roles were reversed. I vividly remember seeing Herman during the numerous trips he made to the hospital in Hamilton, Ontario, where Stiny had been operated. His devotion and loyalty were evident to all of us. But then cancer struck him - lung cancer. He made the announcement himself to the family.

Two concerts stand out from the time we were together in Niagara. Herman and I traveled to the Roy Thomson Hall in Toronto one day to hear the famous" Nederlands Kamerkoor" (Netherlands Chamber Choir). How well we recalled listening to this awesome, classical choir on the radio in our younger years. This time, the choir was directed by the well-known Dutch organist/choir director Ton Koopman. We were spell-bound when the choir sang, a cappela, all of Bach's exceedingly difficult Motets. As they say today, it was, like, awesome!

Also, during the last ten years of Herman's life, we heard that a choir from Stuttgart, Germany, called: "The Gaechinger Kantorei," directed by Helmuth Rilling, would come to the Roy Thomson to perform Bach's massive Mass in B Minor.. Over the years, both Herman and I began to appreciate the B Minor Mass more and more. We did not buy tickets for the Toronto performance, but we listened to the audio tapes and later saw the video on T.V. I cannot imagine hearing a better interpretation of this glorious Mass than the one sung by the "Kantorei" led by Rilling. It is, like, sublime.

The memorial service following Herman's death took place on July 31, 2004, in Jubilee Fellowship Christian Reformed Church (see http://hermandejong.newmaker.net/ ). As part of the Confession in the liturgy, the audience listened to a recording of a Chorus Niagara concert that Herman attended in which his son Henry and brother Sense sang the Mass in B Minor. Bach composed this music in honor of Jesus's crucifixion and resurrection. The audience heard the softly sung final bars of the chorus Crucifixus and the explosive opening bars of the chorus Et Resurrexit.

Herman would have loved that!