Schoonveld Family

On a Saturday in the fall of 1966, when I was 8 years old, my father told me that we would be moving to America. The preparations were already underway, but the adventure truly began with our journey on the SS Statendam. From Rotterdam to New York, with stops in Le Havre and Southampton, it was a week filled with excitement and seasickness. Upon arriving in New York, with the Statue of Liberty in sight, my brothers and I were nervous and full of expectations. What awaited us in this new country? Discover our story of emigration, adaptation, and new experiences!

SLOWLY IT DAWNED ON HIM. The conductor on the train from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Kitchener, Ontario, was calling out his name. He had a scary thought—if after four years of studying English in the Netherlands, he could not even recognize his own name, how was he ever going to understand anything in this new country? But here he was, 18 years of age, getting off the train in the middle of the night at one of the tiniest railroad stations he had ever seen—where people spoke English. Uncle Arts journey was just beginning, filled with unexpected twists and turns.