Finding Lynden Washington & My Real Dutch Name

This morning I was looking through the files that are published in my durangotexas.com domain. I came upon one I'd forgotten about.

Way back in 2002 I somehow found myself, here in Texas, causing a family reunion to happen 2,200 miles away, in Lynden, Washington. If I remember right the thing started with me being a smart ass to my cousin, sort of calling her bluff.

From that point on it sort of spun out of control, resulting in July of 2002, with relatives, from all over the country, making their way to Lynden for the biggest family reunion my relatives have ever had.

Because relatives were coming from all over, I was getting asked questions about things, like motels and RV parks, I decided to make a few webpages about Lynden. With a lot of Lynden links. Those webpages were made in the now antique framed website method.

So, this morning I re-did the Lynden pages and linked them to my other webpages about Washington. I thought this would be a daunting task. But it only took about a half hour. I never estimate these type things, time-wise, correctly.

Lynden is about 5 miles south of the Canadian border. The population of the town consists mostly of Dutch descendants. My ancestors came over from Holland in the 1890s. They kept moving evermore westward, looking for a decent place to live. Eventually they heard from other Dutch people about the state of Washington, where, on the west side of some tall mountains, it reminded them of Holland.

My great grandpa was sent to scout out this place. When he returned to his mom and dad, that being my great great grandpa and ma, he convinced them they had to move to Lynden.

Which is how it came to be, when I was growing up, that we went up to Lynden pretty much every weekend, to visit my grandmas and aunts and uncles and cousins. My Dutch grandma died in 1994. My un-Dutch grandma died in 2004. I have not been to Lynden since 2002.

I remember my Dutch great grandma. Tillie. She was married to my great grandpa, John, the one who scouted out Lynden. He died before I was born. If I remember right, great grandma Tillie died in 1962. She had a Dutch accent and taught us some Dutch words. Like brookies. That is Dutch for undies. My great grandma was a masterful knitter, I remember getting sweaters, mittens, hats. I can still remember how happy she would be to see us kids, and how happy we'd be to see our great grandma.

The Dutch side of my family had a naming tradition that had the eldest boy of the eldest boy named either John or Cornelius. That's the American version. The Dutch version is Jan or Cornelis. My great grandpa, John, was the oldest son of an oldest son named Cornelis. Great grandpa John's oldest son, my grandpa, was named Cornelius, nicknamed Neil. My grandpa's oldest son is my dad, named John, nicknamed Jack. I am my dad's oldest son. My mom and dad caused a family scandal when they did not name me Cornelius. They thought that was a horrible name to saddle a kid with. When I learned what I was supposed to be named I told my mom and dad I would have liked that name. It fits well with my last name. Much better than the plain name they came up with.

By the way, that is Lynden's famous windmill, on Front Street, in the picture at the top.