Those days of old, those days of gold...
he, worship and supplication – and when he appeared before them, there was never, really, uneasiness, only the traditional (!) terse coughs from the benches.
It is pleasant writing this remembrance about which there is nothing sad. It is simply human, ever so human: it is menschliches allzu menschliches (to resort to a phrase of Nietzsche’s).
We come now to Dominee Koekemoer’s presence in the story. One recounting of his life at that time, was his intensely dedicated performance at Easter time one year. He was preaching the evening and, taken with his own delivery of the Word, descended the pulpit steps, positioned himself in front of the pulpit, gazed over the brothers and sisters, and unburdened himself: “Beloved in the Lord, I will now walk to the church door in front, then I shall return to the pulpit. And I beg all those of sinful ways among you who have come to repentance during my preaching, to follow me as I walk back.” Then he walked purposefully – and solemnly – down the long aisle between the benches. Some in the congregation muttered “Amen!” in support of the Dominee. Some others clapped hands, and respectfully intoned “Praise the Lord!”.
The reverend turned at the arched wooden door, looking almost triumphant, and filled with the Spirit. He walked slowly, expectantly, at last reaching the bottom of the pulpit steps. He turned round. There was a huge heaving sigh from the congregation: for no one, but no one, had followed in Dominee Koekemoer’s wake. Not even mister Pieters.
Elder Loeries took in the scene, dejectedly, but kept a tight face, prognosticating with the customary insight: “The ways of the Lord are not to be fathomed.” And Dominee Koekemoer said, unphased: “I will preach here again next year, beloved, and then there will be a clearer outcome. God be with you, now, on your way home. He will be behind you, before you, and over you, at your side, and under you.”
I have often dwelt thoughtfully on this time – the days of Dominee K, and of misters L and P, and have come to associate it with my mother above all, who taught me to recognise and appreciate a meaningful story: it kindles the memory of her in me, and also lights up for me the remembrance of the town and congregation of R.
Those were good days, deserving celebration. They will stand, historically – and poetically: Dominee Koekemoer, mister O Jhê Loeries, and mister Pieters, long dead now, are worthy of remembrance (Who is there without sin?): Dominee Koekemoer should be brought to mind for his patient and kind compassion and mister Loeries and mister Pieters for simply being what they were. And, let us not omit to refer to how, in the end they were forgiven everything and (as the saying goes), laid to rest peacefully – ‘given a church burial’ – from under the very perch of the pulpit. And we would be blessed to wish that they will (as God receives them) merge with His Time: Eternity. Born in Wellington, Cape, December 21, 1936. Married to Dr Rosalie Small (nee Daniels).
Grew up until eight or nine years old in Goree, a hamlet Cape Town side of Robertson in the Boland, where my father was a schoolmaster to the farming communities in that countryside.
In 1945, my family moved to the Cape Flats, where again my father was schoolmaster, now for the Cape Flats children of Retreat – Steenberg, the old school building still exists (known at the time as Blouvlei Primary). I grew up (in my father’s style) rather staidly Dutch Reformed, but my mother was Islamic (Muslim) by birth, and my senior secondary education was entirely Catholic.
For my tertiary education I attended the University of Cape Town, studying Philosophy and Literature, and I lectured in Philosophy, and, later as professor in Social Work, at UWC.
My first love remains poetry and drama, which I have published extensively in both English and Afrikaans.
Studied at London School of Economics (LSE) and Oxford (England), travelled in US and had dramas staged in Atlanta, Georgia.
Honorary Doctorates from Universities of Natal, Port Elizabeth and UWC.
Received numerous awards and prizes for literary and other work, among others: Presidential Award for Meritorious Service (Gold, by former state president FW de Klerk); awards for life-long literary achievement by Fleur du Cap Theatre Awards, Department of Arts and Culture, the Afrikaans Language Council, and the Western Cape Ministry of Cultural Affairs; and the Hertzog Prize for my drama oeuvre.
An important acknowledgement is the institution of the “Adam Small Dialogue” Biennial Lectures in the Department of Social Work, UWC.