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The deceased was born June 11, 1875, in Holland and came to this country forty-eight years ago. She was married February 7, 1894, in Sheboygan County and for the past twenty years has been a resident of the Town of Easton. Surviving are the widower; eight children, Jesse and Elmer of the Town of Ringle and John, Hilbert, Floyd, Mrs. Lester Ten Haken, Mrs. Henry Nauta and Miss Ora Geurink of the Town of Easton; three brothers, Jacob Jensema of Wausau, George Jensema of Sheboygan and Abel Jensema of Gibbsville; one sister, Mrs. Henry Ten Dolle of gibbsville, and seven grandchildren. (Note: Jensema and Geurink family histories list Effie's birthdate as June 11, 1877.)

-- Attempting to gain a bit of information about the Jensema family while visiting the Groningen Court House, we only learned that the name there is pronounced Insema, and is about the most common name in all of the province. Jan and Klaaske (John and Clara) Jensema and family came to the United States when Effie was 2 years old, also settling in Sheboygan County. Her brothers were Jake, Abel, Gerrit and George and her sister, Lucy. Effie was the youngest."
Taken from Annie Geurink's writing, The Geurinks in America - Part 1.
(Note that the Jensema family records indicate that John Jensema came to the USA with his family in 1861 - the dates of their children's births were between 1863 and 1877. John's parents did not immigrate as far as I can tell, and his only family would have been his wife, so I am not certain the immigration date they have listed is correct.)

1. At 24 years of age Henry became the father of John Geurink Town of Lima, Sheboygan County, WI, November 12, 1894.
2. At 27 years of age Henry became the father of Jesse Ulyses Geurink Town of Lima, Sheboygan County, WI, August 3, 1897.
3. At 31 years of age Henry became the father of Clara Geurink town of Lima, Sheboygan County, WI, July 10, 1901.
4. At 33 years of age Henry became the father of Elmer Geurink Town of Lima, Sheboygan County, WI, March 28, 1903.
5. At 37 years of age Henry became the father of Ruth Hermina Geurink Town of Lima Sheboygan County, WI, October 1, 1907.
6. At 39 years of age Henry became the father of Hilbert Geurink Town of Easton, WI, at home, August 6, 1909.
7. At 41 years of age Henry became the father of Ora Geurink Town of Easton, WI, August 10, 1911.
8. At 43 years of age Henry became the father of Floyd Geurink Town of Easton, Marathon County WI, August 4, 1913.

Henry married Frances (Pietje) Hettinga Holster in Forestville Church, Ringle, July 5, 1932.
-- Henry and Frances were married by the Reverend Wiersma in the church parsonage.

Frances was born in Bolsward, Friesland, the Netherlands January 31, 1891. She was the daughter of Rimmer Hettinga and Janke Abma. She married Charles Holster in Wausau, WI at the Presbyterian church, September 13, 1915.

-- Text taken from Wausau newspaper published one week prior to the wedding: A marriage license has been issued to Miss Frances Hettinger of the town of Easton and Charles Holster of the town of Ringle. (Note: misspelling of the name Hettinga)

1. At 25 years of age Frances became the mother of Anna (Annie) Holster in the Town of Ringle, WI at her parent's home, July 30, 1916.
2. At 29 years of age Frances became the mother of Robert Holster in the Town of Ringle, WI, September 7, 1920.
3. At 35 years of age Frances became the mother of Peter Holster in the Town of Easton, WI, January 10, 1927.

-- Text taken from Wausau newspaper obituary: Funeral services for Mrs. Henry Geurink, 48, town of Easton, who died at home early yesterday morning after a year's illness, will be held tomorrow afternoon at 1 o'clock at Forestville Reformed Church. The Rev. H. J. Kregel will officiate and burial will be in the church cemetary.

Mrs. Geurink was born in the Netherlands January 31, 1891, and came to the United States in 1903. She was married July 5, 1932 in the town of Easton to Henry Geurink, her second husband. Mrs. Geurink was a member of the Dorcas Society of the Forestville congregation. Surviving are her husband, three children by her first marriage, Mrs. Floyd Geurink and Robert and Peter Holster, town of Easton; her brothers, Andrew, Riemer and Theodore Hettinga, town of Ringle, John, Roy, Peter and Ben Hettinga, town of Easton, Martin Hettinga, Vicksburg, Mich, and Siebren Hettinga, Walworth; one sister, Mrs. Henry Harsevoort, Prairie View, Kan., and three grandchildren.

Geurink Funeral: Burial in the church cemetary followed funeral services at home and at the Forestville Reformed Church this afternoon for Mrs. Henry Geurink, town of Easton, who died Sunday. The Rev. H.J. Kregal officiated. Six brothers of Mrs. Geurink served as pallbearers. They were Peter, Andrew, John, Theodore, Riemer, and Roy Hettinga.

This writing of Frances childhood and her family (the Hettingas) titled A Land For New Beginnings, by Annie Geurink: "Examining the worn tips of her high button shoes and readjusting her dark skirt to cover them, Frances, aged fourteen, was listening to Ma conversing in her beloved native tongue with the land agent's wife. They were awaiting the return of the agent with Pa and the boys who, this August afternoon in 1905, were inspecting their recently purchased woodland. Tonight they would share the supper and beds of their host and tomorrow complete the journey begun three years ago.

She thought again of their Bolsward home on the canal, with beds in the walls, in the Friesian province of Holland the two seasick weeks to New York Harbor, the noisy train and final wagon journey to Linwood, Nebraska, and the Dawson ranch where they would work and live.

Struggling with the strange life and language in this alien prairie state, and even more frightening to her Calvinistic persuasion, no church for worship in familiar language and creed, unhappy Ma persuaded Pa to investigate a possible land purchase near their countrymen for a modest price. Their best assets were sturdy backs and a willingness to work. So again a long train ride to Hatley, in North Central Wisconsin where the land agent met them and here they were! This move was a point of no return. Friends were gone and they were poor, but they were also proud. Here they must stay.

Ma shook her head in dismay the next morning, seeing only small sheds on a meager clearing left by the logging camps. The four rooms of a small square house had seemed adequate to Pa and the agent, but took on a different aspect when it came to making sleeping space for twelve! Using their carpenter skill, Peter, Martin and Siebren built bunks, around the walls of one room for the seven sons, of readily available posts and boards, while John and Roy were sent to find dry grass for the ticking bag mattresses. Brother Riemer tended to the horses while Andrew, with Pa, went to fetch two cows loaned by a neighbor until they could be paid for, and to be milked at first in the open yard. Small Sophie and Annie happily scampered off to explore the small sheds and pick berries, and Ma with Frances began unpacking the crates and cartons Andrew was now prying open.

Looking out to the narrow road they saw a wiry man in faded overalls, his big hat shading his long graying beard trundling a wheelbarrow. With a hearty Dutch greeting and handshake all around neighbor D. J. TePaske unloaded a sack of potatoes and two loaves of fresh bread wrapped in a clean towel, a gesture of welcome, plus the invitation to come for tea to meet his family. A bond of fellowship was quickly formed, then strengthened on Sunday as seven community families with a resident pastor of the Reformed faith gathered in one of the homes for worship. Again the melodious Hettinga voices raised a Psalm of praise in their native tongue, and for Ma, the hard knot of homesickness and apprehension dissolved into an occasional tear as her sweet voice joined in.

Too late in summer to raise a crop, the families livelihood lay in the abundant trees. Though never having felled a tree, the boys were strong and they would learn. Logs hauled to Ringle could by traded for groceries and supplies. There was plenty of fuel for keeping warm. The neighbors were kindred souls and already, Peter was courting dark haired, brown eyed Anna, eldest TePaske daughter. The younger brothers teased him unmercifully but Siebren, his eye on the lovely second daughter, Johanna, said 'Boys, that one is for me,’ and held his peace.

Oh the blisters on unaccustomed hands, the frostbite and chilblains - companions of frosty Wisconsin winters. Each son in turn chopped into feet and toes, yet mercifully kept all intact, in their learning process of cutting logs, railroad ties and firewood. Wryly considering the shoes with chop holes in it, wise cracking fun loving Siebren said ‘I’d better wear these today, it’s my turn to split wood!’ Soon he was back, his foot a bloody mass, submitting to the simple treatment of alcohol and clean rags, and he, in turn, sat, injured foot on a chair, reading from the scanty store of papers, pamphlets and books, some in the new language... for next to the family love for singing, came their love for reading. Starting to make beds, Frances would get lost in a book and although Ma purposely put the new papers lining the pantry shelves upside down with a tilt of the head Frances read them anyway!

Family hardship continued, for upon mastering the wood cutting they confronted a glutted market and the Ringle dealer would accept only pine and selected hard woods. With prices at an all time low, credit for deliveries never exceeded cost of needed supplies and allow for cash on hand The only solution was to clear the land and turn completely to agriculture, but what to do with all the trees? Log sheds were built and lumber was sawed for an addition to the house and a frame barn. Every use was pursued and the surplus stacked and burned Although their thrifty consciousness pricked at the waste, it was unavoidable. To further ease the economy, the boys hired out occasionally to farmers in other areas and Reimer opened a small blacksmith shop. The cleared land produced abundantly and available cash went toward the purchase of quality dairy cattle for which Pa’s young days with a Dutch Boer made him a competent judge. Also skilled in the butchering business, Pa and Andrew began to deliver meat by wagon to Wausau, a days journey.

A year after their arrival, Teddy was born. The local, self-taught midwife attended Ma instead of the Bolsward doctor. A year later, Ma was again ‘unwell’ (which was not discussed openly) and lacking medical attention, her swollen feet and fingers indicated serious problems. The baby’s birth brought fearful convulsions followed by blinding headaches from which she never fully recovered.

The boys now dubbed Pa ‘Father Jacob’, after the Biblical patriarch, and suggested this new son be named ‘Benjamin, last of the twelve’. Betie became Frances’ charge, her foot mechanically rocking his cradle beside her bed, stilling the cries that were unbearable to Ma’s aching head at night.

All was not work and no play for this loving family. the boys were master storytellers and practical joke players. But when Pa was around his loud clearing of the throat ended the horseplay, for Pa was the undisputed authority and head of the home! Neighbors met for visiting singing and young people’s parties.

One special time, Frances was to have a new dress! Into the night ma stitched on the black and white check whose sweeping skirt enhanced her petite figure. The popular Frances happily anticipated leading the singing clapping folk games, ‘Wheel and a Whack’ and ‘Captain Jinks’. Next morning Ma burst into tears, seeing the lovely dress spread out to dry, its hem bedraggled with mud from the long walk through wooded trails in a spring thaw.

With Ma not well, Frances now assumed household responsibility and a brother was delegated by turns to help wash and carry water and wood. Pa prepared each days vegetables and huge cuts of meat. Heaps of homemade bread, cookies and raisin cake appeased hearty appetites. Food was simple but abundant and the home was open to continual new immigrant arrivals and friends and walking a distance to Sunday School in the new frame church were dinner guests before the afternoon service. Family fortune was now flourishing.

Then clouds began to form. Not the hoped for rain clouds this dry summer, but smoke clouds. Fanned by a hot summer wind small fires multiplied each day. Tree after tree fell, not by ax or saw, but by flames reaching the rich pitch and then the tops of the stately conifers and exploding them into flying fire-brands, starting more fires. One was in the hay swath Andrew was raking and he doused it with the pot of coffee Annie brought for lunch.

Now the entire community fought fire day and night with sleep or rest impossible. They were doggedly battling against this roaring demon which threatened to consume all: trees, homes and their livelihood. Girls and women prayed for rain while making huge pots of coffee with sandwiches to sustain the weary men and boys. Siebren, collapsing into sleep in his tracks, was immediately awakened by a giant spark burning through his jacket.

As flames reached near-by cut over tops from log making it seemed all was lost. the children were sent to the neighbors and Frances and Sophie packed household goods into baskets and bed sheets. Waiting in the yard for a horse and wagon to bring them to safety, they saw the bearded Dominie coming down the road his voice raised in prayer. His supplication was like the ancient prophets for an act of Almighty God to save the land for his flock. Smoke had obscured the sky for days. Was the sun shining, or were there clouds? A drop of rain fell, and another, faster and faster. Ahead of a mighty downpour baskets and bundles were hurried in as Ma with breaking voice exclaimed, Thanks be to God!’ Into the kitchen trouped the wet, smoke blackened, bone weary fire fighters who dropped to the floor and were instantly asleep for the rest of the day. That evening, washed and combed, with neighbors and their beloved Dominie, they gathered for thankful& prayer to their Heavenly Father and provider.

Life would continue, happiness and hardship going hand in hand in this community now so dear to them, through their children's children of the present generation.”
(This account of the Hettinga family, settling in Wisconsin in 1905, was written in story form as a historical happening for Wisconsin’s Bicentennial observance. The events are based on actual happenings and an attempt was made to include all of the family members’ names. All events did not necessarily happen in the exact sequence of this story. By: Annie Geurink - Original story as told by her mother, Frances, and other relatives. Dated: February 25, 1976)

-Taken from a Spotlight writing of Annie Geurink entitled
“Mother of Yesteryear”,
a story of Frances Holster/Geurink’s life and Annie’s remembrances of her:

“Pietje Antje Hettinga, born in Holland came with her parents, brothers and sisters to the Forestville community in 1905, after a few years employment on a ranch in the Nebraska community of their sponsors. The industrious family soon repaid their travel debt and found compatible fellowships and land of their own. The land was no bargain with its pine stumps left by lumber speculators, hardwood trees virtually useless on the glutted market and stones - oh what stones! But underneath lay soil profitable for agriculture, and by various means and God’s grace, the family of 14 kept the wolf from the door. Pietje took the American name of Frances, and by age 18, became chief cook and housekeeper, plus the care of a baby brother for her mother who was often ill. Other relatives and friends stayed with them at times while establishing their homes and each day 16-18 sat around the big farm kitchen table, as Frances cooked and cleaned by day and rocked the cradle at night.

Life was not all work the community young folks had plenty of fun. No less the popular Frances. Her lovely voice was often heard in church, where of necessity, without formal lessons she also played the organ.

During succeeding years, her sisters now grown Frances tried her wings and spent some months with her Nebraska relatives and worked as a cook in various affluent homes in Wausau, Birnamwood and Kalamazoo.

Charley Holster, aged 21, came to Bimamwood from Holland and visited the Hettinga family. A blacksmith by trade he joined Frances’ brother Reimer in the thriving Ringle blacksmith shop. Frances often visited her brother’s family and prodded by Reimer, Charley finally found the courage to take Frances home!

The long buggy ride from Ringle to Forestville on a summer evening didn’t hurt any to nurture a budding romance! Charley then spent a year in Illinois working in the grain fields so that he might purchase a 40-acre farm in the town of Ringle. Frances promptly packed her suitcase with the handmade dresses, later to become a part of her trousseau, followed Charley and worked for a rancher’s wife in cooking for the harvesters.

On their wedding day, September 1915, Charley and Frances drove to Wausau in a buggy to be married by the Presbyterian minister, as the Forestville church was vacant, and then had their picture taken. On the long ride it rained. Frances looked fine in the picture, but Charley’s Sunday suit and curly hair bore much evidence of tending his horse in the rain! Their first home was a cozy log house, also my birthplace. Frances hung her curtains and arranged her hope chest treasures with their modest furnishings and planted her garden, while Charley bent his strong back to the stumps, stones and plow. Together they milked the cows, harvested the hay and dreamed of a future with a productive farm, comfortable home, a good education for their 3 children and assuming the responsibility of the opportunities, pride and joy of American citizens. Red letter days were when the new sewing machine came for Frances, and Charley bought another horse as teammate to his trusty Dan. The dreams were short lived for in 13 years, after a brief illness, Charley’s earthly life was done.

A few years before, they had moved to a larger farm, which Frances continued to run with the help of her youngest brother Ben, but shortly the ‘Great Depression’ was upon us, plus the severe drought of the 1930’s. The farm was sold and merged with another. Frances married Henry Geurink and we moved to another home. Seven years later Frances contracted a fatal illness and at age 48 her life was over as well.

I think often of those bittersweet years with Frances and Charley. Both were learners and do’ers. Learning was deemed a privilege, ridicule of other nationality or religious belief was forbidden in our home as well as dishonesty, and God was revered and honored. Frances, with only one year in American schools spoke English without an accent, was extremely well read interested in the arts, spelled accurately in English and Dutch, taught herself to cook, sew and all manner of handwork, and finished Charley’s unexpired term as school clerk. She taught me songs, poems and stories, sewed my pretty dresses, although I am sorry to say I would often have preferred the gaudy ready mades of my peers! I loved to hear her tell of her first 12 years in Holland, her girlhood wardrobe, friends, Charley’s courtship and the exploits of her 9 mischievous brothers! Never again have I tasted cinnamon rolls, doughnuts or tomato soup comparable to hers. I think of her on Mother’s Day and other days, and I am humbly grateful that my first home was with Frances and Charley, who for a few years influenced my life.

To Henry John Geurink & Family