05/05/2026
Sharing this with permission from the original poster. Thank you so much for allowing this on our page, what a wonderful story. Fred N Joanie Smids
100 years ago today, May 4, 1926, at 8 pm, my grandparents, Isaac and Anna Esser, stepped off the C.N.R. train in Petrolia. Travelling by ship from The Netherlands, they transferred to a train in Quebec City and arrived with Catrina 3 1/2, Anna 2 1/2, George 1 1/2, and 3 month old baby Lena. Upon arrival, they were covered with soot and cinders from the lengthy train ride. Spring was in full bloom in Holland, so my grandmother was disappointed that it was intermittently raining and snowing in her new homeland. The station master explained in sign language to my grandfather (who didn’t speak English) that the sponsor office was closed for the day. He directed them to a local hotel; Grandpa was certain that they couldn’t stay there as he had only $30 in his pocket. The tired, hungry, cold family stood in front of the hotel while Grandpa went in search of the YMCA. When he found everything closed, he returned to find that his family was gone. A tall man, Mr. Fletcher, owner of the Fletcher Hotel, waved Grandpa into his hotel where he saw his family waiting. They were offered a table laden with food. Following this, they all had a much welcomed hot bath, and then were given a room that had beds for everyone. In the morning, breakfast was waiting for them. When it was time to leave, Grandpa fearfully opened his wallet, and Mr. Fletcher took out a ten dollar bill and gave four dollars back. My Grandfather never forgot his kindness and he and Mr. Fletcher became lifelong friends. The following year, in December of 1927, my mom was the first of six more children born to them in Canada. Ironically, during WW 2, young George left his adopted country as a Canadian soldier and sadly was killed and buried in the country of his birth.
My Grandparents never regretted leaving The Netherlands for Canada, were fiercely proud of their adopted land, quickly adapted, learned English, and were honoured to be called Canadian. Grandpa often called southwestern Ontario, “the nicest corner of God’s green earth.”
