Opa Johan's Page

Aloen-aloen Bandung in 1930's

Opa Johan was one of Bandung citizen. He born in Bandung, on 1924 and left fromx Bandung on 1954 due to political condition that not conducive on that time. His house waszcvvs located in Lembangweg (Jalan Setiabudhi) and his last office is in G.E.B.O company at Groote Postweg accross of Alun-alun Bandung (right now Gedung PLN at Jalan Asia Afrika). He become my opa since the beginning we have been correpondence in email. Now he lives in North Carolina, US and still remember most of details about his life in Bandung..

This is some quotes from his emails: 

Hereby I send the picture of us as young family on the Harley

 The family on the Harley Davidson picture was taken in 1952 in front of the Lembang house. I sit on the tank like the military riders in WWII. I am there 28 years old. Behind me sits Richard (2), Julia (4) and my Dutch wife Maria also 28. The Harley is a true story in itself. I needed transport to go to work in Bandung, but had no money to buy a car or even a motor cycle. In the yard the japs had left a heap of car and motor cycle parts. I found half a motor engine I recognize as that of a 1927 Harley Davidson. 1000 cc head side valve. It was full dirt and worms crawling out. It had only one cylinder left that was frozen to the piston. That was what I started with. My father (architect and engineer) said that I never could do anything with that piece of junk. My brother Arie (engineer) said the same. My cousin Leo Beretty ( student engineer at your university) said that it would become a very dangerous machine if I ever could make something out of it. I was stubborn and a smart elik. To make a long story short. I  keep on collecting parts from benkels junk yards and even the passar maling in Bandung. From all the parts I collected I could use about one third. So this is how I built a very useful, very trustworthy and very powerful vehicle that gave me and my family the best service during my last years in Indonesia. The frame was 1922. The engine was 1927 and completely built up from scratch. The tank was old and leaking and I repaired it by soldering a new skin over the old. The gearbox was from a side span motor and I had to block the reverse gear. I bought that in the passar maling in Bandung for 19 rupiah. ( tawar, tawar). The steering bar and fork came from a 1942 Harley and a welder from my (G.E.B.O. ) company, where I worked as a statistician, helped me to convert the fork to fit the old frame and also helped me to put the exhaust system ( made from piece of elctric pole and truck exhaust pipe) together. The wheels were old fashioned big diameter narrow tire wheel from an Indian motor cycle. I found moder rims and converted the wheels by shortening the spokes by way of a die that I made in my vise. ( I still have that vise). The saddle was original Harley and I upholstered it with goat leather and built in a cushion on the tank I could sit on. The head lamp was from a militairy weapon carrier and was very bright. Later I got a duo seat on which our children maid could sit. Quite a sight with the 5 of us in a row. My cost? 800 rupiah non inflation. When I left indonesia in 1954 I sold the Harley with the help of a benkel friend of mine to an indonesian teacher for 3000.00 rupiah. Who knows perhaps the monster is still around.

Here is a family. picture of my father Julius Henri (age 12) next to him Oma Juul, my oma. She was a daughter of a regent, Javanese. I don't know her maiden name or from where.

You know, we  children looked at our father for guidance to become an Indonesian citizen or not. Our family lived there already since the 18th century.  But in those days of take over the government and also some people were belligerent toward the belandas. Also my father had lost many indonesian friends who were put to death by Sukarno. So we choose Dutch and did not get a reentry permit once we were out the country. I still remember clearly how on the day of take over I stood by myself on the asphalt in the middle of jalan Lembang at the bottom gate of our property. In those days there was not much traffic. I realized then that I had no country no more and I cried. I looked at the street and said to myself: " You can't any longer call that your street Johan. Holland was politically my country, but emotionally Indonesia was. And look what happened; God blessed me greatly and modern technology let me be back in a flash. Thank you thank all of you. My old person is bathing in the same sunshine that stays over my head as over yours thousands of miles away. I think much about you all and old memories keep filtering in.

Bandoeng Train Station in 1930's