A good old custom in these days – seventy years ago – was that freshmen were shaved bald, sat only on the floor and behaved humble to older students. And so I met one of them in September 1939, sitting on the ground and waiting to be spoken to. I was a student at Delfts Technical University and my fraternity was “Het Delfts Studenten Corps”.

I asked him his name, where upon he answered with a strong Indonesian accent: Heyning, sir. Assuming that my friends had told him to put a joke on me, I shook him up and again asked him to tell his name. And again he said: Heyning, sir and after a few times: Bart Heyning, sir. It really took me some minutes to realize that he was serious.

Well, I was convinced knowing, or at- least knowing of- all people entitled to carry the name Heyning, so we sat together and in the end I had to acknowledge him as a family member and drank some beer—in fact I should adress him as my Uncle.