Eina! and Skande!

. . and then tragedy.

—– Original message from Etienne Joubert in 2014 —– (translation below)

Good morning all you Harrismith followers!

Who was Paul de Witt . . ??? . .  Skande gemaak vir Harrismith se mense.

KAAPSTAD – ’n Predikant en bekende restaurateur in Hentiesbaai is Maandag in die vroeë oggendure deur doeanebeamptes met sowat 11 400 witmossels en 20 kg calamari  in sy besit by die ­Vioolsdrift-grenspos vasgetrek.

Ds. Paul de Witt (63) het die twee spesies, wat albei beskerm word, sonder vervoerpermitte in sy Nissan X-Trail van Kaapstad na Hentiesbaai vervoer.

De Witt is omstreeks 01:30 deur die polisie voorgekeer en sy voertuig is deursoek. Verskeie sakke vol mossels met ’n geskatte waarde van R11 400, en ’n sak met 20 kg calamari is agter in sy voertuig gevind.

De Witt is deur die eenheid teen georganiseerde misdaad in hegtenis geneem en daar is beslag gelê op sy voertuig, sowel as die sakke seekos.

De Witt is ’n boorling van Harrismith.

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I immediately contacted my mate Steph de Witt:

Hey Steph
I vaguely remember a Paul de Witt. Who and what was he op Herries?
He got caught with his hand in the cookie jar!
Cheers
Koos

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On 2014/07/08 Steph de Witt replied:

Koos! Dis my bloedfamilie, my own cousin !!

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Me: Fokkit I can still live with the witmossel-steel part, but the DOMINEE part? THAT’s the skande!

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Translation:

Eina! and Skande! – ouch! and scandal!

A Harrismith old boy who became a preacherman was caught smuggling protected seafood – mussels and calamari – from South Africa into Namibia.

He was an interesting character: My sister remembers him as one of a gang of naughty / rude boys as a teenager. As does happen, he became a preacher. But as less often happens, a preacher who operated a pub. He sold salvation on Sundays and booze from Mondays to Saturdays! Like, “create your own sinners”.

His pub obviously needed seafood so he “fetched” some from across the border – illegally. And got caught.

Sadly, he died in a car wreck soon after!

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Subject: Paul de Witt

Hey Et

Steph has just informed me that Paul died in a car accident on Friday.

Dammitall. From sudden fame / notoriety to tragic end.

Yo ....that's sad, my condolences if you make contact again.
But we know he's gone to Paradise, where there's lots of white & black 
muscles & of course, calamari .........!!
Cheers
Et 
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paul de witt case
Vraagtekens oor kroegdominee se storie 

Let’s Save us some Souls!

The new preacherman at the Christian Church of Apache Oklahoma, looked me up after he’d been in town a while and invited me over to his place. Turns out he was interested in becoming a mission-nary to Africa and wanted to meet one of the real-deal Africans he’d heard and read so much about. Maybe suss out just how much we needed saving?
A HUGE man, six feet and nine inches tall in his socks, Ron Elrick wore a string tie, a 10 gallon stetson and cowboy boots, making him damn near eight feet tall fully dressed as he stooped through doors and bent down to shake people’s hands. I met his tiny little wife who was seemingly half his height, and his two lil daughters in the small house next to the church.

Christian church_3.jpg
A recent google earth pic

He was an ex-Canadian Mountie and a picture on his mantelpiece showed him towering over John Wayne, when Wayne was in Canada to film a movie. Of course, in the movie the made sure they used Mounties and fellow actors shorter than Wayne!

John Wayne & Mountie

Soon he invited me to join him on a men’s retreat to “God’s Forty Acres” in NE Oklahoma. The yanks are way ahead of Angus Buchan in this “get away from the wife and come back and tell her you’re the boss” shit. I mean, this was 1973! He learned his scam from them. I had made it known from my arrival in Apache that I would join anybody and go anywhere to see the state – and get out of school – I mean I’d already DONE matric!

So I said ‘Sure!’ and we hopped into his church-owned muddy pinky-brown woody station wagon, something like that ’53 Buick Roadmaster in the pic, and roared off from Caddo county heading north-east, bypassing Oklahoma City and Tulsa to somewhere near Broken Arrow or Cherokee county  – towards the Arkansas border, anyway. Me n Ron driving like Thelma and Louise.

Non-stop monologue on the way. He didn’t need any answers, did Ron. I just had to nod him yes and he could talk non-stop for hours on end. At the retreat there were hundreds of men & boys just like him, all fired up for the Lawd, bellowing the Retreat Song at the drop of a hat:
“In Gahd’s Fordy Yacres . . !!”We musta sang it 400 times in that weekend. If I was God I’d have done some smiting.

We left at last and headed back south-west, wafting along like on a mattress in that long slap ’53 Buick Roadmaster wagon, when Ron suddenly needed an answer: Had I ever seen a porno movie? WHAT? I hadn’t? Amazing! Well, jeez, I mean goodness . . , he felt it as sort of like a DUTY to enlighten me and reveal to me just how evil and degraded these movies could be.

So we detoured into the wicked and depraved city of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Maybe he regarded it as practice for the mission-nary work he was wanting to do among us Africans? We sat through a skin flick in a seedy movie house. It was the most skin ‘n pubic hair ‘n pelvis ‘n wrinkly organs this 18yr old boykie from the Vrystaat had seen to date so it was, after all, educational. Thin plot, though.

I s’pose you could say I got saved and damned all on one weird weekend road trip.

footnote:

Ron did get to Africa as a mission-nary. He was posted to Jo-hannesburg. Lotsa ‘sinners’ in Jo-hannesburg, I suppose. I’m just not sure they need ‘saving’ by a Canadian Mountie.