Danie was the oddball in the family. Different from the other children, a younger brother and an older sister. The middle child, often the one less noticed, but not in Danie’s case. He was a plump, temperamental, stubborn little boy. His grandfather always commented that if ever Danie were to drown, they would find him upstream.
As
mentioned in a previous post To Drink or Not to Drink, he was very
sensitive to certain happenings as a small child – he had premonitions and could
sense when someone’s end was near, crying hysterically in their presence. This peculiarity
was frowned upon by the church and he was anointed by the clergy to remove the ‘evil
spirit’ within him. This act only made him fearful of his “gift” and he
distanced himself from it.
He was very
shy as a boy, but in his early teenage years, a sudden awakening occurred which
changed his personality considerably. Living on a small farm was great fun for
the two brothers. Their father, Roy, bought both boys pellet guns and together
they had hours of fun and naughtiness on the farm (to this day, Danie is an
excellent marksman). But it was the weekends which brought fear into Danie’s
heart. The farm workers would get drunk and fighting always ensued. If it
wasn’t a poor wife who was brutally beaten, then it was a stab wound or axe in
the skull. The offended drunken party would come up to the main house asking
Danie’s father to intervene. Sometimes he would go down to their huts to sort
out the dispute and this made Danie extremely anxious, fearing that his father
might be attacked and injured.
Danie’s
father was concerned that he was a “soft” boy and after voicing his concern one
night to his mother, it was accidentally overheard by Danie.
He decided
to take up boxing to “toughen” himself up, but it was on one of those frightful
weekends that his character change took place. The drunken issue was rampant, the chaos fueled by the consumption of homemade brew. Roy was getting ready to
head down to the workers huts, sjambok in hand and as agitated as a bull in a
China shop. He had hardly left the house, when Danie, plucking up all the
courage he had in his thirteen-year-old heart, ran down after his dad. Something
ignited within him and he stormed into the mayhem, pushing over the inebriated
and overturning objects. He had overcome his fear.
After this
incident, Danie no longer disappeared when fights broke out. On the contrary,
he now welcomed them. He had a new ability and he was good at it. It was in one
of these school fights that Danie stood up to the bully, knocking him
senseless. The boy’s girlfriend rushed in and slapped poor Danie full in the
face. He, of course, was taught by his father that a man never lifts his hand
to a woman, so he took the slap and didn’t retaliate. The burning sensation was
still hot on his face when his sister stormed in and slapped the off-guard girl
upside down. There was a whole new level of respect and fear for the Coetzee
kids after that.
Danie and
his father had very similar temperaments, and his father was very protective of
his children. Danie’s brother, Douw, got a beating from the woodwork teacher at
school one day, but the teacher missed his arse (bum) leaving a massive welt on
his lower back. When his father saw this, he fumed, but said nothing more in
that moment. The next day, instead of just dropping off the children, he parked
the car and told the boys to show him who this teacher was. Now Roy was a big
man and not to be trifled with. The teacher, sensing why this big man was
approaching him with so much vigor, turned on his heel and fled through the
school corridors, his lab coat flapping behind him. Roy then went to the
principal’s office and demanded that the teacher apologize to his son in front
of the whole school. The principal
conceded, against his will, and the teacher gave his public apology.
Years
later, when the two brothers were strapping young men, they happened to bump
into this teacher in the video rental store. This poor man had obviously never
forgotten them and ran away like a frightened child.
Danie left
school early to start his mechanical apprenticeship at the age of sixteen.
During these careless adolescent years, he decided to join the AWB (Afrikaner
Weerstands Beweging) – a rightwing, extremist group. He was a patriot and a real Afrikaner. He got into so much trouble with his brother
and a batshit-crazy ex-army friend, narrowly escaping imprisonment.
When we
started dating, our first date was a blind date, the second an AWB meeting, and
I still married him!!
Thankfully
I convinced Danie to leave this extremist group, but his battle with depression
was very severe at times. After he tried to commit suicide a few years into our
marriage, I convinced him to get rid of his pistol and shotgun too. Just the
thought of these weapons in the house made me extremely anxious.
Danie
eventually went to see a psychiatrist at the insistence of his mom and myself.
This doctor said that it would be best to treat him at a mental hospital for a
few days. It was like wrestling a boar into a shoe box. When we arrived at the high
security facility, we were led to the ward where he would be treated. As we
entered the thirty-bed ward, the first thing we noticed was that there were no other white
faces to be seen. Not one. BOOM! We left abruptly and never returned.
My in-laws
decided to build themselves a new house and we decided to move into the
house on the small farm where Danie had grown up. It was a really old house,
but we patched it up and made it home. The children had a huge green lawn with big Jacaranda trees, a trampoline, playhouse, jungle gym and sandpit – paradise. We put security
fencing around the house and yard because the adjacent farmer had given living
space to a rowdy group of rural people. At first it wasn’t too bad, but
then it became a real problem. The drinking and loud music was next level. The
police were there on a few occasions but didn’t solve the issue at hand. So
Danie, being the marksman that he was, bought himself a professional crossbow. Very
early one Saturday morning at the crack of dawn, with the ghetto blaster still plugged in and
positioned on an outdoor drum, Danie lay in the long grass taking aim at the
offending instrument. There was loud music, then there was deathly silence. The
arrow went right through, narrowly missing the drunk men surrounding it. I just
knew that trouble was on its way when I saw them pointing in the direction of
our property, so I called the police.
Later that morning,
the police came over and the commanding officer, who was sympathetic to our
dilemma, quietly handed Danie the crossbow arrow and told him to be more
careful in the future. Close call!
We moved
soon after this for sanity’s sake.
It was
shortly after Danie tried to take his life in 1994, that he had a complete
change of heart. Renewing his faith and re-dedicating his life to God, he
decided to put all his energy and devotion into serving God and others, instead
of hatred and politics. His dealings with his workers changed. Where they
formerly called him MoKgama (to choke someone), they now called him Moruti (the
preacher).
Danie got
very involved in church activities, evangelical rallies, even starting soup
kitchens. The denomination to which we then belonged was very much into end-time
prophesies and believed that, according to the book of Revelation in the bible,
the Pope of the Catholic Church was the Anti-Christ. Well, in 1995, Pope John
Paul II decided to come to South Africa and Danie saw this as a great
opportunity to organize a protest and visibly express the views of the church. He
approached several “big” men in the church, but the typical response was: “Don’t
rock the boat,” or “Don’t make waves.” He was irritated by this response and
felt that these men were cowards for not standing up for their beliefs. He decided
to go ahead and plan the protest despite their opposition.
It was
difficult to determine the exact time of the Pope’s arrival. Everything was
very hush-hush. But we knew that he was arriving on the Saturday and planned
accordingly. The arrival was at the Jan Smuts International Airport (now Oliver
Thambo). We made a big banner with two side pockets for the three-meter-long
poles, and with very clear words: Only one mediator between God and man,
Jesus, not the Pope. Very hesitantly, a good friend, Benny, and my brother, Eugene, decided
that Danie could not go alone and accompanied him to the airport. Crowds were
already gathering, but there was still no indication of when the plane would
land. It was only when the media started arriving that they new it must be
close. Then the bus loads of priests and prelates in their glorious apparel
started arriving. Danie and his companions, all wearing the same T-shirts with
the words The Truth shall set you free printed on the front, took the
banner and poles and walked into the airport. Airport security was over the top,
with police assistance, to ensure that the Pope would be in no danger.
The two
companions were still hesitating, but Danie put the pole in their hands on the
one side and unrolled the banner to its full six square meter size. A hush fell
over the crowd, as you can imagine. Who would dare to say anything against this
holy man? Well, obviously, there was someone. After the initial hush, there was
a sudden explosion of disgust and anger, to such a degree, that the security
ushered the three men out of the building and ordered them off the grounds. Not
being deterred, the three musketeers took the banner and set it up right
outside the exit of the airport grounds. Cars slowed down to read the banner
and people swore and spat at them. After an hour or so an entourage of black
cars came past. A window opened and the face of Nelson Mandela appeared,
shaking his head in disapproval, then they drove on.
What more
can be said about this incident? At least the media said something … hahaha. Thinking
back to these crazy moments is sometimes embarrassing (especially since we’re
no longer religious), but at the same time proof of the dedication and degree to
which someone will go when convinced that he is doing the right thing. It’s
like I said in the beginning, Danie is not quite normal.
There’s so much more to share, but for now, I think I’ll stop here.
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| Airport Banner |
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| Newspaper Article 1 |
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| Newspaper Article 3 |
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| Newspaper Article 2 |
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