All kinds of rumors swirled in that little Flemish village about America.  “Money grows on trees,” some said.  “They drink Coca-Cola at every meal,” said some others.  No one knew the truth.  But these rumors were enough to plant a dream in my grandfather’s head.  Oscar Ingels and his wife, Rachel, would bring their family to America.

This wasn’t some ill-thought idea.  Oscar and his family had been through a lot in Belgium.  My grandfather was a child when the poppies of WWI grew across the countryside of West Flanders.  The Depression had taken its toll on the economic fortunes of their home village, Wevelgem.

But World War II might have been the most destructive blow.  Two of Oscar and Rachel’s kids - my uncles - had died in the war.  One was a baby when a bombing raid shattered a nearby window.  The shards cascaded onto the nearby crib.  Another of my uncles died because there was no medicine to cure a wartime illness.

To this day, my aunts and uncles tell stories of how the family hid in their root cellar and prayed as the Germans marched into town.  I listen in wonder as they tell me how the bombs lit up the night sky.  That generation has lived an epic life.

So, it came to be that my grandfather led his family to the ship on which the picture above was taken.  It was named the Great Bear.  And when it sailed in 1954, it carried my father, aunt, uncle and grandparents on a great voyage.

The trip was not smooth.  Imagine spending two weeks on the seas of the Atlantic.  But finally, the ship sailed past the Statue of Liberty and into New Jersey.  Most of my family members spoke little English.  The picture seems almost ridiculous in its optimistic innocence.

But it was a new beginning.  And Monroe was waiting.  Michigan was not a bad place for a Belgian immigrant to settle.  There were many Belgian immigrants in the Detroit area.  The land was flat, just like home.  A great inland sea, the Great Lakes, mimicked the North Sea of my family’s past.

It wasn’t easy, but my family began to eke out a new life.  My grandfather fixed boilers for the IHM sisters.  And my dad and uncle and a partner started the Auto Body Plant.  Other family members cut hair and got married and lived the way that Americans live.

Most of my family has never been back to Belgium.  My dad certainly hasn’t.  They were and are forward-looking.  They taught their kids English and sent them to the best schools possible.  My generation of Ingels is filled with teachers, lawyers, accountants and entrepeneurs.  In short, my grandfather’s great dream has come true.

Monroe and America are not perfect places.  No place is.  But they are both places where it was possible for my family to realize a great dream.

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