Jerry was raised in a Christian home and had a life-long faith. He graduated from Grandville High School in 1948. He was an athletic star in Football, Basketball and Track. Jerry married his high school sweetheart in 1949, then shortly thereafter served our country in the Navy at Pearl Harbor during the Korean War. After starting his family in Michigan, five years later he and Betty decided to move to California to be near Betty's family. After six years they moved back to Grand Rapids in 1962 where there were more friends and family. After various jobs, Jerry found his calling in automobile sales which he continued for the next 30 years until retirement. Although he enjoyed helping people find transportation his free time passion was golf. Whether in the Senior League in West Michigan or on Florida courses in winter, golf was a respite from the challenges of life. He played it until he could no longer walk.
My father was born at home, 830 Hazen street in Grand Rapids. His grandmother, Icie was the midwife. His only sibling and sister Jan was born eighteen months later. So Jerry grew up during the great depression. My grand parents lived frugally all their lives as a result of that hardship, as most from that generation did. Jerry attended Burton elementary in Grand Rapids. Like his own father, my dad was a story teller. One important story was when he defended a handicapped boy that was picked on walking to Burton school. As a caring person he told the bully that if he didn't stop he was going to deck him. The bully did not stop and my father clobbered him. Later he was pulled out of class and sent to the principle's office. He explained his side of the story which the principle understood. Jerry received no punishment, but was told to let the principle handle it if it happened again. Later in life as a car salesman numerous times he felt bad that some salesman would gouge customers, which he had a conscience against.
When my grandfather got the chance he wanted to farm again, so he moved the family to Jenison. My father continued his education in a one room school house, and then entered Grandville High School. At the high school Jerry became one of the top athletes in football, basketball, baseball and track. When he was a sophomore, my grandfather suffered a great loss as a disease took all his cattle and he had to sell the farm and move back to Grand Rapids. Grandville HS did not want to loose my dad's athletic contribution so they offered him an athletic scholarship tuition waver. This leads to my father's second trait, he was very competitive. As a junior the won the state championship in the 220 yard dash and took 2nd place in the 100 yard dash to a student from Detroit. One of his life long favorite stories was the "touchdown play". While a running back and playing against Rockford, my dad was unhappy with the coaches play calling which he blamed on his being the defensive coach from Hope college, as such my father did not feel that his speed was being used. He told the quarterback, Mac McKinney, his best friend, to ignore the coaches play and to pitch it to him so he could run down the sideline. This resulted in the first touchdown. The coach called him over and said, "what play was that?" my father retorted "the touchdown play" the coach said, "Vredevelt, sit the bench." He was still on the bench when the second half started, eventually the coach said, "Vredevelt, run that play again, but this time have them hike it to you." He ran it again and scored once more. They won the game 14-0.
After high school, my father and his best friend Ward Mckinney signed up for the Navy. They both served a year and returned home. My mother was distraught at this turn of events. As a result I have a year of love letters that we kids were never allowed to read until both of them had passed. When my father was called back into service following the start of the Korean war. My mother planned the wedding shortly before he shipped out to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My father like his dad had a sense of humor, he was good at one liners and a prank now and then. My mother arrived in Hawaii months after my dad. My father told my mother to arrive at a softball game at the base and hang out by the other dugout. His fellow players took notice of this beautiful woman and my dad told them he was going to meet her. The boys told him, "she was way out of his league, Vredevelt" my dad said, "we'll see," he went over and talked and gave her a kiss. The teammates went wild with jealousy. He enjoyed that story for years.
After Hawaii they settled back to Grand Rapids. The job scene was uncertain and my mom's parents were living in LosAngeles, so after Loni was born they moved to LA. My dad started work as an insurance salesman. I was born there in 1958, but by 1960 there was a national recession so in 1962 we were back in Michigan, living around the corner from my dad's parents in Wyoming. My father again went selling insurance, later on my mom's brother, suggested he try for a car sales job at Stall Buick in 1967. There he found his true calling in automobile sales for the next 30 years until retirement. He enjoyed meeting people and helping them find transportation. He was very good at what he did, and as a teenager I heard lots of stories about customers and how to "close the deal" In my 20s when I was living with buddies, I had a friend Steve who needed a car, I said go see my dad. Steve came home later and said, "Your dad sold me a car, but now I don't want it." I said, then go back and tell him you've changed your mind. The next day Steve took my advice and went to back to get out of the deal. When Steve came home later that day, I said "how did it go?" He looked at me and said, "I got out of that car, but then he sold me another one and now I don't want that car either." My dad was a professional salesman.
My mother was always a bit unsatisfied with our Wyoming home, she wanted to do more entertaining, but the house had not have a dining room, you had to eat in the kitchen. My mother was often on the search for a bigger home. Which leads to my father's attitude of contentment, he was usually always fine in whatever situation he was in. He would always say regarding a bigger house, "You can only live in one room at a time." Eventually my mother got her dining area at Silver leaf condominiums. He was content with the car he drove, the clubs he had and the size of his garage, if they functioned well, he didn't need a bigger or better anything. In the last couple years despite the falls from a weakening body, even bruised and sore, when you asked him how he was doing, invariably, "I'm good."
My father had two passions as long as I knew him. The first was health. He was one of the first of his generation to quit smoking once the warnings started. He soon found a store called Harvest Health where he acquainted himself with every supplement and book on home remedies. Prevention magazine was always on the coffee table. Jerry and I remember the health pancakes and bread so heavy we once used it as a door stop. He was affectionately called "Doc" as many of his coworkers would come to him for advice. Marie and I still use two of his air purifiers. Part of his diet plan was always to eat your vegetables. At one of Henry's birthday parties, a young man passed by on the vegetables, Jerry held out his hand shaking it, "this is what my peers at the Lowell Senior center look like because they did't eat their vegetables. Look at my hands, holding them out, rock solid."
My father's second passion was golf. My brother had taken up the sport while in college. About 1970 he introduced our dad to it and it became a lifelong passion. He enjoyed every part of the game. He joined leagues and took his clubs down south during the winter. My mother was afraid of becoming a golf widow, so she took up the game as well. Some of my fondest memories are tagging along to learn the game when I was a teenager. Occasionally I subbed in his leagues, but durning the summers I would golf with my parents all around Kent county. He had many great shots, I think even having up to 6 holes in one. For his 87th birthday he joined Jerry, Henry and I at Saskatoon.
My father was born at home, 830 Hazen street in Grand Rapids. His grandmother, Icie was the midwife. His only sibling and sister Jan was born eighteen months later. So Jerry grew up during the great depression. My grand parents lived frugally all their lives as a result of that hardship, as most from that generation did. Jerry attended Burton elementary in Grand Rapids. Like his own father, my dad was a story teller. One important story was when he defended a handicapped boy that was picked on walking to Burton school. As a caring person he told the bully that if he didn't stop he was going to deck him. The bully did not stop and my father clobbered him. Later he was pulled out of class and sent to the principle's office. He explained his side of the story which the principle understood. Jerry received no punishment, but was told to let the principle handle it if it happened again. Later in life as a car salesman numerous times he felt bad that some salesman would gouge customers, which he had a conscience against.
When my grandfather got the chance he wanted to farm again, so he moved the family to Jenison. My father continued his education in a one room school house, and then entered Grandville High School. At the high school Jerry became one of the top athletes in football, basketball, baseball and track. When he was a sophomore, my grandfather suffered a great loss as a disease took all his cattle and he had to sell the farm and move back to Grand Rapids. Grandville HS did not want to loose my dad's athletic contribution so they offered him an athletic scholarship tuition waver. This leads to my father's second trait, he was very competitive. As a junior the won the state championship in the 220 yard dash and took 2nd place in the 100 yard dash to a student from Detroit. One of his life long favorite stories was the "touchdown play". While a running back and playing against Rockford, my dad was unhappy with the coaches play calling which he blamed on his being the defensive coach from Hope college, as such my father did not feel that his speed was being used. He told the quarterback, Mac McKinney, his best friend, to ignore the coaches play and to pitch it to him so he could run down the sideline. This resulted in the first touchdown. The coach called him over and said, "what play was that?" my father retorted "the touchdown play" the coach said, "Vredevelt, sit the bench." He was still on the bench when the second half started, eventually the coach said, "Vredevelt, run that play again, but this time have them hike it to you." He ran it again and scored once more. They won the game 14-0.
After high school, my father and his best friend Ward Mckinney signed up for the Navy. They both served a year and returned home. My mother was distraught at this turn of events. As a result I have a year of love letters that we kids were never allowed to read until both of them had passed. When my father was called back into service following the start of the Korean war. My mother planned the wedding shortly before he shipped out to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My father like his dad had a sense of humor, he was good at one liners and a prank now and then. My mother arrived in Hawaii months after my dad. My father told my mother to arrive at a softball game at the base and hang out by the other dugout. His fellow players took notice of this beautiful woman and my dad told them he was going to meet her. The boys told him, "she was way out of his league, Vredevelt" my dad said, "we'll see," he went over and talked and gave her a kiss. The teammates went wild with jealousy. He enjoyed that story for years.
After Hawaii they settled back to Grand Rapids. The job scene was uncertain and my mom's parents were living in LosAngeles, so after Loni was born they moved to LA. My dad started work as an insurance salesman. I was born there in 1958, but by 1960 there was a national recession so in 1962 we were back in Michigan, living around the corner from my dad's parents in Wyoming. My father again went selling insurance, later on my mom's brother, suggested he try for a car sales job at Stall Buick in 1967. There he found his true calling in automobile sales for the next 30 years until retirement. He enjoyed meeting people and helping them find transportation. He was very good at what he did, and as a teenager I heard lots of stories about customers and how to "close the deal" In my 20s when I was living with buddies, I had a friend Steve who needed a car, I said go see my dad. Steve came home later and said, "Your dad sold me a car, but now I don't want it." I said, then go back and tell him you've changed your mind. The next day Steve took my advice and went to back to get out of the deal. When Steve came home later that day, I said "how did it go?" He looked at me and said, "I got out of that car, but then he sold me another one and now I don't want that car either." My dad was a professional salesman.
My mother was always a bit unsatisfied with our Wyoming home, she wanted to do more entertaining, but the house had not have a dining room, you had to eat in the kitchen. My mother was often on the search for a bigger home. Which leads to my father's attitude of contentment, he was usually always fine in whatever situation he was in. He would always say regarding a bigger house, "You can only live in one room at a time." Eventually my mother got her dining area at Silver leaf condominiums. He was content with the car he drove, the clubs he had and the size of his garage, if they functioned well, he didn't need a bigger or better anything. In the last couple years despite the falls from a weakening body, even bruised and sore, when you asked him how he was doing, invariably, "I'm good."
My father had two passions as long as I knew him. The first was health. He was one of the first of his generation to quit smoking once the warnings started. He soon found a store called Harvest Health where he acquainted himself with every supplement and book on home remedies. Prevention magazine was always on the coffee table. Jerry and I remember the health pancakes and bread so heavy we once used it as a door stop. He was affectionately called "Doc" as many of his coworkers would come to him for advice. Marie and I still use two of his air purifiers. Part of his diet plan was always to eat your vegetables. At one of Henry's birthday parties, a young man passed by on the vegetables, Jerry held out his hand shaking it, "this is what my peers at the Lowell Senior center look like because they did't eat their vegetables. Look at my hands, holding them out, rock solid."
My father's second passion was golf. My brother had taken up the sport while in college. About 1970 he introduced our dad to it and it became a lifelong passion. He enjoyed every part of the game. He joined leagues and took his clubs down south during the winter. My mother was afraid of becoming a golf widow, so she took up the game as well. Some of my fondest memories are tagging along to learn the game when I was a teenager. Occasionally I subbed in his leagues, but durning the summers I would golf with my parents all around Kent county. He had many great shots, I think even having up to 6 holes in one. For his 87th birthday he joined Jerry, Henry and I at Saskatoon.
Jerry was raised in a Christian home and had a life-long faith. He graduated from Grandville High School in 1948. He was an athletic star in Football, Basketball and Track. Jerry married his high school sweetheart in 1949, then shortly thereafter served our country in the Navy at Pearl Harbor during the Korean War. After starting his family in Michigan, five years later he and Betty decided to move to California to be near Betty's family. After six years they moved back to Grand Rapids in 1962 where there were more friends and family. After various jobs, Jerry found his calling in automobile sales which he continued for the next 30 years until retirement. Although he enjoyed helping people find transportation his free time passion was golf. Whether in the Senior League in West Michigan or on Florida courses in winter, golf was a respite from the challenges of life. He played it until he could no longer walk.
My father was born at home, 830 Hazen street in Grand Rapids. His grandmother, Icie was the midwife. His only sibling and sister Jan was born eighteen months later. So Jerry grew up during the great depression. My grand parents lived frugally all their lives as a result of that hardship, as most from that generation did. Jerry attended Burton elementary in Grand Rapids. Like his own father, my dad was a story teller. One important story was when he defended a handicapped boy that was picked on walking to Burton school. As a caring person he told the bully that if he didn't stop he was going to deck him. The bully did not stop and my father clobbered him. Later he was pulled out of class and sent to the principle's office. He explained his side of the story which the principle understood. Jerry received no punishment, but was told to let the principle handle it if it happened again. Later in life as a car salesman numerous times he felt bad that some salesman would gouge customers, which he had a conscience against.
When my grandfather got the chance he wanted to farm again, so he moved the family to Jenison. My father continued his education in a one room school house, and then entered Grandville High School. At the high school Jerry became one of the top athletes in football, basketball, baseball and track. When he was a sophomore, my grandfather suffered a great loss as a disease took all his cattle and he had to sell the farm and move back to Grand Rapids. Grandville HS did not want to loose my dad's athletic contribution so they offered him an athletic scholarship tuition waver. This leads to my father's second trait, he was very competitive. As a junior the won the state championship in the 220 yard dash and took 2nd place in the 100 yard dash to a student from Detroit. One of his life long favorite stories was the "touchdown play". While a running back and playing against Rockford, my dad was unhappy with the coaches play calling which he blamed on his being the defensive coach from Hope college, as such my father did not feel that his speed was being used. He told the quarterback, Mac McKinney, his best friend, to ignore the coaches play and to pitch it to him so he could run down the sideline. This resulted in the first touchdown. The coach called him over and said, "what play was that?" my father retorted "the touchdown play" the coach said, "Vredevelt, sit the bench." He was still on the bench when the second half started, eventually the coach said, "Vredevelt, run that play again, but this time have them hike it to you." He ran it again and scored once more. They won the game 14-0.
After high school, my father and his best friend Ward Mckinney signed up for the Navy. They both served a year and returned home. My mother was distraught at this turn of events. As a result I have a year of love letters that we kids were never allowed to read until both of them had passed. When my father was called back into service following the start of the Korean war. My mother planned the wedding shortly before he shipped out to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My father like his dad had a sense of humor, he was good at one liners and a prank now and then. My mother arrived in Hawaii months after my dad. My father told my mother to arrive at a softball game at the base and hang out by the other dugout. His fellow players took notice of this beautiful woman and my dad told them he was going to meet her. The boys told him, "she was way out of his league, Vredevelt" my dad said, "we'll see," he went over and talked and gave her a kiss. The teammates went wild with jealousy. He enjoyed that story for years.
After Hawaii they settled back to Grand Rapids. The job scene was uncertain and my mom's parents were living in LosAngeles, so after Loni was born they moved to LA. My dad started work as an insurance salesman. I was born there in 1958, but by 1960 there was a national recession so in 1962 we were back in Michigan, living around the corner from my dad's parents in Wyoming. My father again went selling insurance, later on my mom's brother, suggested he try for a car sales job at Stall Buick in 1967. There he found his true calling in automobile sales for the next 30 years until retirement. He enjoyed meeting people and helping them find transportation. He was very good at what he did, and as a teenager I heard lots of stories about customers and how to "close the deal" In my 20s when I was living with buddies, I had a friend Steve who needed a car, I said go see my dad. Steve came home later and said, "Your dad sold me a car, but now I don't want it." I said, then go back and tell him you've changed your mind. The next day Steve took my advice and went to back to get out of the deal. When Steve came home later that day, I said "how did it go?" He looked at me and said, "I got out of that car, but then he sold me another one and now I don't want that car either." My dad was a professional salesman.
My mother was always a bit unsatisfied with our Wyoming home, she wanted to do more entertaining, but the house had not have a dining room, you had to eat in the kitchen. My mother was often on the search for a bigger home. Which leads to my father's attitude of contentment, he was usually always fine in whatever situation he was in. He would always say regarding a bigger house, "You can only live in one room at a time." Eventually my mother got her dining area at Silver leaf condominiums. He was content with the car he drove, the clubs he had and the size of his garage, if they functioned well, he didn't need a bigger or better anything. In the last couple years despite the falls from a weakening body, even bruised and sore, when you asked him how he was doing, invariably, "I'm good."
My father had two passions as long as I knew him. The first was health. He was one of the first of his generation to quit smoking once the warnings started. He soon found a store called Harvest Health where he acquainted himself with every supplement and book on home remedies. Prevention magazine was always on the coffee table. Jerry and I remember the health pancakes and bread so heavy we once used it as a door stop. He was affectionately called "Doc" as many of his coworkers would come to him for advice. Marie and I still use two of his air purifiers. Part of his diet plan was always to eat your vegetables. At one of Henry's birthday parties, a young man passed by on the vegetables, Jerry held out his hand shaking it, "this is what my peers at the Lowell Senior center look like because they did't eat their vegetables. Look at my hands, holding them out, rock solid."
My father's second passion was golf. My brother had taken up the sport while in college. About 1970 he introduced our dad to it and it became a lifelong passion. He enjoyed every part of the game. He joined leagues and took his clubs down south during the winter. My mother was afraid of becoming a golf widow, so she took up the game as well. Some of my fondest memories are tagging along to learn the game when I was a teenager. Occasionally I subbed in his leagues, but durning the summers I would golf with my parents all around Kent county. He had many great shots, I think even having up to 6 holes in one. For his 87th birthday he joined Jerry, Henry and I at Saskatoon.
My father was born at home, 830 Hazen street in Grand Rapids. His grandmother, Icie was the midwife. His only sibling and sister Jan was born eighteen months later. So Jerry grew up during the great depression. My grand parents lived frugally all their lives as a result of that hardship, as most from that generation did. Jerry attended Burton elementary in Grand Rapids. Like his own father, my dad was a story teller. One important story was when he defended a handicapped boy that was picked on walking to Burton school. As a caring person he told the bully that if he didn't stop he was going to deck him. The bully did not stop and my father clobbered him. Later he was pulled out of class and sent to the principle's office. He explained his side of the story which the principle understood. Jerry received no punishment, but was told to let the principle handle it if it happened again. Later in life as a car salesman numerous times he felt bad that some salesman would gouge customers, which he had a conscience against.
When my grandfather got the chance he wanted to farm again, so he moved the family to Jenison. My father continued his education in a one room school house, and then entered Grandville High School. At the high school Jerry became one of the top athletes in football, basketball, baseball and track. When he was a sophomore, my grandfather suffered a great loss as a disease took all his cattle and he had to sell the farm and move back to Grand Rapids. Grandville HS did not want to loose my dad's athletic contribution so they offered him an athletic scholarship tuition waver. This leads to my father's second trait, he was very competitive. As a junior the won the state championship in the 220 yard dash and took 2nd place in the 100 yard dash to a student from Detroit. One of his life long favorite stories was the "touchdown play". While a running back and playing against Rockford, my dad was unhappy with the coaches play calling which he blamed on his being the defensive coach from Hope college, as such my father did not feel that his speed was being used. He told the quarterback, Mac McKinney, his best friend, to ignore the coaches play and to pitch it to him so he could run down the sideline. This resulted in the first touchdown. The coach called him over and said, "what play was that?" my father retorted "the touchdown play" the coach said, "Vredevelt, sit the bench." He was still on the bench when the second half started, eventually the coach said, "Vredevelt, run that play again, but this time have them hike it to you." He ran it again and scored once more. They won the game 14-0.
After high school, my father and his best friend Ward Mckinney signed up for the Navy. They both served a year and returned home. My mother was distraught at this turn of events. As a result I have a year of love letters that we kids were never allowed to read until both of them had passed. When my father was called back into service following the start of the Korean war. My mother planned the wedding shortly before he shipped out to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. My father like his dad had a sense of humor, he was good at one liners and a prank now and then. My mother arrived in Hawaii months after my dad. My father told my mother to arrive at a softball game at the base and hang out by the other dugout. His fellow players took notice of this beautiful woman and my dad told them he was going to meet her. The boys told him, "she was way out of his league, Vredevelt" my dad said, "we'll see," he went over and talked and gave her a kiss. The teammates went wild with jealousy. He enjoyed that story for years.
After Hawaii they settled back to Grand Rapids. The job scene was uncertain and my mom's parents were living in LosAngeles, so after Loni was born they moved to LA. My dad started work as an insurance salesman. I was born there in 1958, but by 1960 there was a national recession so in 1962 we were back in Michigan, living around the corner from my dad's parents in Wyoming. My father again went selling insurance, later on my mom's brother, suggested he try for a car sales job at Stall Buick in 1967. There he found his true calling in automobile sales for the next 30 years until retirement. He enjoyed meeting people and helping them find transportation. He was very good at what he did, and as a teenager I heard lots of stories about customers and how to "close the deal" In my 20s when I was living with buddies, I had a friend Steve who needed a car, I said go see my dad. Steve came home later and said, "Your dad sold me a car, but now I don't want it." I said, then go back and tell him you've changed your mind. The next day Steve took my advice and went to back to get out of the deal. When Steve came home later that day, I said "how did it go?" He looked at me and said, "I got out of that car, but then he sold me another one and now I don't want that car either." My dad was a professional salesman.
My mother was always a bit unsatisfied with our Wyoming home, she wanted to do more entertaining, but the house had not have a dining room, you had to eat in the kitchen. My mother was often on the search for a bigger home. Which leads to my father's attitude of contentment, he was usually always fine in whatever situation he was in. He would always say regarding a bigger house, "You can only live in one room at a time." Eventually my mother got her dining area at Silver leaf condominiums. He was content with the car he drove, the clubs he had and the size of his garage, if they functioned well, he didn't need a bigger or better anything. In the last couple years despite the falls from a weakening body, even bruised and sore, when you asked him how he was doing, invariably, "I'm good."
My father had two passions as long as I knew him. The first was health. He was one of the first of his generation to quit smoking once the warnings started. He soon found a store called Harvest Health where he acquainted himself with every supplement and book on home remedies. Prevention magazine was always on the coffee table. Jerry and I remember the health pancakes and bread so heavy we once used it as a door stop. He was affectionately called "Doc" as many of his coworkers would come to him for advice. Marie and I still use two of his air purifiers. Part of his diet plan was always to eat your vegetables. At one of Henry's birthday parties, a young man passed by on the vegetables, Jerry held out his hand shaking it, "this is what my peers at the Lowell Senior center look like because they did't eat their vegetables. Look at my hands, holding them out, rock solid."
My father's second passion was golf. My brother had taken up the sport while in college. About 1970 he introduced our dad to it and it became a lifelong passion. He enjoyed every part of the game. He joined leagues and took his clubs down south during the winter. My mother was afraid of becoming a golf widow, so she took up the game as well. Some of my fondest memories are tagging along to learn the game when I was a teenager. Occasionally I subbed in his leagues, but durning the summers I would golf with my parents all around Kent county. He had many great shots, I think even having up to 6 holes in one. For his 87th birthday he joined Jerry, Henry and I at Saskatoon.
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