(Reprise post)

He was the butcher in the Dutch country town of Laren.  As days became years and years decades, he served customers and dreamed of finding something else to do with his life.  When he and his wife sold their shop, he faced a dilemma. I’m too young to retire, what should I do with the rest of my life?

He was fascinated with windmills, built first to pump out water from the reclaimed sea and then to regulate its level in a continual battle against the ocean and alpine fed rivers.

After raising three children, he receives a comfortable pension and, with the blessing of his wife, followed his lifelong dream.  At age 59, he enrolled in the only school devoted solely to rebuilding and restoring these uniquely Dutch symbols of craftsmanship and ingenuity. 

He is Jos Jansen a wiry, gentle 6’ 7” windmill keeper.  Jos greets everyone clad in his blue coveralls with the same smile and quiet enthusiasm for his new work.  He clearly loves his land ship, this giant grain windmill and is eager to show you how everything works.  There are rules.  He makes sure you remain outside the small chain fence.  Even there, the site of her giant arms silently swooshing down towards your head is enough to make you duck. 

Jos pulls heavily on one of the two long ropes connected to the back of the mill.  That tug trips a lever, which loosens a large stone and causes the windmill to quickly shudder to a stop.  It is a very delicate counter-balanced system. 

He saw a slight shift in the wind so he wants to turn the mill, the entire building, into the wind.  Every three feet or so around the circumference of the building sits a giant ship pylon.  Around two of them are enormous steel rings connected to the windmill by heavy metal chains.  He lifts the rings off the pylon, walks to the side of the building and slowly turns a giant ship’s wheel and the top of the building swivels.  When he is satisfied the windmill is facing correctly into the wind, he secures her chains once again on the pylons.

The wind is a bit lighter now so he rotates the mill’s blades ¼ turn so he can roll out a bit more cloth fabric to catch the wind in her “sails”.  When they are secured he tugs on the rope again and we stand hypnotized, watching the wind do its work.

In their prime, Holland had more than 13,000 windmills.  Most were used to pump water and ease pressure off the dykes.  Today the work is done by an invisible computerized network of pumps, locks and canals.  Less than 1,000 remain, many in disrepair and only a few hundred are in working condition.  Like dilapidated drive-in movie screens in Texas, many stand as silent reminders of another era.

“The problem” he says, “is finding good woodworkers and craftsmen.  You cannot simply run over to the local hardware store for parts to fix the problems you find here so you have to be either very creative or very stubborn.”  I think a bit of both works wonders.

There are a few sacks of flour on the floor.  It is clear the action takes place above us.  There a giant stone crushes the grain into fine flour while a series of interlocking wooden wheels and bars move as the wind turns the blades.  We climb one narrow ladder after another up into the top of the mill to see giant wood posts turning and creating the chain reaction below.  “At harvest time”, he says, “the miller worked around the clock so farmers could get their grain milled before rain ruined it.  A rainy summer was disastrous to the entire region.

Since only a handful of windmill keeper jobs are paid, this is a labor of love.  He spends every Saturday keeping this mill near Lochem running.  Jos weekly turns his giant ship into the wind welcoming visitors to a long forgotten time.

He once charged admission of $3.00, but gave up because his thrifty countrymen (OK, they are cheap – do you think the term Dutch Aunt comes from her generosity?) objected to paying that amount.  Now he accepts whatever donation people will make and hopes it is enough to keep this one mill going.

$3 seems a small price to pay to preserve a bit of history. Jos just shrugs and keeps on checking the wind.