THE TOWN of Schenectady has a Van Slyck Island, on, originally in, the Mohawk River. It used to belong to a family by that name. Dad was Kees van Slyck who came from Breukelen, mom was a Mohawk. Her name was Ots-Toch, meaning Starry Sky.
Kees could just as well have been named Van Breukelen, but he came from the marshland around it, hence Slijk, mud. Ots-Toch and he had a bunch of children and grandchildren, and somewhere down the road one of them married a Mr. Van Valckenburg. He hailed from where the name pointed: Valkenburg in Limburg.
A remarkable couple, the Van Valckenburgs, because they chose to be English loyalist fighters. And since the British lost America’s revolutionary war, they didn’t have much choice but to bail to Canada. There they stayed for a while. When they returned, they had a new surname, Vollick.
Which was not as odd as it seemed – the Canadians couldn’t pronounce Valk. They turned that into Vollick. Fine with us, the Van Valckenburgs thought. After all, the original last name didn’t ring well anyway in newly independent America.
“The essential lesson I have learned in life is to just be yourself.” In which case a surname doesn’t matter much. Also: “You cannot always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside.”
Words from the most famous Vollick descendant. He wrote one bestseller after another and became a big star. Wayne Dyer. His mother was Hazel Vollick. He hated his father because daddy had run away when Wayne was still a baby and his mom was only 22. He by and large struggled with life until he heard that his father had been dead for years, killed by alcohol. Wayne went to his grave, kicked the stone for three hours, until he decided then and there that it would be better to forgive. From that moment his sky cleared.
Wayne Dyer loved his mama Hazel. Penniless, she initially placed him and his two brothers in orphanages, but once she got her life on track, she raised the boys and saw to their school education.
Wayne told everyone who listened that adversity has a purpose. He called it The gift of fire. He never blamed mama Vollick for leaving him in other people’s care for 10 years. It had made him better and stronger. And once he had mastered the art of forgiveness, he wrote a book about it: Your Erroneous Zones. It has sold 35 million copies, and counting.
