Ndekendek: The Man Who Runs Like a Bird

By Bob Wyatt and George Flasschoen

Ndekendek: The Man Who Runs Like a Bird is an account of the life of Josse Flasschoen and his relationship with two boys he briefly met at the Paris Exhibition in 1900. Their lives are going different directions, but keep circling back resulting in confrontations between them.. Josse was nicknamed Ndekendek by the tribes of the Belgian Congo where he operated a palm oil plantation while working to uplift the people. The story expands to three continents before climaxing with disturbing results that deserve a reexamination for justice. The account is shared by George Flasschoen, son of Josse, who lives in Lees Summit, Missouri. Bob Wyatt is the writer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543414288

Bob Wyatt

GEORGE FLASSCHOEN George Flasschoen was sent to the United States in 1944 as part of the adoption program for orphans as a result of World War II. He spent the final years of his high school days in Newton, Kansas, and went on to earn a BA degree from Bethel College in North Newton, Kansas, majoring in languages, education, and history. He added an MA in history from the University of Missouri–Kansas City and did additional study at Kansas University, the University of Nebraska, and the University of South Dakota. He taught foreign language in De Soto, Kansas, for ten years; successfully unified the Clearwater School District in Nebraska; and was a full-time instructor in the Academy of Kansas City Charter School. He supervised the publication of a trilingual magazine, The Hearth, in English, French, and Spanish. Copies are available in the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. He received a grant from the National Humanities Faculty for developing a program for teaching French and Spanish. He later received another grant for a federal study for teaching French. In 1979, he began a twenty-two-year historical research project on World War II. During that time, he traveled extensively in France, Belgium, Germany, and England, seeking answers to questions he had after the war about what he had witnessed firsthand. This led to an attempt to write the biography on his father. After forty years without success in completing the book, his wife recommended he find a writer to do the book. BOB WYATT Robert W. “Bob” Wyatt was a friend of George’s wife in earlier years. She invited him to listen to George’s story after she read one of Bob’s books. After their first meeting, plans were made to meet every Wednesday to write Ndekendek. Bob commented that he left with tears most Wednesdays after hearing more of the story of the Flasschoen family. Bob graduated from the local high school in Leeton, Missouri. He went on to earn a BA in Bible from Central Christian College of the Bible, a bachelor of music education and master’s in education from the University of Central Missouri in Warrensburg with additional study from Johnson Bible College in Kimberlin Heights, Tennessee. His background includes ministering to two congregations, overseeing a statewide mission program, operating a print shop and three small-town newspapers, directing instrumental and vocal music in high schools, and directing a cultural exchange between Missouri drama and music students with groups in Europe. He currently writes a weekly paper for his hometown and oversees the local Leeton Museum. He has over four dozen published books to his credit. His love for life is demonstrated in his effort to serve others, emphasizing the need for people to work together to lift each other to higher levels of accomplishment.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Bob Wyatt George Flasschoen.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017905435

ISBN:      Hardcover            978-1-5434-1430-1

                  Softcover              978-1-5434-1429-5

                   eBook                   978-1-5434-1428-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 06/21/2017

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Contents

Preface

Part 1

A Belgian Patriot in the Belgian Congo

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part 2

A Belgian Patriot in World War II

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Part 3

A Belgian Patriot’s Legacy

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Preface

In life and especially in war, it is sometimes difficult to know who the heroes and enemies are. In the case of the life of Josse Flasschoen, he was a dedicated man to his country and to the cause of the people he knew, yet because of his service to the country in numerous complicated situations, he was unfairly declared a traitor.

Revealed in this book is the story of his dedication to upholding justice, seeking freedom for all, and maintaining loyalty to those who worked beside him. The cost in his case was his life and the humiliation caused by greedy, self-seeking enemies and a court that failed to listen to the whole story.

At the end of World War II, Belgium held court hearings to determine who the heroes were and tried to separate them from the enemies. Despite their efforts to know the truth, it is apparent that they listened to one side because of friendships and failed to learn the real story of Josse Flasschoen.

This book is dedicated to men and women who seek to serve without desire for honor or consideration of the danger. Our thanks to them and to Josse Flasschoen and his example of patriotism.

Part 1

A Belgian Patriot in the Belgian Congo

1.jpg

As Told by George Flasschoen

to Bob Wyatt

Chapter One

Josse! shouted Jeanne Flasschoen as she frantically motioned with her hand for the ten-year-old to move back. The parade is about to start. Get off the street.

Josse ignored his mother and lunged forward in between a couple of bystanders to get a good view down the boulevard. He immediately froze in his tracks. At the end of the street was a large group of military officers riding solid black horses with silver-trimmed saddles sparkling in the sunlight.

His eyes widened at the appearance of the soldiers as they turned their horses toward the sun, revealing their green and orange uniforms. The sight made him shiver inside.

Mother! he shouted. Do you see them? Aren’t they beautiful?

Yes, Josse, she replied. Now get over here by me and behave yourself.

This is a moment to be proud, he shouted. I am proud to be Belgian!

The crowd surrounding him cheered and joined him in repeating together, I am proud to be Belgian!

The day was perfect for a parade with a gentle breeze and cloudless sky. Although earlier in the morning there had been a threat of rain, the clouds quickly vanished, and the streets began to be lined with people dressed in their finest attire. The Gustave Flasschoen family was one of the earliest to arrive. Gustave placed his family directly in front of the speaker’s stand so they would be able to see and hear everything.

The family had hardly arrived when Gustave was led off to a brief meeting with the art committee. He assured Jeanne that he would be back in time for the parade and gave the boys specific instructions to be good little boys.

Gustave was recognized as one of Belgian’s best painters and because of that was featured in the art pavilion’s displays. In addition, he was invited to speak in a workshop at noon that day. He considered it a tremendous honor to speak and was excited that King Leopold II would be present to hear him.

Though the Paris Exhibition had parades each day, this was no ordinary parade. The royal family from Belgium was expected to make a grand entrance along with various other dignitaries. Later, the king was to oversee prepared events with workshops and speeches being made by Belgians from a variety of professions. The Gustave Flasschoen family was eager and excited to participate and see all the events.

A policeman on a reddish-brown-colored horse moved toward Josse who in turn moved farther into the street as the officer waved a baton at him. Josse ducked as the man swooped the stick over his head. Josse retreated into the crowd where he turned and swerved in and out hoping to escape the policeman. Josse finally situated himself beside his mother. Giving her a big smile, he stood on his toes and strained to get a better view up the street.

I spotted the coach the king will be in! shouted Josse as he pointed. See it there!

Jeanne noticed the fake innocent smile, but seeing the direction he pointed, she turned to get a better look.

I don’t see anything, said Maurice, unable to see much due to his height. He yanked on his mother’s skirt.

Where? Jeanne asked, taking the hand of Maurice.

There by the golden gates, Josse replied. You can barely see the edge of the carriage parked there at the largest gate.

Jeanne broke into a big smile and patted Maurice on the head.

Yes! she exclaimed. I see where you mean. That’s it. The golden coach that the king will be riding in. He really is here!

Josse started to head back on the street, but Jeanne grabbed his coattail. She reached for Maurice, her other son, and tried to pull them both in front of her.

Leaning forward, Josse got loose but was surprised by the policeman on the brown horse again. Josse backed up, stepping on the toes of a couple of well-dressed women behind him.

Excuse me, ladies, Josse said as he turned, took his cap off, and honored them with a bow.

What a handsome young gentleman, one of the women said.

Isn’t he good looking? exclaimed the other as she moved back to avoid being stepped on again.

Jeanne rolled her eyes as the two ladies continued to talk pleasantly about her excessively active son. She reached out and pulled the two boys in front of her again. The policeman nodded approval toward Jeanne and turned his horse to head up the street.

A sudden hush came over the crowd as the announcer ascended the stairs to the grandstand. The audience was electric with enthusiasm. They anticipated the start of the parade. The announcer shifted his note cards as he approached the rostrum. Reaching the podium, he turned and paused. He did a quick glance over the audience and then paced back and forth between the stairs and the podium a couple of times.

I thought they were going to start, questioned Josse.

Maurice punched Josse in the side and laughed. Jeanne eyed Maurice with a threatening look.

Your father should be here soon, said Jeanne, holding on a little tighter to her two sons. Let’s surprise him and be standing in line like good little boys.

Josse strained to look directly in his mother’s eyes.

You mean we aren’t good little boys? Josse smiled.

Her eyebrows went up as she stared at him in response.

The anticipated speaker descended the stairs and disappeared underneath the grandstand. The crowd groaned. Many had stood for hours to get a good position so they could see the king of Belgium. They became impatient as people started grumbling.

Suddenly a snare drum roll silenced the crowd. A cannon blast sounded across the lagoon in front of the Eiffel Tower. Smoke rolled up from the same area as rifles gave a twenty-one-gun salute. At the same time, trumpeters marched from behind the grandstand to in front of the stage, coming to attention once they were in place.

The musicians flipped their trumpets into position and launched into playing a fanfare. To the surprise of the audience, there were four groups of trumpeters in different locations around the crowd. The effect was exhilarating.

A new uniformed policeman on a black horse with gold-trimmed saddle rode up the street at a fast pace and halted directly in front of Jeanne and the boys. The many medals on his green uniform coat jingled with every move. With a powerful-sounding snort, the horse reared up and quickly got the attention of those on the front row as the hooves came down loudly on the pavement. The crowd moved back off the street.

The officer waved to the audience and turned back toward the west end of the boulevard where the king’s coach was parked. The soldier raised his hand in the air and with a quick chopping motion signaled for the parade to begin.

The crowd went wild waving streamers and flags. At the same time, a military band on the grandstand across the street began playing a fast march. The intensity of the moment wrapped itself around everyone as the king was anticipated.

Josse could not contain his enthusiasm. He edged back on the street, keeping an eye on his mother. He failed to notice that the original policeman was nearby watching him. The officer directed his baton into the chest of Josse and pushed him back with a bit of force.

Josse grabbed the pole with anger and started to yank it. Instantly he realized he was dealing with the officer. He froze for a few seconds with thoughts rushing through his brain on what to do next.

Jeanne gasped, knowing the unpredictable behavior of her son. This was not the time to cause trouble. She made her way to the side of Josse; but by the time she arrived, he had dropped the rod, stepped back in line, and nodded to the policeman with a friendly smile. The policeman bowed his head slightly and gave a polite salute toward Josse who responded with his own salute.

Jeanne grabbed her sons, pulling them within the guidelines directed by the policeman. With a final pat, she established firm control over Josse just as Maurice kicked him from behind and sent them both yelping and tossing fists at each other.

The policeman tipped his hat and smiled while laughing as he turned his horse and moved away from the high-powered brothers.

Maurice! Josse! What am I going to do with you two! said Jeanne with an exasperated tone. She pulled the two boys back in front of her with firm hands clasped on each of their shoulders just as a man leaned over and kissed her on the neck.

What! she gasped. The man laughed as he broke into a big smile, and the crowd around applauded.

Gustave! she sighed as her husband took a place beside her. Thank goodness you are here!

She turned and started to give her husband a quick kiss, but Josse saw a chance to get back at his little brother and swung a punch.

Oh, it’s hopeless! said Jeanne with a loud sigh. Can you do something to get them under control before we are carted off by the police.

Gustave placed his much stronger hands on Josse’s shoulder and moved Maurice in beside him and squeezed tight. The boys knew they were trapped. They were both on the front row directly in front of their father.

Look! said Gustave as he pointed to the entrance to the courtyard. They must be about to enter. You can see the Sousa Band beginning to adjust their position.

I heard the Sousa Band earlier, interrupted Josse. They are good!

They wouldn’t be the official band of the World’s Fair if they weren’t, replied Gustave. Here they come now!

The scent of fresh bread came floating across the crowd. Vendors started shouting louder the names of the things they were selling including souvenirs, hats, scarves, pins, umbrellas, and maps telling about the fair.

The crowd roared with applause. People were pointing in all directions at the many attractions including the unique buildings. Smells of foods from other countries floated through the air as concessionaires made their way around the lines of people. The World’s Fair was in full swing now.

Gustave reached in his pocket and pulled out a couple of coins.

Boys, he said. Go get yourself something to eat. You look like you are hungry. Hurry back though as the king will be coming by soon.

Jeanne groaned in disbelief.

Try to save some of that money, Gustave hollered as the boys made their way through the crowd. You may want to buy something later when I’m not around.

Thanks, Daddy, said Maurice and Josse as they rushed off.

You shouldn’t have done that, said Jeanne, looking at her husband. You had them in the perfect location—in front of you. You spoil them.

Gustave winked at her and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek just as the band on their left burst forth in a march. The couple jumped at the sound of the unexpected music. Those around laughed at their startled expressions and applauded. Some of the men patted Gustave on the back. Jeanne blushed.

Bands from throughout the world were present to participate in the parade and were waiting in line for their opportunity. Two bands performed lively marches at the same time and were located on both sides of the Flasschoen family. It was deafening as the two bands appeared to be competing to see who could play the loudest. Despite the volume, the audience clapped their hands and tapped their toes in rhythm with both marches.

The two boys arrived back with candy and immediately began fighting to get in the front row. Gustave wisely guided them with his hands as Jeanne patted him on the back and gave him a nice hug.

Suddenly the bands ceased. The crowd silenced. The announcer approached the rostrum on the grandstand. In a loud voice, he shouted a welcoming message to everyone for coming and then pointed to the golden gates.

Ladies and gentlemen, he proclaimed, I am honored to introduce to you King Leopold II and his queen.

Looking down the boulevard, the people went wild with excitement. Even Gustave and Jeanne jumped up and down cheering.

The honor guard of the parade slowly and methodically approached. Following them were military men numbering one hundred. Each carried a Belgian flag. When they came to the circle drive in front of the grandstand, they went to their positions and stood at attention.

Oh, exclaimed Jeanne, it is so beautiful!

The military men wore decorated uniforms of the same color as the flags. All the men circled the drive, which made an impressive scene as their flags whipped in the breeze making snapping sounds.

Additional soldiers and decorated military in flashy colorful uniforms on horseback formed a line at the entrance to the courtyard. At the proper signal, they turned their horses and began a formal procession down the street. The hooves sounded clops on the brick streets as the horses’ legs came down in precision.

The man on the grandstand shouted additional announcements and introductions, but no one heard him. Police stood at every corner to control the huge crowds and traffic. The crowds were almost rowdy and disorderly in their behavior because of their excitement.

Look! shouted Josse as he stepped forward to move into the street. Gustave pulled the boy back to his position. Josse glanced over his shoulder and saw his father staring at him. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

A roar of the crowd farther down from them caused Josse to lean forward again. A breeze had lifted a hat of one of the beautifully dressed ladies, sending it into the street. Despite efforts to control things, children jumped at the opportunity to chase the hat, laughing and chattering. Police in pursuit efficiently returned the children to behind the ropes that lined the streets.

Police are doing a great job controlling the crowd today, commented Gustave to his wife. Not an easy task either.

Here they come! shouted Maurice with his mouth full of candy.

Yes, they are! joined in Josse.

I believe you’re right! said Jeanne and Gustave together.

The military on horses pushed people back off the street as the crowd struggled to get a view of the approaching coach. The soldiers stood at attention around the edge of the drive, putting hands up to hold the people back. Their job was to ensure the crowd did not rush toward the coach when the royal family exited.

The beautiful carriage pulled by six white horses turned onto the circle drive and entered the courtyard as the military band snapped to attention. At that moment, trumpets sounded a fanfare to welcome the vehicle. Two people inside the coach waved in royal fashion toward the crowd.

Red, yellow, and black streamers were draped everywhere. Bunting hung from the windows. Flower beds throughout the park area contained red and yellow pansies. Everywhere the colors of Belgium were used in the decorations.

On signal, two men rolled a red carpet to the parked carriage in the center of the courtyard in front of the Palais du Trocadero. The Eiffel Tower’s shadow ran on the ground to where the royal family of Belgium stepped out of the carriage.

The queen stepped onto the red carpet first. She was dressed in green velvet with golden ruffles. Her diamond and emerald necklace brought gasps from the audience as the people from Belgium saw her. They exploded with cheers.

The king appeared next with a saber at his side. A gold chain and jeweled medallion hung in front on his chest. Gold buttons sparkled in the sunlight on his uniform. His freshly polished boots reflected the scene around him as he stood at attention beside his wife. Applause and cheers echoed throughout the main section of the fairgrounds as the Belgians saluted their leader.

Say, Gustave, began Jeanne, you think you could buy me a necklace like that?

Gustave jerked his head toward her and then laughed seeing the twinkle in her eyes.

The royal family walked to the entrance of the Palais du Trocadero and then turned toward the crowd. They gracefully waved in each direction as they turned in a circle step by step. As they completed their rotation, they came to attention and stood motionless. The Belgian flag was raised on the main flagpole as the military band reverently performed the national anthem of Belgium. The formality of the ceremony blended with the beautiful clothing and choreographed movements.

The Flasschoens smiled with pride as they took part in the celebration of their country by singing the anthem with the rest of the crowd. The Flasschoen family had long been a part of Belgium. They were proud of their homeland and of King Leopold II and his wife.

Of particular interest to the Flasschoen family at this exhibition was the incredible collection of paintings from around the world. Gustave’s artistic efforts were recognized as superior to many and offered something new for the artist. His new style of painting intrigued many critics. They hoped he would discuss what led him to use this new subject matter in a workshop scheduled for noon that day.

Gustave’s collection of works included oil paintings he did while in Africa and Argentina as well as throughout Europe. These paintings were particularly special because they included a visual of movement, something that had not been included on canvas over the years. He knew this event was a tremendous opportunity to share his suggestions on how to make contemporary art more interesting.

The world had long recognized Paris as the mecca of the art world. Thousands of young creative painters had made the journey to live and learn in Paris. Here they could meet the established artists, rub elbows with the developing artists, and view the best of the past masters.

Thousands of art critics and buyers paced the aisles examining the many creations. Nearly every living great artist participated, and many masters of the past were featured in showings held in a special museum set up for the occasion. Gustave was particularly pleased that the authorities provided opportunities to sell paintings during the fair. He hoped to finance a planned return trip to Africa to do more painting with the money he would make.

The host of people, dressed in their finest suits and dresses, laughed, cheered, and applauded everywhere. Their praise echoed from all corners of the fair. The people seemed overwhelmed at the sights in the finest gathering ever held.

Ladies with big hats covered with feathers and flowers carried umbrellas fully extended to protect from the breeze and sun as they strolled through the main streets. Men with tall stovepipe hats hailed buggies being pulled by beautiful horses to get rides to other sections of the fair.

Everywhere people smiled and laughed as they pointed to exhibit after exhibit. There were displays of art everywhere. Even the buildings were works of art using the new art nouveau design.

The Gibson girls from the United States appeared in their finest attire. They were delighted to find their neighbor Franklin Jerome displaying some of his paintings. He had come to Paris a few months before to see if he had talent and was pleased to share it with the world in this special exposition.

He reported to his Missouri friends how excited and honored he had been to study with Monet and Renoir and was surprised to find that he was able to sell some of his paintings. He had many stories to share with the girls about his experiences in Paris but was eager to hear about things back home.

I can’t believe the variety of painters as well as the huge number of artists that live here in Paris, he began sharing with the Gibsons.

Next to his booth was the Belgian artist Gustave Flasschoen. Down the aisle was Manet. Across was Mary Casals and nearly a thousand other painters who had booths in the World’s Fair.

When the parade was over, the youngsters ran every direction cheering, screaming, stopping to buy ice cream and other food. The exposition was a party scheduled to continue all summer.

Gustave enjoyed everything. He took in the praise for his paintings and thrived when asked questions concerning politics. He even brought his easel and went to work, painting views of the fair.

Josse! Maurice! Get over here, he shouted to his boys as he turned to his wife. Bringing them to spend the day might have been a mistake, Jeanne.

You gave them the money to buy the candy that has them running around wildly. She laughed. Look at them! They are loving it. See, they already have made friends with some of the young people attending the fair.

Daddy, interrupted Josse. This boy says he is an artist. Would you take a look at his work.

Well, indeed you are, began Gustave as he took the boy’s painting in his hands. I see you have an interest in still life.

Addie! yelled the boy’s father. Leave those people alone and get over here.

Sorry, sir, said Addie Blois. My stepfather doesn’t seem to appreciate art.

Gustave waved at the boy’s father and held up the painting and showed he was examining the painting. Gustave continued to study it.

Oh no! said the father as he approached Gustave. Don’t tell me he brought one of those ugly things he calls paintings. Sorry he bothered you, sir.

I’m delighted to get to look at a young boy’s paintings. Gustave smiled in response to the boy’s father.

He doesn’t have any talent, the boy’s father muttered. I have tried to get him to stop wasting his time.

Well. Gustave paused, looking at the lad’s depressed face.

Josse and Maurice leaned against their father to get a look at the painting. Josse quickly laughed at it, and Maurice frowned at the painting.

Now, boys, began Gustave, look at those carefully placed lines across the back to show the horizon. That’s good.

Addie smiled at Gustave’s remarks. His father frowned and cleared his throat to say something, but before he could speak, Gustave continued.

I like the color selection, Gustave said as he tilted his head to the right. He then turned his head to the side.

Black? asked Josse of his father. You like the way he used black?

Oh, be serious, said the boy’s father. He needs to focus on learning how to farm or prepare himself for factory work. The boy doesn’t have any talent.

I wouldn’t say that, said Gustave. Paintings are more for the painter, and he obviously has an eye for—well, nature.

He’s a natural leader all right, his father bellowed. I have seen that. When I look out the window and he is playing with the others, he seems to always be the leader. Surprisingly, he makes good grades and does very well in school. But art? No, not going to happen with my stepson. He is going to go into technology.

I would agree with you, sir, said Josse, still giggling.

Addie took his painting back from Gustave and rolled it up. Putting it in the bag he was carrying, he looked dejected and lost. He gave an angry look at Josse and started to say something.

Come along, said the father as he took the boy’s hand and dragged him in the direction of the technology section of the fair.

Addie glared at Josse as he looked back over his shoulder.

Sad, said Gustave as he watched the pair walk off. The boy was using that as an outlet. I could tell that. He had a lot of anger inside.

You got that from that ugly painting? remarked Josse.

Yes, said Gustave sadly. He does have talent. You can feel the emotion of his innermost thoughts coming to life in that painting.

The picture frightened me, Jeanne said as she shuddered.

Yes, sighed Gustave. That’s one troubled boy.

A few hours later, Josse and his brother returned, having toured more exhibits. They reported on the Gallery of Machines, which was being viewed by Addie and his father.

They were looking at the remarkable machines, reported Josse. Addie was actually doing a pretty good job of sketching the machines.

Sketching the machines? Hummm, perhaps that is what he needs, said Gustave with approval.

The boys then reported visiting the Human Zoo, which was a display of a Negro village. The African natives were displayed like animals, caged and kept in a secure location so people could observe them but not be in contact with them.

I’m sorry you saw that, said Gustave. "I’m planning to go to Africa again. I think there is a lot more to those people than most think.

They have culture and a past and love for their families. I don’t see where some people think they are to be treated like animals. Slavery is an atrocious system. The idea that a man should own another man is just wrong!

The African continent was of interest to many impressionist painters in Paris. The artists were desiring new techniques and styles of painting. Africa provided beautiful new sceneries and unique experiences with their cultures. It was the perfect location to breathe new life into painting, and Gustave planned to return to Africa to do some painting as soon as he could schedule it.

For generations, still life had been the main subjects of paintings by the masters. Gustave found movement to be a much more thrilling challenge. His paintings were filled with emotion and excitement as he brought the canvas to life with his new style.

While in each country, especially Africa, Gustave quickly developed a respect for the natives and their culture as he made his way around the continent. He became friends with many.

To afford places to stay, he would paint pictures of the owner’s family or of some scene they particularly enjoyed. Sometimes he sold paintings of other countries because the locals found the scenes to be curiously different from their own civilization.

In one case, Gustave made a deal with the owner of an apartment that he would do a painting for a place to stay. It was understood that once the painting was done, he would move on.

He naturally took a great deal of time painting the picture that was almost done for several weeks. When he left that family, he and a friend bought donkeys and launched into riding in the desert and through the bush country checking out the culture and always looking for fresh new scenes to paint.

On the arrival in one town, Gustave was arrested, being misidentified as a man who had just robbed a local business. He was placed in jail and held there overnight. During that time, he was angered and expressed himself in very colorful language.

The business owner came in the station to identify the culprit. Rather quickly, he reported that Gustave was not the man who had done the heist.

I’ve never heard such language, reported the horrified business owner. Who is that man?

The question is not who he is but is he the man that robbed you or not? asked the policeman. Is this the man who robbed your business?

Oh no, responded the businessman. His vocabulary was nothing like this man’s. I do apologize to you, sir. You do fit the description of the man who robbed me, but I can see now you are not the one who did it.

The policeman unlocked the cell and released Gustave.

Again, I apologize, the businessman said.

No problem. Gustave laughed. I like to find out about new cultures and might as well find out what the jails are like. I have seen the inside now, so I can move on to the next town.

When Gustave returned to Belgium, he had gained a reputation as an artist and won the heart of Jeanne Brynaert. They were married and had two sons. Unfortunately, Jeanne desired to be involved in the social activities in Brussels, and Gustave was always too involved in painting to take time to go to a party.

In 1900, Jeanne began paying attention to another man, Nizet, the editor in chief of one of the larger daily newspapers in Brussels. Despite his older age, the man was richer and provided Jeanne opportunities to party with the rich and elite of the country.

Oh, Gustave? said Jeanne as she greeted Nizet who had shown up unexpectedly at the Paris Exhibition. Gustave?

Yes, Jeanne, replied Gustave, taking a rag and rubbing his brush as he continued painting. What is it you want?

Nizet is here, and he has invited me to see the Eiffel Tower. Would you mind, dear, if I went with him?

Not at all, replied Gustave as he studied the scene he was painting. It will give me time to finish this painting. Have a good time.

As they walked off, Gustave suddenly turned his head to look at them. He sighed. It suddenly occurred to him that Nizet and Jeanne were spending a good deal of time together. He watched them laughing and touching each other occasionally as they disappeared into the crowd.

Gustave was quickly distracted from the thoughts of his wife when Josse and Maurice arrived back jabbering about things they had seen.

We went up the elevator at the Eiffel Tower, said an excited Josse. It was incredible. You could see for miles around. We even saw you down here. You were like a little ant.

Yes, Daddy, said young Maurice.

That might be a good place to do a painting, said Gustave.

Isn’t that a lovely painting? said Dr. De Schrevel as he came closer to the exhibit.

That thing? I don’t like it, said eleven-year-old Robert with a whiny voice while tugging at his father’s coattail, wanting to go somewhere else.

Greetings, Dr. Schrevel, said a surprised Gustave. I am delighted to see you. How are you and the family doing?

We have been enjoying this incredible fair, he replied. I can’t believe all the countries that have set up buildings for this event. The technology building was remarkable. Telephones! Who could believe you could have a device in your house that would allow you to connect with people all over the country? And phonographs, lights, the list goes on.

Yes, the world is changing! exclaimed Gustave.

I never saw so many paintings at one time as in this art exhibit. And here you are, our favorite and most talented Belgian painter!

You are too kind—Gustave laughed—but I always said you had good taste.

They laughed and continued chatting about a number of things. Meanwhile, Robert, the son, along with two other children, continued to whine about wanting to go to other parts of the park.

How is Frans Thuysbaert? I hear he is mayor in Lokeren now?

That’s correct, replied Mrs. Schrevel, Thuysbaert’s niece. He is doing a fine job there.

She turned in time to see Robert grab a paintbrush. She slapped his hand, picked the brush up from the ground where it had fallen, and handed it to Gustave.

Robert, leave that alone, she said as the son picked up another item on the table of art supplies.

Gustave placed the brush back in the brush container and moved it around to the other side of the table. Robert suddenly positioned himself in front of the painting, prepared to grab another brush with plans to take over Gustave’s project for the day.

Dr. Schrevel took Robert by the hair and with a quick jerk pulled him away from the canvas.

Ouch! yelled Robert. What did you do that for?

Perhaps we should go, said Dr. Schrevel. It was good to see you, Gustave, and best of luck with your painting.

I really hate that painting of yours, said Robert.

And that is why we have many painters and many styles, said Gustave to ease the embarrassment of the young boy’s remarks to his parents.

I want to go to the military display, said Robert. I’m not interested in this ugly art. Who cares about it?

My apology, said Dr. Schrevel. My child is somewhat determined to be a military hero and doesn’t understand the fine arts.

As the two walked away, young Josse leaned closer and whispered, I’m not for spanking much, but I think that kid needs one.

Do you now? Gustave loudly spoke to cover up his son’s remarks. Best of luck in your military career, General Robert.

The boy turned and came to attention, saluting Gustave for his remarks. Gustave bowed with approval.

Yes, Gustave continued, perhaps that boy will be a general someday with that polished and quick response.

Please don’t encourage him, shouted Dr. Schrevel as he nudged Robert in the direction he wanted to go.

Enjoy the fair! said Gustave as he smiled and waved.

I think that is one child that needs to be watched carefully as he grows up, said Jeanne as she came up behind Gustave.

Oh! Gustave jumped. When did you get back?

Just in time for General Schrevel’s performance, she responded. They seem to try to discipline that kid, but he doesn’t seem to comprehend. He is sort of in his own world with no knowledge or understanding of the differences between right and wrong. He seems to do whatever he wants when he wants it no matter what.

Gustave nodded in agreement as he washed his brushes. Jeanne and he quickly freshened and headed to the main fine arts exhibition area. They were surprised at the size of the crowd. There were no seats left, and people lined the walls.

Pierre Sullins, chairman of the Fine Arts Department of the Paris Exhibition, stood and introduced King Leopold and his wife who were present. This thrilled Gustave as he nodded and gazed at the king. Gustave’s thoughts returned to Sullins when he heard Sullins say his name.

The painter being talked about across the fairgrounds, began Pierre Sullins, "is our next guest. He has developed a new and fresh style in his painting. He does not paint still life scenes. His are filled with life and almost jump out at those who are viewing them for the first time.

His name is Gustave Flasschoen, continued Pierre. He was born in Sint-Jans-Molenbeek, Belgium, on May 20, 1868. His natural talent for painting was quickly recognized when he was young. Today he has become one of the outstanding Belgian painters. We can expect many more beautiful paintings by him.

Applause erupted as the audience signaled their approval. King Leopold and his wife nodded in agreement as they were familiar with Gustave and his wife.

Again, the audience applauded.

Mr. Flasschoen, it is a pleasure to meet you after seeing your recent paintings. They are filled with emotion and movement—something not seen in many paintings. I thoroughly enjoyed them. Where did you study?

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River Landscape by Gustave Flasschoen

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Fantasias a Biskra Algerie

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Fantaisie Arabe

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Flosschoen brought movement to the

paintings and displayed new cultures to the

Europeans

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He favored warriors riding horses or

other animals

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In 1887, I began attending the Academy of Fine Arts in Brussels and remained there until 1890, Gustave responded.

Yes, said the interviewer, I am familiar with that school. It was established in 1711 and has been highly respected for its outstanding instructors over the years. A good choice.

I began school there shortly after they moved to their new location, continued Gustave. The school originally was housed in a single room in the city hall, but in 1876, the school moved to a former convent and orphanage in rue du Midi. The facility was rehabilitated by the architect Pierre-Victor Jamaer.

Which of the instructors did you enjoy studying with the most? asked Pierre.

My main instructor was Francois Stroobant. I admired Stroobant very much, and when he changed positions and went to the Academie de Peinture et de Dessin in Sint-Jans-Molenbeek, I followed him.

What can you tell us about Stroobant? asked Pierre.

Francois Stroobant was a Belgian painter and lithographer. He attended the Fine Arts Academy in Brussels between 1832 and 1847, studying primarily under men like Navez, Paul Lauters, and Francois Antoine Bossuet. In 1835, he worked in the studio of the lithographer Antoine Dewasme-Pletinckx in Brussels.

What kind of subjects did he paint? asked Pierre. Did he also pick subjects that showed movement? Is that what inspired you?

Stroobant’s subjects were mainly landscapes and architecture, replied Gustave. What inspired me about him was that he traveled extensively through much of Europe including France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, Italy, Spain, and Hungary, exhibiting in the galleries of the Belgian towns of Ghent, Antwerp, and Brussels. Hearing Stroobant’s stories made me recognize how important it is for an artist to travel and see different cultures—get to know the different types of people in this world.

Have you been to other countries? asked Pierre.

Yes, I spent time in Africa and hope to return there in the next few years once I can afford it. Gustave responded. It does take money. In Africa, I was fortunate to paint my way around the country.

I beg your pardon? said a surprised Pierre. What do you mean?

I frequently would paint a picture of the family or a scene they liked, and they would provide a place for me to stay. It was a great way to see Africa.

The interview ended with a standing ovation by the audience. The king and queen briefly visited with Gustave and Jeanne before they headed for their carriage.

The Flasschoens returned to the art exhibit where the young boys had watched over their father’s artwork. With them was Uncle George Brynaert, a brother of Jeanne’s from England who had come to attend the fair.

Good work, boys! praised Gustave. And thank you, George.

The boys were extremely excited. They tried to explain that they were in a moving photograph. Gustave and Jeanne looked puzzled.

Some man came by, and he was aiming a box at the people on the street and in some of the booths, explained Uncle George. He said it was a movie. He said that later it would be shown at the technology building. I’m eager to see it.

Please find when that will be, requested Jeanne. I want to see it.

George quickly left and headed for the technology building.

Jeanne, said Gustave as he turned toward her, let’s go have some lunch on our own. The boys have been eating all morning, but we need to sit down and have some time on our own.

We can’t leave the boys unattended, replied Jeanne.

We should have asked George to stay longer so we could get away.

Gustave paused and looked at the next booth.

Oh, Frank? Do you think you could watch the boys for a few minutes?

Sure, Frank Jerome responded. I’ll be happy to watch over Josse and Maurice. By the way, I have some friends here today. This is Jessie, Mary, and Georgia Gibson. They are from my home area in the United States.

Well. Gustave said nodding at them. Sounds like you are already popular for them to come this far to see you.

We didn’t know he was here, began Georgia Gibson. Once we found him, we were very excited to see how talented he is.

Really? said Frank in a joking mood. That’s why you stopped? Because of my art? I thought you liked me. You didn’t come this far just to see me?

As I said, interrupted Georgia Gibson, we didn’t know you were here.

They all laughed while Frank picked up one of his paintings.

Well, now that you mention me having talent, he said as he looked at the three girls, what do you think of my paintings?

He has improved a lot, said Georgia Gibson to Gustave. These paintings on display are wonderful. I’m honored to know someone who can produce such beautiful artwork.

Jeanne and Gustave smiled in agreement as they turned to leave. Gustave took Jeanne’s hand and tucked it around his right arm.

It is about time we took the opportunity to leave and have some quality time together without the boys, said Gustave.

You are absolutely right, agreed Jeanne.

They visited several displays and ate a variety of foods from different countries as they wandered through the fair. Gustave frequently stopped and framed scenes he could visualize as a painting.

You are obsessed with painting, said a disgusted Jeanne when she realized she didn’t have Gustave’s complete attention. There are a lot more things to enjoy than smearing paint on a canvas.

What? said Gustave as he became aware Jeanne was talking to him. Did you say something?

I said there are better things to pay attention to than paint on a canvas!

Like what?

Me, you knucklehead! she yelled. Don’t you love me?

Of course I love you, he replied as he held his hands up to frame her.

Jeanne Flasschoen divorced Gustave a few months later and married the much older Nizet. For a time she enjoyed a grand social life, which was what she wanted. Gustave, on the other hand, saw the divorce coming and quickly turned his attention to offers that had started coming his way. He was soon traveling the world.

In 1909, he became world famous for painting a poster that opened doors to doing many things he had wanted to do but didn’t have the money. The Compagnie du Zoute in Knokke commissioned Gustave to design a poster. The result was Pastel Woman that depicted a woman with flowing green scarf sitting on top of a dune. It was made into a lithograph and postcards with two hundred fifty thousand copies sold. Eventually it was used on the covers of brochures and used in a modernized design.

In 1912, Gustave began his world travels going throughout Europe, Africa, and Russia and ending in Argentina in 1914. One of his paintings, Masks, in which soldiers in gas masks emerge from the gaswalmen, became very famous.

While in Argentina and Africa, he was popular with his paintings of Holland as the people in those countries had not seen windmills. In Belgium, they loved his paintings of Africa’s and Argentina’s visuals of dancers and running horses.

Josse, Gustave’s eldest son, had no desire to paint; but he did have the same desire to explore and experience new things. He listened to the many stories of his father’s activities in foreign countries. He was particularly attracted to the accounts of the African people. Even before going to Africa at the age of twenty, Josse gained a love for the people and their country.

His father taught him to love his homeland, Belgium, too. Gustave stressed that it was important to serve country first and that every citizen had a responsibility to come to the country’s defense when needed.

Gustave’s paintings became mainly landscapes, fishing scenes, and a collection of scenes from North Africa. His style evolved during the interwar period into a hell-impressionistic realism that he applied in his North African landscapes.

As for Jeanne, Gustave’s wife, she lived a rather outgoing life and was very independent. The Brynaert family was filled with long lines of businessmen and merchants, but it was the women who were the dominant force. The women often took over and operated the businesses. The Brynaerts had more than their share of strong-willed women.

The family was scattered over several Belgian provinces and foreign countries. The eldest son, George Brynaert, moved to London to more successfully pursue his line of work as an engraver. He eventually moved to Canada.

The eldest sister, Matilda, took over the family shoe store business that she ran with her brother Emile Brynaert.

The shoe store in 1912 was on the old rue Saint Jean. It specialized in custom-made shoes and catered to the elite of the times. In the last century, it had even counted among its clients H. M. Stanley, the famous explorer who opened the Congo for Leopold II of Belgium. When Stanley was a customer, none of the family guessed that their nephew Josse would take on a similar job.

Another sister, Maria, had founded the publication The Book of Addresses for the province of Liege. Maurice, the brother of Josse, took over the publication at the death of Maria.

So it was that their sister Jeanne married the aspiring artist-journalist named Gustave Flasschoen before moving on to her second husband, Nizet. Following the divorce, Gustave and his two sons made a home for themselves in Brussels.

In just a few years, Jeanne tired of Nizet as he was getting old, and she was still wanting to have fun. She visited the home of Gustave regularly to see their two sons. She insinuated Gustave didn’t know how to take care of the boys and frequently insisted on staying for a few days to ensure they were provided for properly.

From time to time, Gustave and she would forget they were not married and resume their relationship while she was there. Scandalous as it was for the family, it did not stop the couple from having fun.

So, Gustave, began Jeanne, how are the boys doing? I understand you have sent them to a boarding school in England. How is that working?

Very well, my love, responded Gustave. They are here for the holiday and will return soon.

You know if you would stay home long enough, they could have a regular home life here. I’m not sure I like them being in England.

I’m not sure I like you being in the arms of Nizet either, but life goes on.

Oh, Gustave. Jeanne sighed. Are you jealous?

Maybe, said Gustave as he winked at his former wife.

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LEFT TO RIGHT ARE MAURICE, GUSTAVE (FATHER), AND JOSSE FLASSCHOEN

The two started to hug as Josse and Maurice raced in the house chattering about King Leopold II donating the Congo to the Belgian government.

He must be rich to give a whole colony to our government! shouted Maurice.

I’m not sure that was a gift, said Josse sternly.

It wasn’t, echoed Jeanne. My brother George in England has been keeping me informed about the activities of our king, and I’m ashamed.

What has he been doing that has you upset? asked Gustave. Wasn’t he at that social event you attended last week? I figured you would be worshipping His Majesty.

You mean like my cousin who is his mistress? replied Jeanne with an angered tone.

Perhaps that was out of line, Gustave halfway apologized.

You’re forgiven, she said, laughing and slapping him with a light pat on the cheek.

I feel sorry for him, said Gustave, causing Jeanne to choke.

Whatever do you mean? replied Jeanne, blinking her eyes wildly with surprise.

Well, continued Gustave, "he and