The Potgieters lived in a big house near the gumtree plantation. I always thought it was a magical natural forest, but the mine planted those trees for support in
the tunnels underground.

Oom Pottie , as everybody called him, did not work for the mine ,but was a train driver for the Southh African Railways. He was a very kind, quiet man who worked very hard to look after his huge family. He and his busy wife had eight children. It seemed as if they always had a baby in the house.

They also had Blommetjie.Blommetjie was a Fries cow that provided milk for the family. Oom Pottie said it was cheaper to keep a cow than to buy milk. Besides there were huge pieces of empty veld in the area which provided grazing for Blommetjie.

I was just a little afraid of her (she was so big!) but those huge , soft eyes promised no violence.

In 1959, during the winter holidays, Blommetjie died.
She was hit by a train near the crossing on the gravel road that took us to the main road into town. That was still a steam train,I only saw Diesel and electrical trains later in my life.

I remember how we gathered around Blommetjie as she lay on her side next to the railroad, her lifeless eyes wide open! Apool of blood had formed underneath her..

It was a tragedy for the whole neighbourhood thaat all loved her. She was part of the landscape.

The Potgieters were crying.. Oom Pottie was grateful that the accident did not happen on his shift. The parents in the neighbourhood made use of Blommetjies demise to stress the danger of trains to their children.

After a while ofb shocked contemplationt the inhabitants started moving back to their homes in stunned silence..

Sudden loud chattering at the scene made me look back

over my shoulder and I saw something so bizare that I would remember it for the rest of my life!

Numerous blacks had appeared out of nowhere with buckets, basins knives even axes! They were hacking away at Blommetjie, taking pieces of bloody meat, filling their containers. I cried out in shocked fear, clutching my mother’s hand..

It was a bloody, gruesome sight! My mom stopped walking. She put her arms around me, comforting me while explaning quietly that the black people were very poor and this was a chance for them to get free meat. She assured me that Blommetjie could not feel anything as she was dead. It also helped Oom Pottie in that he would not have to struggle to remove the carcass and bury it.

Iwas very upset and could see the horror in the eyes of the people around us..

Oom Pottie bought a new cow soon afterwards. It was a Jersey cow this time. He said something about more cream in the milk and making butter.. I cannot even reemember her name..