MARIJKEKOGERART.COM:
As I was growing up no one ever spoke or mentioned my birth father and since I am rather introvert with a dash of Aspergers, I never asked about him either but as time passed I got more and more curious about who and where he was. So one day I looked in the telephone directory for the name Koger, which is not very common in the Netherlands. And there I saw it: Klaas Koger, and believe it or not, the address was right around the corner from where I lived. I got on my bicycle and drove by a couple of times. The big street level window said “Klaas Koger, Tailor” in gold outlined arched letters. Finally I found the courage to ring the doorbell. A man opened the door… I could see it was my father because I look more like him than my mother. I looked into his green eyes, just like mine and stuttered, “hi, I am your daughter”…no response…then a woman appeared behind him in the hallway, she instantly realized what was happening although to this day I don’t know if she knew of my existence previously. Wilma was very kind and immediately invited me to come inside, and put me at ease.
There in the living room, hung with seascapes painted by my father, I met my half sister Betty, 2 years younger than I, and my half brother Peter, 5 years younger. My father was a taciturn person, extremely quiet, he did not say a word, even after I came back several times and became fast friends with Betty. He was an excellent tailor, I could see by the clothes he made for Betty. We often hung out and went to the beach together. The last time I saw my father was just before I left for an assignment in Greece in 1965. He rang the bell, clomped up the bare wooden stairs and still not saying anything, sat down at the piano and played something while I made tea, and then he left again…I guess it was his way of saying he cared about me after all. Ironically, much later I found out from a distant cousin who had created a genealogy book dating back to 1603 that the Koger family’s ancestors hailed from the town of the Koog on Texel, an island off the Dutch coast in the North Sea. My great great grandfather 8 times removed, had invented reed matting for wooden chair seats, which made them a whole lot more comfortable.
Back home I told my mother that I had gone to meet my father and she got so furious that she hit me very hard on my left ear, which left me partially deaf from then on. I was stunned and drew my own conclusions about her behavior. Sadly, she only had 9 more years to live . . . .
…After my mother married Wim Verhoef . . . .

GEMEENTE AMSTERDAM, STADSARCHIEF, PERSOONSKAART:
Dochter Marianne Marijke vermeld.