Dr. Sander de Haan is not a man who can be easily pinned down, even though heɫəs remained in one spot for 39 years. His willingness and ability to serve, to fill a need, to lead a cause, to be a steadfast hand on whatever wheel ɫɔ these talents have actually made him elusive of a singular descriptor or solitary title for almost four decades at Hope and, actually, for his entire life.
Sure, de Haan is a professor of German, but heɫəs also taught Dutch and Russian in Hopeɫəs modern and classical languages department, a department he also chaired for 15 years. A Dutch immigrant, he was a sergeant first class in U.S. Air Force and a spy for the National Security Agency (NSA). de Haan coached Hope volleyball for two seasons in the early ɫə80s, served as the Centurian fraternity advisor for numerous years, and was Hopeɫəs faculty liaison for the Chicago Semester over three decades. His longtime teaching on the integration of faith and learning in the First-Year Seminar and Senior Seminar programs were additional ways he served Hope and fulfilled his call to follow Jesus and to lead others to Him.
And with each duty, or better yet, opportunity, de Haan applied his patent reliability and integrity. Nothing less could come from an unflappable Dutchman who adroitly does what needs to get done. ɫɜPlus I canɫət think of a time when heɫəs complained about anything,ɫɝ said Dr. Lee Forester, longtime colleague and professor of German, at de Haanɫəs recent retirement celebration. ɫɜAnd I can think of only one time when heɫəs been miffed.ɫɝ
Why would deHaan ever be either annoyed or cross? To him, the question is moot. After all, ɫɜIɫəve said on several occasions that itɫəs been nice that the college, year in and year out, has offered me a contract to teach here, but Iɫəd have done it for nothing,ɫɝ de Haan admits with a wry smile. ɫɜNot that I didnɫət need the paycheck. Itɫəs just that teaching at Hope was so fun and so enjoyable that I could hardly call it work.ɫɝ
de Haanɫəs journey toward Hope and speaking four languages started when he was seven. Born in the Netherlands, he immigrated to the United States with his family in the fall of 1953 to escape what he calls ɫɜa homeland messed up by the Germans.ɫɝ His parents had applied to immigrate in 1948, and the elder deHaans patiently waited five years ɫɔ learning English all the while ɫɔ before they were granted permission to board a ship, cross the Atlantic, and settle their young family in Pella, Iowa, where other immigrant family members were already living.
ɫɜWe arrived on Saturday evening and we stayed with my Uncle John,ɫɝ de Haan recalls. ɫɜWe went to church on Sunday and I didn't understand a word. And then on Monday morning, we were sent to the Christian school. Fortunately, there was a first grade teacher there who spoke Dutch.
ɫɜWhen we got home from school that first Monday, we sat down at the table for our evening meal,ɫɝ he continues, ɫɜand my parents said right away, "Let's reach the understanding that this will be the last meal at which we will speak Dutch.ɫɝ
And with that, young Sander would become bilingual quite quickly. Mealtime and school time were meant for English, but when his Pella uncles came around, de Haan snuck in on Dutch conversations, keeping his native tongue fluent and unforgotten.
He would go on to Calvin College and there majored in ɫɔ somewhat ironically ɫɔ German, graduating in 1967 with fluency in a third language. Heɫəd take that aptitude to Northwestern University to earn a masterɫəs, with the intentions of a doctorate, but two years into his graduate work ɫɜthe draft board in Iowa contacted me saying my name had come up and I should report for a physical which I did and, unfortunately, I was healthy as a horse.ɫɝ
His masterɫəs degree fortunately complete, de Haan chose to serve in the Air Force, and instead of being sent to Vietnam, he was sent to Syracuse, New York. His multilingual propensity caught a commanderɫəs ear, and in Syracuse he learned Russian. ɫɜI did nothing but study Russian at Syracuse University,ɫɝ he says. ɫɜSix hours of classes a day and then usually three or four hours of homework at night. Nothing else for a full academic year.ɫɝ
With more than enough Russian in his multi-lingual cache, de Haan was sent to San Angelo, Texas, to learn radio operations for six months and from there, he went to Washington state for survival training for six weeks. His next tour would be in Germany, where, de Haan says in his typical matter-of-fact, no-big-detail manner, ɫɜI became a spy in the sky.ɫɝ
Three days a week for 12 to 13 hours at a time, de Haan would be flown out over the Baltic or the Mediterranean to listen in on Russian military communications. On land he would write reports on what he had heard for the NSA. His operations were so covert, his commanding officer didnɫət even know what he was literally up to.
ɫɜThe base commander thought we were weather men,ɫɝ de Haan chuckles. ɫɜEven he did not know that we were doing intelligence. He didn't have the classification or security clearance to know.ɫɝ
ɫɜOnce in a while, a Russian MIG would come out to look at us,ɫɝ de Haan says, and neither his expression nor his eyes belie the reality of the sight, ɫɜbut they pretty much knew what we were doing. They just didn't know how well we were doing it because we learned a lot of stuff they would not have divulged if they thought we were listening in. So the things I wrote to NSA were of real interest to them.ɫɝ
For two years, this was de Haanɫəs unwavering, unquestioned, uncomplaining duty. He was offered ɫɜa nice bonusɫɝ to continue spying while stationed in Alaska, but he and his wife, Georgia, wanted to get back to Northwestern. His answer was a polite ɫɜno thanks.ɫɝ A doctorate in German needed to be finished, and a teaching career needed to get started. The G.I. Bill and a National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) fellowship helped him do both.
Straight out of Northwestern, Ph.D. in hand but with prior teaching experience at Elmhurst and Calvin Colleges, de Haan came to Hope in 1979 and helped to develop and be part of the faculty team that taught an intensive, interdisciplinary, two-semester, 19-credit sequence called ɫɜThe Two Souls of Germany.ɫɝ (A sister sequence was also offered in the classics called ɫɜThe Golden Age of Greece.ɫɝ) Each served as a precursor to Hopeɫəs present-day cultural heritage (IDS 171 and 172) offerings that explore history, literature and philosophy concurrently. And it was de Haan, as the chair of the Academic Affairs Board, who led the rearranging of those general education requirements to their current-day state.
It didnɫət take long for others at Hope to see de Haan as a willing and able participant in all of campus life. In 1980, he was asked to be Hopeɫəs varsity volleyball coach because ɫɜsomeone had heard that I had played a lot of volleyball in the Air Force.ɫɝ When he was asked to join the Hope coaching ranks, he unsurprisingly replied, ɫɜSure, sure, I can help with that.ɫɝ His two-year record was an impressive 51-12 overall and 19-5 in the MIAA.
For 39 years, de Haan would teach, research and advise. He led two alumni tours to Europe, participated in the Chapel program, went on student mission trips, and offered his FYS and Senior Seminar students the opportunity to join weekly prayer meetings with him. There is hardly an inch of Hopeɫəs campus community that de Haan didnɫət touch.
ɫɜI canɫət possibly envision enjoying a career as much as Iɫəve enjoyed teaching at Hope,ɫɝ he confirms. ɫɜTo see the growth and maturation of our students from freshman to senior years has been a great joy.ɫɝ
Now, when people congratulate him on his impending retirement, de Haan is not completely comfortable with the recognition, though he is grateful of their well wishes. Retirement is not an achievement, he says; it is just another thing he gets to do.
And no doubt, de Haan will do it well, just as he has with every other aspect of his life. While Georgia continues her work for a bit longer in Hopeɫəs Admissions Office where she has been on staff for 25 years as an application processor, de Haan has plans to expand his role as a lay-shepherd for his church ɫɔ Calvary Christian Reformed in Holland. ɫɜI visit people in hospital or shut-ins who ask if I would stop by more often,ɫɝ he says. ɫɜNow I can.ɫɝ
And he and Georgia will no doubt visit their four children ɫɔ Christopher ɫə94, Elizabeth ɫə98 Boeve, Alex ɫə00 and Nicholas ɫɔ and six grandchildren more often, too. Retirement may not be an accomplishment, but it can be a time to do more of what one loves to do. de Haan has had a good handle on that mantra for most of his life.