The First Years in Horten

My parents moved to Horten before I was born. The Navy’s main shipyard was there and was used by the occupying forces. Because of this, the Allied Forces decided to bomb the yards, and shells rained down on the naval base. My parents had to be evacuated, so I was born at the home of my grand­parents, Karen and Peder Døviken, in Krokstadelva, on No­vember 14, 1944. We later returned to Horten. My grandfa­ther, Johan O. Smith, died the year before I was born.

We remained in Horten for the first two years of my life. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember some later visits to the home of my grandmother, Pauline Smith. I can clearly remember the indescribably wonderful atmosphere around her. I felt so safe and secure. Though I can’t really say why, she was a tremendous strength in my life. I often had conversations with her and felt her goodness and care. This meant a lot for me as a young child. She died before my tenth birthday—I remember that day well. My parents had heard the news early in the morning. I was all ready to go to school when my mother said that grandma had passed away. I felt a great emptiness and sorrow inside. On the way to school, I stopped by a war memorial for people who had died fighting for their fatherland. I stood there and thought about my grandmother. I remember asking God and the angels to protect me since I didn’t have my grandmother anymore. When she left us, I felt that something safe and good—some-thing I needed—had left me. So I felt a great need for God and the angels to continue to watch over my life.

My grandparents’ home in Krokstadelva was a center for the Resistance movement in Eiker during the Second World War. My grandfather—Peder Døviken—was a calm, level­headed man. One day German soldiers came on a surprise visit to search for weapons or other things that were used in the Resistance work. They also went into the barn, sticking pitchforks into the hay to see if anyone was hiding there. Grandfather stood quietly and observed the whole episode, and then he said to the soldiers: “You won’t find anything here!” And they didn’t either, because he was standing on the very spot in the woodshed where the weapons were buried in a metal box under the earthen floor!

In 1945, some months after the war was over, I sat on a rug in my grandparents’ garden, a seven-month old baby. A jour­nalist from Buskeruds Blad (the local newspaper) had come to write something about the Resistance movement in Eiker and the significance my grandparents’ home had had. A long article appeared in the newspaper under the headline: “Fam­ily of 11—and all of them engaged in illegal activity.” My grandparents and all nine of their children took part in the work. The article concluded by saying: “In the course of our conversation we have walked up to the Døviken farmhouse. A picture of harmony and beauty, it blends in with the land­scape. No one could have imagined that this farm was one of the most important centers for illegal activity during the war. There is a peaceful atmosphere everywhere—from the horse that meets us just behind the gate, to the watering trough on the farm—everything—right down to the little toddler aged seven months sitting contentedly on a rug out in the front yard. This is the youngest member of the Døviken family, a grandson from Horten, who, given time and opportunity, will grow up to be a dangerous resistance worker.”

This fearless behavior was something my mother also in­herited. On many occasions she has been in dangerous situa­tions, sometimes with mentally ill people who were quite un­predictable. She has an amazing ability to bring clarity to people’s thoughts, so that even those who are severely men­tally deranged become quiet. She has had many dramatic ex­periences of faith. Once she saw a man attack another man. She cried out, “Stop!” Then she went over to them and sorted out their quarrel, and they both slunk off in shame. If I were to choose one person to take with me to war, my mother would be my first choice. She is free from fear, and I would never be worried about her failing in any situation. Before the revival broke out in 1991, she was feeling a bit old and tired and wanted most of all to die and go home to the Lord. But after the revival broke out, she came to life again, and today she is experiencing that life is really worth living.