I’m sure many of us let this phrase slip out. You’re trying to walk past someone on the street and politely mutter, “Ope, let me just squeeze past ya.” Or you accidentally cut a tourist off as they exit one of the downtown shops, “Ope, sorry ‘bout that.” Deny it all you want, we all say it.
We’ve all been there—one hand on the wheel, the other pressed against our forehead in frustration. The endless flow of left-hand-turners, speedy minivan moms, and oblivious pedestrians crossing at the worst moments = a perfect recipe for chaos. Drivers creep into the intersection even as the light is about to turn red, while buses stop to pick up passengers, causing traffic behind them to back up—sometimes all the way onto the train tracks. Avoid this intersection at all costs. Oh! And they just put a Culver’s on that corner, so let’s see how that turns out.
You don’t talk about it, but you also know not to step barefoot in it. We watch as tourists admire the clam, glassy surface of the lake, but we know not to submerse ourselves in it. Why? The weird, greenish-brown muck lurking near the shores. We’re not quite sure what it’s made of, but somehow it’s airy, sometimes bubbly, and we’ve learned to tell our kids, “Look, but don’t touch.” Oh, and it smells funny too.
You’ve heard at least four different ways to say it, and you definitely have an opinion. (Though, some of y’all still pronounce it wrong.)
Imagine—it’s the dead of winter. Ellen Bacca has just declared a white-out, lake-effect snowstorm headed right for Holland. But… you need to embark on a Meijer run. Sigh The roads can’t be that bad right? Wrong. You still brag about that time when you faced the “inclement weather conditions” because you weren’t going to let a little snow stop you.
We don’t wait for a groundhog to call it—winter officially ends when Captain Sundae announces it’s opening day. The first Tommy Turtle of the season? That’s the true signal that winter’s over.
It’s sunny inland, but at the beach you’re freezing in a sweatshirt. We all know this verbiage means to pack a scarf, thermal layer, or dare I say, even an extra parka. And sometimes? This phrase is overused to the point we don’t believe what it means. Oh yeah, we’re said to expect about twelve inches of snow. We wake up the next morning to merely a half inch.
You know better than to walk through it—and you glare at anyone who does.
If you need to run into someone you haven’t seen in a decade, go to Meijer. It’s the hub for seeing an old classmate, former professor, or babysitter. Even in Holland, we all treasure our “late night Meijer runs.” Or, who knows… maybe you duck behind the produce when you see a familiar face.
They are not afraid of you, your lunch, or your stroller. Take one step closer to Hope College’s campus or Centennial Park and be prepared, because these squirrels are sometimes too friendly. They’ve been known to get too close for comfort.
#11: Big Red Is the Unofficial Holland Tinder
You’ve watched sunsets there, taken engagement photos there, and maybe had a first kiss there—while also holding your hat because the wind is aggressive. You’ve seen giddy tweenagers exchange contacts here. It’s cringey, but true. So, if you’re looking for your next date, maybe you take a stroll down the pier.
When spring rolls around and half the town’s rocking sandals while the other half is still trudging around in snow boots, you know who’s a local and who’s just visiting. Spoiler: the boots always win the first few rounds.
Driving 12th Street or Washington Blvd just to see the blooms. Need I say more?
Foxtail, Lemonjello’s, Bowerman’s, or 205—you have a favorite and won’t budge. We all have a go-to spot.
You smile politely but inside you’re already making a list of all the reasons Holland is better.
• The tunnel under River Ave. that used to smell way worse
• Still calling it the “Old Civic Center” even after the remodel
• Watching a driver panic when the Windmill Island drawbridge goes up
• A giant wooden shoe on someone’s porch that’s big enough for a toddler to crawl into and take a nap
If you’ve chuckled at more than six of these, congrats—we’d consider you a real Hollander. If not, you’re probably still pronouncing “Macatawa” wrong.
Sierra Ozolins is a West Michigan native, currently a student at Hope College. As an athlete, she is passionate about fitness—from running to weightlifting. With a interest for politics and lifestyle, she is intrigued how local culture, community, and everyday events shape the world around her—often with an iced coffee in hand and her dog by her side.
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