Pursuing a better tomorrow E-Book

Blanca De La Rosa

• Herausgeber: Angels Fortune Editions
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 422

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Although her origins lie in the village of Nocedo del Valle, in the region of Galicia, Blanca De La Rosa was born in Dominican Republic in the bosom of a humble family. Fate wanted her to be the living proof that we all can achieve our goals. From a childhood in the projects of New York, she ended up an executive at the American corporation ExxonMobil. It was when assessing her life that she decided to dig into her ancestors history and trace it back to her origins. Pursuing a Better Tomorrow is more than a novel gathering the history of three generations throughout over a hundred years, its a wonderful journey from Spain to the United States of America showing the reader our recent history, the ideologies of each time, the harshness of immigration, the struggle for survival, the courage of its main characters and the tricks of destiny, but most of all the strength required to reach a better tomorrow. This great novel will inspire you and give you wings to fight for your goals. Are you ready to get them?

Leseprobe

Pursuing a better tomorrow

Blanca De La Rosa

National Association of Book Entrepreneurs (NABE) Pinnacle Book Achievement Award Winner Summer 2019



Second Edition: July 2024First Edition: July 2019© Copyright of the work: Blanca De La Rosa© Copyright of the edition: Angels Fortune Editions

ISBN:978-84-120617-4-1

Digital ISBN: 978-84-120617-5-8

Literary Correction: Blanca De La RosaCover Design: Celia ValeroLayout: Celia ValeroEditing by Ma Isabel Montes Ramírez© Angels Fortune Editions www.angelsfortuneditions.com

All rights reserved for all countries The total or partial reproduction of this book, or the compilation in a computer system, or the transmission in any form by any means, whether electronic, mechanical or by photocopy, by registry or by other means, neither the loan, rent or any other form of a cession of the use of the copy without prior written permission of the copyright owners. “Any form of reproduction, distribution, public communication or trans- formation of this work can only be carried out.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Preface

Part IAn Adventurous Life on the Move

Chapter 1: The Dilemma

Chapter 2: The Reality of Military Service

Chapter 3: Galicia, Spain

Chapter 4: An Agonizing Decision

Chapter 5: The Voyage

Chapter 6: A Life of Reckless Abandon

Chapter 7: Home Sweet Home

Part II A Woman Ahead of Her Time

Chapter 8: A Hypocritical Society

Chapter 9: A Woman Ahead of Her Time

Chapter 10:Embracing New Beginnings

Chapter 11:The Gouging of Her Soul

Chapter 12:A Martyr of Life

Part III A Life of False Dichotomy

Chapter 13:Daddy’s Little Girl

Chapter 14:The Betrayal

Chapter 15:Unmasking the Witch

Chapter 16:Humble Beginnings

Chapter 17:Fleeing an Unstable Political Environment

Chapter 18:Adapting to Life in New York City

Chapter 19:Coming Full Circle

Chapter 20:The End of a Long Journey

Chapter 21:Gone with the Wind

Part IV A Life of Untold Blessings and Opportunities

Chapter 22:New York City: The Early Years

Chapter 23:The Concrete Jungle

Chapter 24:Too Young to Marry

Chapter 25:Major Decisions and Points of Inflexion

Chapter 26:The Joys of Parenthood

Chapter 27:Reclaiming My Identity

Chapter 28:Spiritual Awakening

From the Projects Blossomed a White Rose

Chapter 29:Taking the Girl Out of the Projects

Chapter 30:From the Projects Blossomed a White Rose

Chapter 31:A Near-Miss Experience

Chapter 32:Positive Disintegration

Epilogue

Chapter 33:In Pursuit of a Better Tomorrow

Bibliography

About the Author

Other Works by Blanca De La Rosa

Dedication

I want to dedicate this book to my children and grandchildren so they will know a portion of our family’s history. I encourage them to reach out for a better tomorrow with confidence, knowing that I will always be there to guide them in finding the courage, strength, and inspiration to forge ahead.

This book is lovingly dedicated to the memory of my husband. For 52 years, he was a steadfast companion, supporting my educational and career goals. He taught me invaluable lessons about love and relationships and was not just my best friend but also my most ardent supporter.

To immigrant children who find it difficult to see success in their futures, as they are so engrossed in the learning of a new language, acclimating to a new environment, and feeling the weight of what appear to be insurmountable obstacles to overcome.

To children growing up in poverty and dealing with circumstances that no child should have to experience. I hope that my story and my words can be a beacon of light and inspiration.

Preface



I often wonder what life would have been like for me had my family not emigrated to the US from the Dominican Republic, where many of its citizens live below the poverty level.

Like many other Dominicans, my family emigrated to the US in the early 1960s in search of a safe environment, economic improvement, and stable government. Despite the lack of a supportive Latino community to help in the transition, we could overcome the challenges we faced as immigrants.

Although my story contains excerpts of other people’s lives, it’s portrayed from the perspective of my reality—how I perceived and experienced life. Even when we share experiences, we will each have a perceived reality of the situation. Each of us sees the world through the lens of our unique perspective. My experiences led to my reality, and the experiences of my family, friends, and coworkers led to theirs. My story, experiences, and perspective, as relayed in this book, have absolutely nothing to do with those referenced therein. It is about me, my reality, and how I perceived specific events.

The novel spans more than one hundred years in the lives of three generations of my maternal lineage. The story begins with my maternal grandfather in Spain and culminates with my life in the US. Along the way, I document our humble beginnings and, in some cases, our struggles to survive in a foreign land. It details some hardships experienced by immigration, the sense of displacement, and the confusion of identity suffered by immigrants as they struggle to assimilate.

The text consists of four interconnected short stories, each of which focuses on one of the main characters of the era. The novel’s major themes include immigration, acculturation, coming of age, and the self-discovery of the characters’ psychological and moral growth.

In compiling the history of our family, I traced my maternal grandfather’s journey from late nineteenth-century Spain, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic to the twenty-first century in the US, unfolding in a story of aspirations and humble beginnings, where the characters dare to dream of a better tomorrow.

Both of my grandmothers died before I was born. Although both of my grandfathers lived to be in their eighties, they lived in the Dominican Republic, and I had no interaction with them as I was growing up in New York City. I learned about the lives of my maternal grandparents through the researching and writing of the stories of their lives.

As I embarked on the journey of researching, I was transported to a world and time long forgotten. In my virtual journey I traveled to a time in rural Galicia where the primary focus of each day was meal preparation and consumption—to a time in the Dominican Republic at the height of machismo, the cultural indoctrination that allowed the males to play a dominant role within the family, a practice encouraged by their society.

The intense emotional connection and relationship that I developed with my grandparents, even if it was on paper and in my mind, caught me by surprise. I could see their lives with the benefit of hindsight. I felt their pain, joy, and disappointments. It was the most rewarding and enlightening experience.

In tracing my maternal grandfather’s footsteps from Spain to the Caribbean, I traveled to Galicia, Spain. I visited his childhood family home in the village of Nocedo, where the family home’s external structure still stands. The inside of the house has deteriorated to the point where the floor of the second level has completely disintegrated. I interviewed a neighbor who could give a glimpse into the Fernandez family life. I also met and interviewed my Galician cousins who still live in Galicia.

Regrettably, my in-depth research started in 2017, long after many of the subjects had died. However, through interviews and a great-uncle’s diary, I could find more than sufficient information to document the stories of their lives. There was a lot of back-and-forth in the quest to reconcile everyone’s memories. My Galician cousins were generous with their time and patient with my questions.

My primary source of information about the life of my grandparents came from my mother’s recollection of her childhood and oral history relayed by her father as she grew up in Santo Domingo.

As I researched and wrote about the lives of my maternal grandparents and great-grandparents, I struggled with the accuracy of the portrayal of their lives and conversations. Where I included dialogue, it has been constructed based on the general knowledge of those interviewed and logical inference of what may have transpired. It’s not intended to be verbatim but merely to help the story flow.

I have used pseudonyms for those family members, friends, and coworkers who are still living, and I have used actual names for those who have long passed away. In some cases, names and identifying details may have changed. Some characters are composites which have passed through the characters’ lives. Time and events were compressed to keep the story moving.

In researching my personal family history, I wanted to understand the how and why of our blended cultural genetics. Recalling the history of the Spanish Empire and its impact on the shaping of the Western Hemisphere gave me a clear understanding of my Hispanic roots.

Interspersed within the narrative is a readable historical overview of the Taíno, the conquistadors, early settlers, the Spanish Empire, and the Dominican Republic, which unfold through the perspective of the character of the era.

In detailing my story, I hope that immigrant children, the children from the projects, and other children who doubt that there is success in their futures can believe in their dreams.

Children constantly look to those around them to serve as role models. I want to be a role model to that child who looks around for someone to emulate. I genuinely hope that my words can motivate and encourage others to believe in themselves, have big aspirations, and strive for success because achieving the American dream is attainable.

Destination: The American dream

Passport: Education

Travel Partners: Hard work, dedication, and stick-to-it-ivity.

Blanca M. De La Rosa, Fairfax, Virginia

PART I

José Fernández Carnero

1900–1983

An Adventurous Life

on the Move

Chapter 1

"The Dilemma"



Damn the Spanish government for putting him and his family in this position. His resentment of the Spanish government was a tangible force that dominated his every thought. He fiercely opposed this invasion and violation of his rights and freedom of speech.

José plunged the pitchfork into a bale of hay as he contemplated his predicament. He fed the animals and worked the fields as if in a trance, unaware of his physical movements. As he wandered through the hilly landscape and open fields, he was lost in a world of his own, contemplating his future.

His eighteenth birthday was rapidly approaching, and the agonizing thought of having to report to the military for Spain’s compulsory service weighed heavily on his mind. He considered himself a pacifist and anti-militarist. Regardless of his personal feelings, failure to enlist would cause his immediate incarceration.

Like many others of his time, José was a conscientious objector who claimed the right to refuse to perform military service on the grounds of freedom of expression, conscience, religion, dislike for the government, an unpopular war, or the violation of his rights.

For over two thousand years, Spain had been militarily involved in battles both at home and in its former and current colonies and territories. Although Spain remained neutral during World War I (1914–1918), it was militarily active elsewhere during the early part of the twentieth century. Since 1909, Spain’s primary war engagements had been related to strengthening its position in North Africa.

José gathered the firewood for the evening, as he racked his brain, trying to figure out an alternative to enlisting. Could he report to the Spanish government and offer to pay a fee instead of service? Rumors abounded that the rich escaped conscription by paying money to the government. He quickly dismissed this idea, as he recognized it was unlikely that the son of a peasant farmer could get away with bribing his way out of military service.

The compulsory enlistment for three years of active duty and then potentially being transferred to reserve forces was so much more than he wanted to commit. He did not want to enlist for even one day.

José recalled the lively discussions and dilemmas surrounding his older brother’s enlistment. Juan had not wanted to join either. Instead, he had wanted to travel to Cuba, but their father, Salvador, would not hear of it. José was ten years old, but he clearly remembered the discussions before Juan had joined the military. He also recalled the heated discussions when Juan had returned on leave a year later.

Maybe it was Juan’s words and experience that shaped José’s outlook about the military, or perhaps it was his way of rationalizing his desire to escape the stiff, ridged, and stifling environment his father had created with his strict rules and iron grip on the family. Nevertheless, José was adamant about not enlisting in the military. Juan’s experience was sufficient for him to make his decision.

Chapter 2

The Reality of Military Service



The dreadful conditions of military life were quite clear to Juan six months into his tour of duty. In 1910, Spain had engaged Morocco in war (the second Rif War), even though the effort was unpopular with most of the Spanish population. The Spanish army was ill-equipped and suffered heavy losses to a fierce and skillful enemy equipped with superior weapons. The second Rif War claimed the lives of approximately 2,500 Spanish soldiers.

After ten months of service, Juan had been defeated and overwhelmed by the heavy burden placed on him and the other Spanish soldiers. He wished his parents had facilitated his trip to Cuba.

Juan waited impatiently for his leave. He was eager to go home and demand that his father help him wake up from the nightmare of war. He didn’t know how his father could be stupid enough to think that joining the military was better than going to Cuba. His father had claimed that serving in the military would afford Juan the glamor of travel. Well, Juan had news for his father—there was nothing glamorous about military life.

Finally, at the one-year mark, Juan could take his leave and travel to his hometown of Orense. He walked through the fields, toward home and the family farm, practicing in his head what he would say to his father.

Donning his full military garb and the experience of the previous year did not stop him from feeling like a child in his father’s presence. To his astonishment, he was still afraid of his father’s wrath. His father’s reactions were unpredictable, especially when one questioned his authority. Now that Juan was back at the farm, he questioned which was worse—the military or his father’s temper. He even debated whether he should leave without approaching his father.

It took Juan an additional day to summon up the courage he needed to speak with his father. He would have preferred to speak with his father in private; but given the size of the house and the time of day, both his mother and José were in the kitchen. Nevertheless, he forged ahead, as it was now or never.

As he cautiously approached Salvador, Juan appeared calm, but his rapid pulse and sweat-dampened shirt betrayed him. “Papa, I need to speak with you.”

“Juan, you have been fidgeting and moping around for the last couple of days. What’s on your mind?”

Juan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and said in a quaky voice, “Papa, I do not want to return to my post. The past year has been a nightmare. Men are maimed and dying daily. Each day, I ask myself whether it will be my last day. I want you to help me travel to Cuba.”

“I will do no such thing. You committed to the military, and now you must complete your tour of duty. How do you think your desertion will look? It will make you look like a coward.”

Juan noted that Salvador’s voice was softer than usual. Could it be that his father was feeling sympathetic to his plight? Emboldened by the tone of his father’s voice, Juan responded, “Frankly, I do not care how it will look. Enlisting in the military was the wrong decision. I should have gone to Cuba instead.”

“Juan, there is no such thing as a right or wrong decision in life. Life is about choices, options, opportunities, and what people eventually make of them. You must now make the best of your time in the military.”

If Salvador’s conciliatory tone and words of encouragement were meant to make Juan feel better about his military service, it only increased Juan’s agitation. At that precise moment, Juan despised his father more than ever; no longer threatened or afraid.

The rage that welled up in Juan gave him the courage to stand up to his father. With arms flailing and a pointed finger, he angrily retorted, “How dare you preach to me about options and choices? You made this decision for me. I wanted to go to Cuba, and you refused to help me, insisting that I enlist in the military. You think you know it all, and everything has to be your way. If you had given me the option to make my own decision about my future, I wouldn’t be here complaining about my military service. But this was your decision, not mine.”

When he finished candidly saying what was on his mind, he stepped back and braced himself as he waited for his father to lunge at him. To his surprise, his father’s response was a tepid one. Could it be that his father regretted having forced Juan to enlist? Or was he respecting the fact that his mother and José were witnessing the interaction?

Salvador stood from his chair, chest puffed, and in his sternest tone said, “First and foremost, let this be the last time you speak to me with such disdain and disrespect. Don’t think for a moment that your military uniform will stop me from giving you a good beating. I did what I believed to be in your best interest and that of our family. Notwithstanding that decision, the choices you make from this day forward will dictate the outcome of your military service and the rest of your life. My advice is that you try to make the best of this situation. You can be brave and get honorably discharged. Or you can be a coward and run away from your reality. Juan, running away from your reality is not the solution to a difficult situation. People with true resolve, determination, and strength of character will find a way to resolve any problem when presented with a difficult or unpleasant situation. So, what’s it going to be, Juan?”

Juan was still seething and did not immediately respond. He had to take some time to compose himself and think about his prospects. His father’s refusal to help him was not what Juan had expected. Juan had naively imagined himself on a beach in Cuba, believing he would not be returning to his post.

At that specific moment, Juan both hated and respected his father. His father was an uneducated brute and a strict disciplinarian who did not hesitate to use corporal punishment for the slightest infraction. But he was also a wise and ethical man who instilled in his sons the value of keeping their word and commitments.

Juan was both disappointed and encouraged. He had to go back and make the best of his years in the military. He did not know exactly how, but if he changed his attitude, the remaining time of his military service would be easier to endure.

“Papa, I understand your reasoning, but am extremely disappointed. You did not support my decision to go to Cuba then, and you are not supporting me now. But I urge you to reconsider your position when the time comes for José and Miguel to enlist. I do not want my brothers to live through what I have had to endure.”

Juan dramatically turned to José and said, “I know you are only eleven years old and may be too young to understand this right now, but I want you to remember this evening and everything we have discussed here tonight. I want you to understand the reality of life in the military. I do not want anyone else in this family to live the horrors of Spain’s senseless, insane, and irrational wars.”

As the oldest sibling, Juan was protective of his brothers. He wanted to shield them from their father. Their father’s autocratic rule made them feel as if they did not have a life of their own; he always had to have the last word. In Juan’s mind, it was them against their father. Juan vowed to help his brothers should they want to travel instead of enlisting for military service.

Juan reluctantly returned to his post.

Chapter 3

Galicia, Spain



José Fernández was the second of three sons born to Salvador Fernández Souto and Francisca Carnero Fernández. He was born on August 20, 1900, in Nocedo del Valle (Nocedo), an agricultural village in Orense, one of the four provinces of Galicia, Spain.

Spain is a complex nation with a rich culture. The Iberian Peninsula, the second-largest European peninsula, is located in the southwestern part of Europe. Portugal and Spain comprise most of the territory, with Andorra and a portion of France along the peninsula’s northeastern edge, as well as Gibraltar on its south coast.

The peninsula, bordered by the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Pyrenees Mountains, gives Spain a strategic advantage. The peninsula connects the Mediterranean with the Atlantic and Europe with Africa.

Columbus’ discovery of a route to the Americas and Caribbean in 1492 launched from the Iberian Peninsula.

Historically, Spain’s geographic location on the Iberian Peninsula has attracted the migration of the many diverse peoples that have contributed to Spain’s diversity. Throughout history, people from other nations have been drawn to Spain, creating a multicultural, multireligious country with many distinct regions. The rich multicultural tapestry of Spain resulted from many years of migration, integration, and settling.

Spain is a diverse country composed of seventeen different autonomous regions. The regions vary in economic and social structures, languages, and historical, political, and cultural traditions.

Galicia is one of Spain’s seventeen autonomous regions. It is in the northwest and is bordered and culturally influenced by Portugal. The provincial capital, Orense, is the largest population center, while the rest of the province is predominantly rural.

The official language of Galicia is Gallegan, one of the Romance languages. Gallegan has many similarities to Portuguese, of which it was historically a dialect. Gallegan is not a dialect of Spanish, nor is it badly spoken Castilian; the language merely shares Latin roots with those languages.

Galicia has rolling hills, meadows, and mountains with oak, myrtle, and pine forests. Despite the lush green landscape, the land does not produce in abundance, as the earth is rocky. The excessive rain permits the ground only one harvest per year.

Despite the difficult, rocky soil, the Celts settled and thrived in Galicia, building their mountain townhomes from stone. The men hunted and fished, and the women did agricultural work. Traces of Celtic roots still abound in Galicia. The local musical instrument is the bagpipe, some of the stone houses in the green countryside simulate those of Ireland, round stone huts still dot the hilltops, and many of the Gallegan words have Celtic roots.

During the early twentieth century, Galicia remained relatively impoverished and isolated by Western European standards. Its climate and topography made farming the primary source of the region’s revenue; cattle raising, pig breeding, and agriculture dominated the economy. The economy of Galicia was an agricultural system with a tradition of self-consumption. The predominantly rural population reaped their primary source of income from the commercialization of wine and the breeding of cattle.

Orense, with an approximate area of 2,800 square miles, is surrounded by mountains and is the only landlocked province in Galicia. Historically, these mountains isolated the territory from the more populated Galician coast, with no connecting roads to the other regions. The northwest province of Galicia is mountainous, and mountain ranges surround the central plains. The topography isolates each valley, increasing each village’s tendency to think of itself as autonomous.

During the early 1900s, the lack of progress in the region was staggering compared to the rest of Spain. Galicia was so far behind that it was difficult to believe that it would someday attain a reasonable standard of living, let alone catch up with the rest of the country. The mountainous terrain and isolation kept the province economically challenged and encouraged many to immigrate to other parts of Spain and the New World.

The village of Nocedo, located on a plain irrigated by the Tamega River that crosses the valley of Monterrey from north to south, was a rural community comprised a group of houses made primarily of stone, pizarra granite, and wood. Nocedo’s economy consisted of the autonomous production and consumption of perishable goods, bartering, and breeding cattle and pigs. Theirs was a subsistent economy that relied heavily on local natural resources to provide for the town’s basic needs.

Nocedo was a community of approximately three hundred inhabitants. There were no clinics, hospitals, or government offices. The town’s inhabitants had to travel approximately three miles by foot or mule to the town of Verín to conduct official business and receive medical attention.

The Fernández home in Nocedo was a two-story structure typical of the rural Galician household. Their way of life was reflected in the internal organization of the house, with fully used spaces all under one roof. An interior partition separated the upper and lower levels, connected by an internal stone staircase accessed through the back of the house.

The family’s living quarters were on the upper level and consisted of one bedroom with three cast-iron beds, a large kitchen area, a combined living and dining room, and a balcony that surrounded the entire perimeter of the house. The lower level stored the agricultural tools necessary for daily survival, together with granaries, haystacks, and livestock such as chickens, pigs, and cattle.

Theirs was a cozy home that met their needs even if it felt as if they were living in cramped conditions, one on top of the other. Most, if not all, of their neighbors, lived under similar conditions.

The kitchen was the focal gathering point for the family, as food consumption and food preparation were at the center of their daily lives. Everyone in the family contributed to the production and preparation of the meals.

Salvador and the boys spent most of their time outdoors, working the fields, tending the livestock, planting, gathering firewood, bartering, or selling produce and livestock.

Their mother, Francisca, tended the house, spending most of her time in the kitchen. Cooking dominated Francisca’s time, and her typical day began before sunrise, as preparing meals was time consuming. The seasonings had to be ground up using a mortar and pestle, as well as the butter churned, meats cured, bread baked, and the water for cooking fetched from the well. Properly baking the bread and maintaining the simmer in the stew required stoking the flame and making constant angle adjustments for the stew pot hanging by the trammel hook.

With an oversize hearth and a chimney that effectively drew out the smoke, the kitchen was a spacious room. In the kitchen, there was a wooden bench that had a backrest and a storage compartment underneath its flip top. The space-saving kitchen table was a wooden board secured to a wall, so it could be lifted and lowered as needed.

The hearth served multiple purposes: cooking, roasting, and heating the house during the cold winter months. The primary cooking utensil was a three-legged cast-iron Dutch oven pot used to prepare several types of food and allowed cooking from both the top and the bottom. Other cookware and utensils hung above the fire, suspended from a crane fitted with a chain with large links. Swinging back and forth above the flame, the iron bar with adjustable hooks served as the crane.

The hearth was the hub of the family’s home life, making the kitchen the heart of the home and the natural place to spend time during the long winter nights. They shared many memorable and tense moments in the kitchen. They gathered in front of the hearth before bed to warm up, tell stories, and plan their activities for the following day and their future. Some of the family’s most crucial decisions were made in the kitchen, sitting by the hearth.

Chapter 4

An Agonizing Decision



The Fernández boys had a short-lived childhood, as they were required to work at a young age. For the most part, the boys did not receive a formal education. Both Juan and José were withdrawn from the village elementary school to help their parents work in the fields.

The basic and simple daily life of Nocedo hardly made school necessary for an eminently rural peasant population. Formal education did not improve the economic situation of the average farmer of Nocedo. Besides the financial burden and loss of manpower that sending children to school posed for the rural population, most families carried a heavy tax burden.

Salvador and Francisca were determined to do the best they could for their boys. They taught their children the value of money, hard work, and a strong work ethic. Their rural and farming lifestyle was an arduous one, but they felt safe and protected within their limited universe.

That her children would venture outside of their controlled environment of their village had caused Francisca many sleepless nights. Throughout the years, Francisca had agonized over the idea of having to send her sons to the military because of Spain’s never-ending involvement in one conflict or another.

Despite the mild weather, Francisca shivered as she tightened her shawl around her shoulders. Francisca paced and fidgeted as she asked, “Salvador, when will these stupid wars end?”

Let’s not delude ourselves, Francisca, into thinking that someday this will end. We have to be practical and prepare to help José and Miguel avoid fighting in these senseless wars.”

She was visibly agitated by the discussion. As she continued to pace the kitchen floor, she acknowledged, “Salvador, I know we talked about sending the boys away, but I wonder if there isn’t some other way.”

His voice softened as he replied, “If there is another way, I don’t know what that could be. Francisca, try to control your emotions. You are going to worry yourself sick, and the boys haven’t even left yet. The time has come for us to act. I, too, have dreaded this day, but we have to do what is best for our sons.”

Francisca recognized Salvador’s sympathetic tone as his way of trying to appease her. But as the time for the boys to leave came closer, forcing them to make a final decision, she became more agitated.

Francisca was mild-mannered but having to send her boys away infuriated her. She immediately became protective. Though she was barely five feet tall, when protecting her offspring, she felt a surge of invincibility that made her feel like a giant.

She furiously banged her fist on the table as she snapped, “I hate the Spanish government for forcing the timing of my sons’ independence. If José and Miguel go away, I will be sentenced to a lifetime of never-ending agony, not knowing if they are safe, hungry, or ill. I don’t think I can survive the blow of sending my children away forever. Losing our little girl to illness at four years of age was devastating, and I do not think I could survive the loss of another child.”

Salvador, always portraying an air of confidence so Francisca could calm down, stoically insisted, “Francisca, stop being so dramatic. You will not die. I know that losing our daughter was hard, but you survived. You’ll survive this too. So, what is the right or fair time to let our children become independent?”

Francisca stared at Salvador with disdain and exclaimed, “Stop being sarcastic; you know I do not know what the answer is. What I know is that allowing our children to become independent and sending them away forever are two distinct realities.” With tears streaming down her cheeks, she sobbed, “The Spanish government has decided that the right time is eighteen years of age, and I do not know what this means to me as a mother.”

Salvador put his arms around his wife. “It means that as a mother, you must let the boys find their way in life. Whether they are eighteen or twenty-five, we have to let them make their own choices in life. There will be times when we will worry and others where we may feel a baseless dread. But we can also choose to remember the happy times.”

“Salvador, I know our children will someday be on their own. But if they go overseas, it is likely we will never see them again. We will miss out on so much of their adult lives.”

Salvador did not immediately respond to Francisca. Instead, he slowly sat back and rubbed his temples. “Francisca, given the economic conditions in Galicia and the compulsory military service, we should give the boys the option of leaving Spain. I believe that the best option for the boys would be Santiago de Cuba.”

Santiago de Cuba had a supportive Spanish community. Many Galicians had immigrated to Cuba during the middle of the nineteenth century, as Spanish emigrants could only travel to Spain’s remaining colonies. As such, migrant laborers moved to Cuba and Puerto Rico to work in the sugar plantations.

Despite the supportive Galiciancommunity, as parents, both Salvador and Francisca had a difficult time accepting that they would never see their sons again.

Salvador had saved sufficient money for a full third-class passage plus initial seed money. Unfortunately, it was what they could afford. Imagining the experience of the third-class voyage was enough to give anyone nightmares.But what other choice did they have? The boys could take their chances on the voyage or go to war.

Francisca and Salvador had reason to be concerned. The transatlantic liners did not have a good reputation with third-class passengers. The liners had a reputation for poor sanitation, and diseases were said to be common. Also, the transatlantic liners treated the steerage passengers as human cargo.

Saving enough money through scrimping and scraping, they provided José with the option to decide his fate. They were confident that José would repay the loan. They also agreed that if José were going to travel to Cuba, it would be best if he did so a couple of years before the mandatory enlistment age of eighteen to avoid any potential conflict with the military authorities.

On a quiet evening in March 1916, as they were sitting by the fire, Salvador and Francisca presented José with the option of traveling to Cuba instead of enlisting in the military.

Even though he had contemplated these options over the years, José still struggled to reconcile the two options before him. Both required that he live away from his family. Joining the military was temporary, while fleeing Spain was permanent. Fleeing the country to avoid conscription was a criminal offense, and the Spanish government would demand his immediate incarceration if he ever returned to Spain.

“Papa, mama, I know that living away from home will not be easy. But I also know that serving in the military is something I’m not willing to do. I saw what military service did to Juan, and it makes me hate the Spanish government that much more. So, I will accept your offer and travel to Santiago de Cuba.”

Francisca sat at the table, biting her lip and holding back tears. With a quivering voice, she encouraged her son, “José, we could not give you a formal education, but at least you know the basics of reading, writing, and calculating numbers. Your strong work ethic and willingness to work hard will serve you well.”

After everyone had gone to bed, José sat by the fire, contemplating his future and that of his family. Who would help his father work the fields and tend the livestock? Working in the fields and taking care of the animals had been José’s responsibility. Although his fatherwas physically fit and healthy for his sixty-eight years, he still needed help with the farm. Juan lived in Verín and had joined the military police. Miguel was only nine years old and attended elementary school. José’s parents now acknowledged the value of formal education and wanted to allow Miguel to study.

Venturing into unknown territory at the young age of sixteen would be painful and scary. José accepted that his fate was not in Spain, but the devastation of not seeing his parents ever again was painful. José would not see his parents grow older, be there to take care of them when they could no longer fend for themselves or attend their funerals when they died.

Recognizing and appreciating the sacrifice his parents had made, José arranged his trip to Cuba. His parents depended on him to work the fields, and the selfless act of helping him move to Cuba was priceless.

On the day of his departure, José left the house before his family awoke. He could not bear to say goodbye to his family, especially to his mother. Seeing the pain in his mother’s eyes or hearing Miguel begging him not to leave would break his heart. Instead, he took a long last look at his sleeping family and mouthed “goodbye” as he quietly sneaked out of the bedroom. The discussions of the previous few days had been hard enough and would have to suffice.

José left his boyhood home with his parents’ blessings.

Chapter 5

The Voyage



José walked the three miles from Nocedo to Verín to board the train that would take him to the Port of Vigo. He was leaving Galicia with a heavy heart, a lump in his throat, and many fond memories; not caring what the Spanish military may or may not think. Surely, they would not travel to Cuba for a peasant such as him.

In May 1916, three months before his sixteenth birthday, José embarked on a harrowing sea voyage destined for Santiago de Cuba.

His palms sweated, and his heart raced as he walked up the gangway and looked into the sea of people below. Boarding the ship was slow, as the people in front of him stopped every five seconds to glance back and wave goodbye to their loved ones.

José nervously turned to look back, beyond the sea of people, as he was unsure what the future had in store for him. He wanted a last look at Spain. As he gazed out toward the horizon, he was doubtful that he would ever return to his beloved Spain. Boarding the ship represented the end of his relationship with Spain. It represented the first day of his life without the support of his family. He did not know what future awaited him in Cuba, but he was looking forward to the adventure.

As he approached the immigration officer, he noticed that the officer was checking papers and identification and asking questions. José could not overhear what was said, but a sudden paralyzing thought overcame him. He broke out into a cold sweat at the sudden thought of the officer questioning him about the nature of his trip. What would he say if the officer asked about his return date to ensure he enlisted in the military? What if the officer demanded proof of his return?

José felt ill-prepared, as he had not discussed this with his father or Juan, and he had no idea what he should say. They had not entertained the possibility that anyone would ask why he was traveling without a plan for meeting his obligation to the Spanish government. It was a long five-minute wait as he stood panic-stricken and sweating profusely despite the unseasonably cool weather.

When José finally reached the top, the officer asked to see his passport and boarding pass. As the officer examined his boarding ticket and passport, he commented, “You appear to be nervous. Are you alright?”

José exclaimed, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s that I’ve heard many horror stories about the unsanitary conditions of the ship.”

With a hearty laugh, the officer teased, “Is that it? What do you do for a living?”

“I work the fields and tend the livestock on my parents’ farm.”

The officer laughed harder at José’s response. José was puzzled. He did not get the joke. What was so funny?

The officer joked, “Then you will feel right at home. You appear to be a healthy and strong young man. If you can stand the stench and mess the animals make, you should be fine on this voyage. There will also be about one thousand four hundred ninety-nine other steerage passengers to share your misery. Have a great trip and good luck in Cuba.”

José still did not understand what was so funny. Nevertheless, he thanked the officer and quickly walked away before the officer asked him any more questions.

He then descended a narrow stairway down to the steerage compartment, where the third-class passengers resided in the cheapest possible accommodations. A steward directed him to the bow of the ship, where the single men lived for the duration of the voyage.

On his way to the steerage, José noticed with concern the grilled door fitted at the bottom of the stairs.

He asked one of the stewards, “What’s the purpose of the grilles?”

The steward informed José, “Ship regulations require that third-class passengers remain in their area of the ship. Once third-class passengers have boarded and settled in their berths, a steward closes and locks the grilles to prevent the classes from mingling. But don’t you worry; we immediately open the grilles in the event of an emergency.”

José thanked the steward, but as he continued to move toward his cabin, he replayed the steward’s words in his mind. The steward’s response was not comforting to José, as he recalled the fate of the third-class passengers on the maiden voyage of the Titanic, which had collided with an iceberg on April 14, 1912. Rumors were that the first-class passengers had been given priority boarding on the lifeboats, while the third-class passengers were confined behind locked grilles and sank with the ship the following day. The rich spared at the expense and suffering of the poor. Although these were rumors, the locked grilles concerned him.

Lost in dreadful speculation, he reached his assigned cabin and berth. As he explored the sleeping arrangements, he was glad to see that each berth had a clean mattress, blanket, pillow, utensils, and bucket. He unpacked and settled into the six-foot-long and two-foot-wide berth, acknowledging that this was where he would be living for the next twenty days. So far, so good.

At dinnertime, José ventured out with utensils and bucket in hand to find the dining facilities, where the daily menu consisted of soup or stew and sometimes bread, biscuits, or potatoes.

Throughout the voyage, the berths received little to no attention from the stewards. He realized poor sanitation was most likely the leading reason the transatlantic liners had diseases such as cholera and typhus.

The stench of the vomiting was overpowering because the stewards did not immediately clean up after those that had been seasick. José’s lungs begged for fresh air, but as a steerage passenger, he could not go up to the main deck of the ship. The best he could do was go onto the poop deck when it wasn’t overcrowded. Only the fresh breeze from the sea overcame the sickening stench, which was so much worse than his parents’ barn.

It was then that he understood what the officer had found so funny. But the officer had been wrong; this was much worse. At least back home, he could open the door and air out the barn.

The steerage area accommodated approximately fifteen hundred people. In the confined space, any sound that reached José’s ears was irritating beyond endurance. There were loud, grating wails from children crying and running around; men were arguing and yelling profanities; women were screaming, trying to ward off unwanted advances; the daily hustle and bustle of the crew; and the sound of the ship’s engines. José wished he could avoid it all, but there was no place to hide.

He longed to be back at the farm, with its sounds of nature, his neighbors conducting their daily duties, and the quiet, peaceful, starlit nights. The only pleasant and calming scenery and sounds on the ship were those of the sea—the crescendo of the rising wave and its thunderous roar as it finally crashed against the side of the vessel.

Before he’d embarked on this voyage, José had heard the horror stories of the ocean liners treating third-class passengers like human cargo. However, nothing could have prepared him for the overcrowded and unsanitary conditions below deck.

By the seventh day of the voyage, everything was dirty, sticky, and disgustingly disagreeable to the touch. The dining area was a cesspool of germs. The only clean area José could run to for shelter was his berth, but his cabin was not immune to the stench that permeated the entire lower level of the ship.

Given the unpleasant conditions on the ocean liner, the twenty-day voyage from Galicia to Cuba had been the longest twenty days of José’s life.

As the ship neared the port in Santiago de Cuba, José recalled discussions he had heard over the years about the Spaniards’ colonization of the Caribbean islands. There were two distinct opinions about the Spanish conquistadors’ colonization of the Americas.



The argument promoted by Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda—philosopher, theologian, and proponent of colonial slavery—was that the native people were inherently inferior and should be placated forcefully by a civilized master. Their inferior intellect made them natural slaves, as nothing better could be expected of them. Their sins as pagans warranted subjugation and conversion to Christianity. Spain’s ingrained religious culture dominated the crown and its military. The conquistadors forced their religious beliefs and ethics on the indigenous population, pressuring them to convert to Christianity or perish.

On the other hand, Bartolomé de las Casas, a sixteenth-century colonist who acted as a historian and social reformist, was fiercely opposed to the Spanish conquistadors’ intensely violent and abusive methods of colonization, which inflicted considerable losses on the indigenous population of the islands.

Bartolomé de las Casas published A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies, wherein he chronicled his personal experiences during the first decades of the Spanish colonization of the Americas. In this account, de las Casas documented the atrocities committed by the Spanish settlers against the indigenous people.



Based on José’s knowledge of the Spanish government’s method of operations, he was inclined to believe Bartolomé de las Casas’s point of view, as slavery was a widely accepted practice in sixteenth-century Spain.

José would have to develop his own opinion once he was in Cuba and could see and hear firsthand how the Cubans chronicled their history.

Chapter 6

A Life of Reckless Abandon



José arrived at the Port of Santiago de Cuba with little money, few personal belongings, and many fond memories of his family and his hometown. As the vessel approached the port, he was in awe of the beauty of the turquoise waters and the green, mountainous island with its white, sandy beaches.

Santiago de Cuba’s landscape was spectacular with its combination of sea, mountains, and urban structures. On one side, he faced the enormous bay of the Caribbean Sea with the Sierra Maestra Mountains as a backdrop. When he turned to the other side, he faced urban colonial structures. How could one not be awestruck by the contrast of colonial architecture and the majesty of nature? The landscape was enough to make the horrendous twenty-day voyage worthwhile.

The city was muggy, hot, hilly, and exhausting. He was going to miss the changing seasons and cold weather of Galicia.