I was struggling ti get freedom from this Chinese girl. Image of handcuffs thanks to Morguefile.
Throughout this time of setting up my garage routine and taking in new customers I never lost sight of regainng my freedom, I had placed Pug- La China- on the back burner. She had, however, been stepping up her visits from Colon to see me to pick up money for herself and the baby. Her attitude hadn’t changed, however. She continued to generate stories about me mistreating her- all lies- just to hold it over my head. Remembering how she had damaged my peaceable relationship with the whole of the Westindian community in Bocas, thus forcing us to leave, I tried to keep her visits as short and cool as possible. I would just hand her some money for the baby on the nights that she did come as I saw her step down from the bus in front of the garage. Continue reading
I kept the unopened letter in my back pocket. Image from Morguefile.com
That afternoon I hurried back to my garage, for I thought of never responding to my father or taking him up on anything he had to offer. This resolve not to respond to him set me free forever and I vowed not to open the letter or read it. At that time in our lives I had a bad feeling about allowing that man who called himself my father to dominate any part of my life again. By the time I reached my garage I had stuck the letter in my back pocket unopened and tried to forget it. I had known that man most of my young life and at that moment I rejected the very idea of having his cruel presence in my life ever again. Continue reading
Advertising was in a primitive state in the late 50’s in Panama. With his sign painting skills, however, Albert Scanterbury kept very busy with local business.
I was was soon to receive a letter from my father from Brooklyn by way of my old friend and neighbor Albert Scanter bury- But more importantly for me was how that letter would become an answer to my prayer. I had long ago stopped having much to do with Pug; we had been separated for a while and, to tell the truth, my immediate preoccupation was my garage job and how I needed to secure a place to live alone on my own and find a way of getting my nourishment in the mornings. Continue reading
Flat tires became oart of my routine.
I met the ensuing days with a comfortable routine. On many a night, I would lock myself inside the garage after deciding to stay all night, then do the natural things such as bathing and getting a well deserved night’s sleep on a bed roll on the floor of the garage. In the morning I’d change into my dried coveralls and wouldn’t officially open until some of the guys who worked all night at the gasoline pumps knocked on the roll-up gates alerting me that some customer had been looking for me for a mechanic job. Continue reading
Dwight D. Eisenhower, official White House portrait. Image thanks to Wikipedia.
The year 1953 was an eventful one as with most of the years ushering in the Baby Boomer generation. Dwight D. Eisenhower was inaugurated as President of the United States of America, with Richard Nixon as his Vice President. While there was a flaming Mau Mau uprising in the African colony of Kenya, most of Americans’ newfound joy, the television set, were tuned to “I Love Lucy,” the first real American sitcom. Continue reading
Cobblestone streets in front of the entrance to Sal Si Puedes in Santana.
That year of 1952 I’d become aware of just how much pleasure the two days of patriotic activity had given me and a real sense of joy for the first time. This was the first time in my life in which I was not only a part of a grand public ceremony but I had also been included in a highly honored civic observance. Continue reading