Coming from a legacy of a colonial era gone by when betrayal and self-hatred was part of the way of life for our people, I could safely say that Iwas really suffering in its aftermath. It had begun leaving its imprint on us as individuals and as a community in many sickly ways. Even today we continue to manifest these traits of a disastrous inheritance leaving us as an unsound people. Continue reading
At the beginning of my last article I stated that Don Abel Bravo’s “life and work helped to unite us as Abel Bravistas, even when we found ourselves living in the States and other overseas locations.” May I just add that the College, as we West Indian kids called it, also gave us a sense of belonging and place in this world that we inherited from our forefathers. Let’s talk about the actual school building, how it was founded, its facilities and its human inhabitants. Continue reading
Don Abel Bravo in two different periods of his life. Image thanks to La Prensa.
Let me take some time to discuss the life of a brilliant man who impacted the lives of many of us Westindian youths, both in Colon and Panama City as his life and work helped to unite us as Abel Bravistas, even when we found ourselves living in the States and other overseas locations. Continue reading
The ex-gang boy joined his classmates inside as I did also but I’m sure he was convinced that I would never forget the history of his gang’s persecution. I was just glad that most of the boys in my new school home were total strangers to me. I sat trying to remain quiet and away from the hustle reading a book I had found in the desk of the seat I had chosen. We hadn’t been in class long because we had spent the morning doing absolutely nothing constructive. Continue reading
This is an image from 1937 of some motorized Canal Zone Policemen. I was grateful for the cop’s intervention that day in front of the Commissary. Image thanks to czimages.com.
Yes, they had closed in on me that night at the commissary until a Canal Zone policeman, who had overheard their taunts and all the commotion said, “Get out of here and leave that boy alone!” This was one time that I had been really glad to see a zone police officer because his instinct had immediately told him that they were about to attack me and steal all the groceries my Aunt had bought from the commissary leaving all of her packages strewn all over the sidewalk. Continue reading
The item at the top which looks like a rustic wooden gun is the kind of Zip gun the boys shot at me with. Image thanks to etsy.com.
I finally recognized that nervous boy as one of the lads who had teamed up with other Westindian boys to make my life miserable often threatening me near San Miguel Hill. This morning, following the first day’s assembly, however, we were given the orders to go to class. In several lines, groups of students marched soberly to their designated classrooms. While I thought quickly of how to hold this little delinquent who was obviously far from his hunting companions, I said to myself, “You little piece of shit! I’ve got you now!” Continue reading