Words taken from “The Gift Of Story” by Clarrisa Pinkola
In our present time, there is a necessity for rugged independence among individuals. But this is often supported in good measure by deliberate interdependence with a community of other souls. ............. the stronger gravitational field that holds a group together are their stories... the common and simple ones they share with one another. It is the experiences you share with others and the stories that you tell about those experiences afterward, and the tales you bring from the past and future that create the ultimate bond. There is no right or wrong way to tell a story. So cajole the old grumpy ones to tell their best memories. Ask the little ones their happiest moments. Ask the teenagers the scariest times of their lives. Give the old ones the floor. Go all around the circle. Coax out the introverts. Ask each person. You will see. Every one will be warmed, sustained by the circle of stories you create together. Though none of us will live forever, the stories can. As long as one soul remains who can tell the story, and that by the recounting of the tale, the greater forces of love, mercy generosity and strength are continuously called…
My Memories of Mr. Morgan, Principal “Par Excellence” of Gamboa/Santa Cruz Elementary School
In my mind's eye I can see him as he stands under the school waiting to give us directions to enter the building. Mr. Morgan is dressed in black trousers and a white shirt with both hands behind his back. His left finger is securely placed in one of his belt loops and his right hand is fastened to the tong of the bell. "Seis, hello there" he bellows as a late-coming student scampers to enter his classes' line. A male recalcitrant student who is out of Mr. Morgan's view shouts "Bullet Head". Usually the principal ignores the insulting name calling, but this time he points and shouts emphatically at three unidentified hooligans: "You are a Bammy Head, You are a Bammy Head, You are a Bammy Head and I am a Bullet Head". Confession is good for the soul. With a clang cla-lang of the bell we unceremoniously climbed up the stairs and entered our respective classrooms. There were several wooden flower boxes measuring two feet by three feet which were kept on the outer window sills of two adjacent classrooms. Tragedy struck one day when one of the dirt-filled boxes fell at the same time that Mr. Morgan…
Refelction #4 – Federico Ellington Smith’s Reflections on The Dredging Division
The Panama Canal is known mostly as the world's premier man made inter oceanic transit waterway, connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Lesser known, and recognized are the men who built (1904 - 1914) and maintain this one of the modern seven wonders of the world. Under the direction of the United States, thousands of workers from around the world participated in this undertaking. Over 130,000 West Indian Blacks, mostly from Jamaica and Barbados made up this formidable workforce. While accounting varies in the literature, it is safe to say at least 30,000 lost their lives due to hazardous and inhospitable conditions. Descendants of these early Caribbean workers continued to be a major part of the Panama Canal Company's maintenance force. Dredging debris, dirt and rocks continues to be an indispensable function to allow safe and rapid transit of vessels (including today's PANAMAX SHIPS). This is the primary function of The Dredging Division of the Panama Canal Company. For 22 years after the opening of the Panama Canal, this operation was located in Paraiso Canal Zone. Gamboa proved to be a more strategic location for accessing problem areas as well as dump sites. Thus in 1936 Gamboa Canal Zone became…
Reflection #3 – Dr. Ricardo Millett’s Reflections of the Dredging Division
Recent photos of its guarded entrance shows a sign which reads, "Welcome To The Dredging Division". In the foreground, the viewer's eyes are drawn to the railroad crossing, the gate and the guardhouse that controlled entry to this industrial complex. To the average viewer, this photo is a rather mundane depiction of a heavy equipment site partially obscuring a water way barely seen in the background. To the Gamboa / Santa Cruz family it conjures up vivid memories of the wonderful community life we created and enjoyed despite all its complexities and contradictions. During the early days of "Silvertown" Gamboa, there was a heightened awareness that there could be calamitous consequences, including termination of employment for workers whose dependents dared to linger at, or attempt crossing into this restricted area. The thought of "potential consequences" settled in our subconscious and governed our everyday behavior. Unless delivering our father's lunch, messages from our mothers or waiting for dad to "knock off work", we stayed away from this gate. After all, there was no "Welcome" sign there. As kids, we knew very little historical details about the construction of the Panama Canal. Although we grew with a sense of this history, we…
Reflection #2 – Reva Richards Marcellin’s Reflections Of The Dredging Division
As I turn the clock back in time.... The year is 1947, when my dad, who was working at the Dredging Division on one of the tugboats, suffered a serious accident that severed his right leg, resulting in him being an amputee. The accident was caused by an 'oiler' who worked on the tugboat, and witnessed by Mr. Cornelius Gillings (aka Gunner), and other workers. My dad was released from the hospital after two months and remained at home until the medical staff at Gorgas Hospital and the U.S. Government were able to fit him with a prosthesis that allowed him to work. A year after he returned to full duty, he was assigned to work at the Motor Boat Dock as a Launch Dispatcher. In the beginning, when my brother Butch and I dropped off his food, the security guard would call my dad, and he rode his bicycle to the guard station to pick it up. Since he worked rotating shifts, (11PM - 7AM and 7 AM - 2PM ), Mom gave us scheduled days in the evening, where we took turns taking Dad's food to 'the gate'. Over time, and after numerous trips, one of the guards,…
Reflection #1 – Carlos Alleyne’s Reflections on The Dredging Division
I must have been somewhere between six and eight years of age when my dad took us walking to the Gamboa train station. I believe there were only four of us siblings at the time ( We are a family of seven children ). It was after dark and as we stood on the train station platform, Dad pointed out the dredge vessel on which he worked. It was docked inside the chain link fence that bordered the Dredging Division. I later learned that his title was that of a "Boatswain" (pronounced Bo-sun). In layman's terms, he was a Leading Seaman in charge of a small crew. I suspect he was recently given that title and was proudly showing his children the vessel on which he worked. As a young boy, I was delighted to be taken anywhere, but I remember being frightened by the loud clanging of the heavy metal forming parts of the dredge's mechanisms. These industrial noises gave me the sense that my dad's job at the Dredging Division was a dangerous one. Dad worked rotating shifts. One week, 3PM to 11PM, the following week, 11PM to 7AM, then, 7AM to 3PM. My favorite was the 3PM…
PLAYING WITH FIRE
By Federico Smith Ellington October 2013 I am Federico, Mrs. Ellington’s son. My younger brother Alberto, more known as Spooks, and I were adopted by our great aunt Maud E. Ellington, and her husband Charles W. Ellington. We called her “Auntie”, and him “Pa”. We lived in Santa Cruz, Canal Zone. They reared us according to the British adage: “Do not spare the rod, and spoil the child.” Auntie and Pa were avid quadrille dancers. They traveled throughout the Canal Zone Latin American communities, Panama City and Colon City to practice and dance quadrille. Mrs. Ellington even taught quadrille to young people in Santa Cruz. She had such grace and energy. Like a ballerina, she would spin on her toes like a top. These quadrille aficionados were members of quadrille clubs that attended quadrille balls in the Canal Zone, Panama City and Colon City. These were big cultural, social and entertainment events. One late evening after bathing and feeding Spooks and me, Auntie dressed us in our pajamas. She said prayers with us before sending us to bed. She had asked our next door neighbors Mr. & Mrs. Richards to “look in” on us because Pa and she were…
Gamboa Bridge Poem
As we left to find our fortunes we surely heard you say "Don't forget the lessons you've been taught and don't forget to pray" Your red light in the distance then we saw it turn to green Quickly you were out of sight but this is what you've come to mean Fun filled walks with childhood friends as we stepped across your trestles Young men wearing tailored slacks and girls in frilly dresses Singing to our hearts' content, delighting every ear Tho the Chagres flowed beneath us, there was no hint of fear We learned from you quite early that if we remain in lane We need not fear life's traffic or run away from pain These many years away from you with stops in distant places Allow us to retrace our steps to appreciate your graces On our return we'll find you there like Lady Liberty Saying "welcome home, I'm glad you're here" in all sincerity by Gyambo Boy