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LIFE HISTORY of MR.
ENRIQUE PENDAS
(Florida)
I was born in the province of Asturias
in the year 1865. The town in which I was born is so small that it does
not appear on any map of Spain. I am about as old as Christopher Columbus,
who discovered the new world only because of the grit of the Pinson
brothers. Columbus was at a total loss when his compass needle no longer
marked a due west course.
I went to Cuba when still very young, and was completely amazed with the
beauty of this land. It has a wonderful fertility, yielding three crops a
year, a thing that no other land in the world can equal. And above all is
the hospitality of its people who are always obsequious, and trying to
please. Where else can one find these qualities? It is a second nature in
them.
I do not consider myself only Spaniard, but a Spanish American, as all
these republics in South America have the blood of Spain in their veins:
they are the true daughters of Spain. We are not Latins, as many in this
community would like to call us. We are all Spanish Americans, and there
should not be any distinction between us. We are all brothers in blood as
well as in characteristics.
When I was in New York I had a private teacher, who was one of the most
learned men that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He could speak
and write many languages. I remember saying to him one time, that the
Spanish language was more expressive than the English, and he told me:
"What is there more beautiful than this passage in English: The twittering
of the birds, the cooing of the doves." However, he said this with so much
expression that it really seemed that you were hearing the birds and the
doves.
I remember also a friend of mine who was a socialist. In those days I
mixed up in everything. The day previous to the elections I was with him
in a building where there were four speakers talking for him, each speaker
in a separate window. It was raining and thundering, but the crowd
remained there listening. I remained in the building until early hours of
the morning. When the votes were finally counted, he had received 65,000
votes.
Just before establishing our factory in Tampa, I went to Key West and
remained there eight months. Our factory, Lozano Pendas & Co., was finally
established here on May 15th, 1887, when I was 22 years of age. I remember
that when I established the factory here, I gave employment to nearly all
the workers of Sanchez & Haya. I have always treated the cigar-makers as
human beings, not as animals. I thoroughly understand their nature.
I founded the Centro Espanol de Tampa (Spanish Club), and although I hold
number 1 as being its first member, I have retired from the club
altogether. They have sent committee after committee to get me to go back,
but I have principle in my life. The reason for this action of mine, if
you must know, is that the [Centro Espanol?] gave a reception to the
former Cuban President, Mr. Ramon Grau San Martin.(1) They acted like dogs
that lick the hand that whips them.
(1). This president enforced the 50% law in Cuba, whereby 50% of all
employees had to be Cubans (native). There are a considerable number of
firms owned by Spaniards whose employees are all Spaniards, and this meant
that they had to throw out half of their employees and place Cubans in
their place. There were also several acts of violence against the
Spaniards during the Presidency of Mr. Grau.
Another thing that the Centro Espanol did, which is not in keeping with my
principles is the following: When the Spanish Ambassador came to Tampa, a
reception was held in his honor at "El Pasaje" restaurant. The first to
speak was the president of the Centro Espanol. He got up and spoke in
English -- a very rotten English at that. Then the Ambassador was called
upon to speak, and he also continued speaking in English. Then they called
upon me to speak, I got up, grabbed my hat, and sent everybody to H---.
Then I walked out.
It is unbelievable that a Spanish representative should come to a Spanish
colony and have everyone trying to speak a language which they do not
know, when they have the most beautiful language in the world at their
finger's tip, as you might say. I have my principle: what my reason
dictates is right, and I pursue that course to the end, irrespective of
the obstacles that stand in my way.
When the manufactures and cigar-makers arrived in Tampa, they found
nothing but a stinking hole with swamps and pestilence everywhere. When we
first arrived here, what little we found, in what was called Tampa, could
not even be called a village. We made not only what Tampa is today, but
the whole state of Florida. There were only a very few thousand souls in
all the State. We gave it life and placed it on the map of the United
States. This State owes everything to us.
There were no women in Tampa in those days. I would go to Franklin Street,
and would stand there hour after hour, but could not see a single woman.
When the beautiful sanatorium of the Centro Asturiano was built, Mr.
Torres, then president of the Club, found himself in a complete dilemma
with reference to the medical body. He was not equal to the task before
him. He fell sick and I took complete charge of the matter. When he
recovered I had already organized the hospital.
I remember that one of my cigar-makers was Mr. V. M. Balbontin.(1) He was
a very bad cigar-maker, but he was a very intelligent man. I took a fancy
to him and set him up in a barroom, at which business he made a complete
success.
(1) Mr. Balbontin has always been a man of great prestige in the Latin
community. At one time he came to the rescue of the Spanish Club, when it
was in financial straits by putting thru the Gold Bonds of the Club, and
sold to the members. It became, therefore, an internal debt.
Mr. D. B. McKay was raised in Ybor City. As a boy he was always among us.
He has not forgotten his friends. He attends all the social functions of
the different clubs in Ybor City. When he first ran for Mayor of Tampa, I
was his chief supporter, and I myself placed him as Mayor of Tampa.
Peter C. Knight is another one of the "strong men" in Tampa, who visits
all the Latin clubs on Christmas Day, and then winds up by visiting me at
my home.
Every year I make substantial donations to all worthy charitable causes.
However, I never give a cent to the Salvation Army or some of those other
charities which keep salaried men. When I give my money, I must know that
it goes straight to the needy persons, not to somebody's pocket.
When the terrible storm that destroyed the entire town of Santa Cruz del
Sur, Cuba, I immediately set a movement on foot to succor those people. I
was afterwards offered a certificate in recognition of my act, which I
still hold. I also pay the quotas of many members of the Clubs, who are
out of work. Only last week I gave a check for $25.00 for this purpose.
I have been in many meetings of the Cuban Club, and very many of the ones
attending the meetings are Spaniards. At one of these meetings I brought
up the matter of sending a committee from the Cuban Club to the officials
in Tampa. Not a single one wanted to go; they were afraid. So I appointed
myself the Committee and went there myself. It is absurd to be afraid of
voicing your rights before those who came here after we had founded a
city.
Since the first societies were formed, the doctors here have been carrying
on a most brutal war against them, very similar to what the doctors have
been doing in Cuba against the "quintas". They are nothing but a bunch of
shameless rascals. At a meeting I placed my sentiments into words, and
told them plainly what I thought of all the doctors. I stated that at
least 50% of the people buried in the cemeteries, were killed by them.
I was afterwards told that Dr. Helms, a very good friend of mine, had
taken offense at this statement of mine. So at another meeting I went
straight up to Mr. Helms, and told him that I took exception with him, as
there are exceptions in all cases. When I commit an error with a friend, I
promptly rectify it. I am not afraid to go up to him and acknowledge my
error. However, my accusation holds good for all the rest of the doctors.
When my left arm was broken at the joint, the doctors here said it was a
dislocation. They placed the joint back together, but not the broken
bones. It commenced giving me pain, and the arm began to swell. I then
left for Havana, Cuba, and had the bad luck to go with the president to
the Centro Asturiano of Havana to his "quinta" or Sanatorium "La Covadonga".
He took me to the best specialist of the Sanatorium. This specialist told
me that my arm needed massage. I left that place in bad humor, and told
that specialist several things.
I then met a friend of mine who was not a "big shot", like the president
of the Centro Asturiano. He took me to the "Colegio Belen", where they had
an X-Ray apparatus, and which I believe was the only one in Havana. At
that time the X-Ray had not been perfected. There was not a single one in
Tampa. Although this X-Ray at the Coleigo Belen was not a very powerful
one, yet it showed clearly that the bone was broken.
I took this X-Ray photo to that specialist of the Centro Asturiano, and
showed it to him. He then said it clearly showed that the bone was broken,
and it was necessary to operate and place the bone back together. I told
him that it certainly needed an operation, but he was not the one that was
going to operate on me. I also told him that the arm was worth more than
he and the whole Sanatorium.
My friend then took me to another doctor who operated on me. As soon as my
wife knew that I had to undergo an operation, she promptly left for
Havana. Half an hour after the boat docked, she was at my bedside.
While in Havana I saw a very strange happening, and it was this: A full
blooded Spaniard had come to Cuba when very young. He married a Cuban
girl. He raised a family of eight children, all born in Cuba. One day he
arrived at his home feeling very sad as he had lost his position. He was
talking to his wife of how bad conditions were getting, when his eldest
son got up and said: "Gallego, go back to Spain where you belong, we don't
want you in Cuba." The father gave his son such a terrible blow that he
had to be carried to the Emergency Hospital. A few hours later the father
was on a ship bound for Spain, leaving the whole family behind.
During one of the strikes here in
Tampa, I went back to my home town in Spain, thinking of seeing all my old
friends and relatives. When I arrived there I found that I knew no one.
There was an entirely new generation. The only one that I recognized was
my sister.
I remember that upon my return, an old mulatto man who had been working at
my factory for many years, died. I attired myself in a tight fitting coat,
and a tall top hat. It makes me laugh to think of how I was dressed when I
went to this funeral.
In these days I was alone here, without my family to look after or
anything, so you can be sure that I wasn't too good. I did as I pleased.
The Union of Manufacturers here is composed of pirates of the industry.
They are not human; they can only think of new ways of squeezing the
cigar-makers more and more. All the rules and regulations are antequated.
Regensburg is not one of them, we only cooperate with them.
At one time certain rumors got about that I had said something about one
of the manufacturers. This was completely false, and it made me see red.
At one of the Manufacturer's meetings, I got up, and very loudly said that
whoever had said such a thing about me was a "apestoso hijo de perra", or
if you would prefer to have it in English: A stinking son of a b--. No one
got up to contest this.
Of Mr. Davis of Schwab Davis & Co., I can't say much. It is best to ignore
him altogether. He wanted to have the cigar-makers produce the "Panetelas"
at $13.00 per thousand and thought he could do it by threatening them. How
little he knows the nature of the cigar-makers! I told him that he could
sooner kill the cigar-makers of hunger, before they would submit to any
threat.
Most of the strikes in Tampa had been originated by the "International".
In the first strike that started on June 25th, 1910, the cigar-makers
demanded the recognition of the International. I headed the manufacturers
in the strike which lasted seven months.
This strike was finally ended on January 26th, 1911, and although the
cigar-makers lost they still had hopes of forcing recognition. On April
20th, 1920, the cigar-makers again went on strike, demanding recognition
of the Union. This strike lasted ten months, and I completely destroyed
the "International" for all times.
Another one of the things that was causing many of the strikes in Tampa
was the tribunes.(1) I advised the manufacturers to take out the tribunes
and there would be no more strikes. These tribunes were entirely
eliminated from the factories through my efforts.
(1) The tribunes at the cigar factories were the platforms where the
readers stood, and read novels, newspapers, etc. to the cigar-makers. In
some instances the cigar-makers would stand here and voice their
grievances.
The cigar making machines are ruining, not only the cigar-makers, but the
manufacturers as well. The factories must compete with other factories in
the country. This competition is ruinous. They are even producing a very
large size of cigar to retain at two for 05¢. When some are producing a
real small cigar in imitation of the cigarettes.
The cigarettes are also doing a great deal of harm to the cigar industry.
Their production has jumped by leaps and bounds since the war. They are
harmful because they have too much nicotine and opium, yet you see little
kids about the streets smoking cigarettes.
At one time the factory of Regensburg alone was producing over eighty
million cigars in one year. Today this former production is only a
pleasant memory.
The young generation is gradually leaving Tampa. Some are leaving for New
Orleans, where they are not wanted. There are four factories there that
are doing good business. Others are leaving for New York, Philadelphia,
New Jersey, and other parts. Only last week over 60 persons left Tampa. A
remedy should be found that will remedy this condition.
I do not intend to leave, however, for I have lived here practically all
my life and I intend to die with the cigar industry in Tampa. Of the very
first settlers most of them are today in their graves, and that is the
only place where I could go to see them. Only yesterday I went to the
Myrtle Hill Cemetery to attend the transfer of the ashes of an old friend
of mine. Only three or four of the real old-timers are left living today.
Text from: Library of
Congress, Manuscript Division, WPA Federal Writers' Project Collection
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