by Karen Pacheco
On Avenida Republica de Cuba, we stand before a yellow brick, neo-classical building reading the historical marker about El Circulo Cubano (the Cuban Club). This structure, built in 1917, contained a theater, pharmacy, library, ballroom and cantina, and is listed on the National Register of Historical Places. We enter and ask the receptionist if we can look around. From her baffled reaction, we surmise she doesn’t get this request often. After a briefing on what’s viewable and what’s off limits, our exploration begins.
We’re not in Cuba. We’re in Ybor (pronounced EE-bor) an historic, multi-cultural neighbourhood of Tampa, Florida, former flourishing cigar centre of the world. From boom to bust, Ybor has reinvented itself in response to economic and political waves. While it’s not the rich environment it once was during the late 1890’s to 1929; this community has evolved into a delightful mix of culture, cuisine and history. To sample that, we begin by walking the avenidas to explore some historic structures built during Ybor’s golden era.
In the Cuban Club we climb tiled stairs, woven with ornate wrought-iron railing to the second floor lobby. An expansive area with inviting overstuffed chairs nestle in one corner; plaques honouring past leaders dot the walls. Sunlight splashes through aged curtains lighting the white with gold trim bar. Cane chairs are stacked on the bar’s carved wooden ledge; mirrors behind, fogged and cracked with age.
Fortuitously, we run into Jesus (pronounced Hey-SUS) Cuban-American caretaker at the Circula Cubano. He shows us an entanglement of knob-and-tube wiring; its replacement on his to do list. Pleased by our interest in the building, he offers a tour. We learn that Jesus’ family was among approximately 500,000 Cubans who immigrated to Florida between 1959 and 1980, motivated by politics and economics.
Our eager guide escorts us to the two-level 450-seat theater, ballroom, cantina and salon. Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey’s big bands once played in the grand ballroom here. Now it’s primarily a wedding reception venue; not what it once was, but still alive and thriving.
A population that grew from 800 in 1880, to 16,000 in 1900, fueled development of mutual aid societies like El Circulo Cubano. Risk-taking entrepreneurs Ignacio Haya, a Spanish cigar manufacturer from New York, and Don Vincente Martinez-Ybor, a Spanish immigrant to Cuba, brought the cigar industry.
Martinez-Ybor acquired forty acres northeast of downtown Tampa in 1885 for its proximity to a port and railway, and its favourable climate. In 1929, there were two hundred cigar factories (Martinez-Ybor’s and others) producing over 500 million cigars annually. Ybor gained the indisputable title ‘cigar capital of the world’. Martinez-Ybor’s original three-storey factory on 9th Avenue built in 1886, continued to operate as a cigar plant until after World War II. It then transitioned from galleries and studios, to marketplaces and a restaurant. The Church of Scientology acquired it in 2010. Its striking red brick exterior dominates the beginning of Ybor’s street trolley route and the historic district that evolved around it.
Besides a Cuban social club, Ybor has several others: Italian, Spanish and German. These mutual aid societies provided educational, social and medical services for their ethnic group. Two of them had hospitals; some had boxing and dancing lessons. Tabaqueros (tobacco workers) paid weekly dues for each family member for these services. Social clubs enriched Latinas’ lives during those years.
We stroll towards La Septima (7th Avenue) Ybor’s commercial centre. Here we visit the Italian Club whose mission is similar to that of others–honour culture and “… maintain the historical facility as a functioning memorial to the working class immigrants.” We’re welcomed to browse the building. Today, wine vendors host a convention in the ballroom. Renting out rooms and historical preservation grants help to keep these once thriving clubs afloat.
Continuing along La Septima we amble past storefronts noting a variety of cigars offered: doble robustos, torpedos, Churchills and even orange, coffee and strawberry flavoured. We stop to watch some cigar makers rolling by hand using a cutting board, Chavata (knife) and shaping tools. About one hundred years ago, factories were filled with more than a thousand cigar workers (tabaqueros). The final steps were completed by the highly skilled and well paid torcedores. Lectors read to them to lighten the tedium of the task. Most made decent wages as they were paid by piecework. And, yes, a few women were among these workers.
Our walk continues along La Septima. Patrons at outside tables, listen to toe taping Latina music, sip a Café Cubano (espresso, sweetened with demarara sugar) and puff on their cigars. The acrid smoke invades our non-smokers’ nostrils; we won’t be sampling. For those partaking, it’s seems a leisurely, relaxed indulgence.
All this walking wakens our appetite. Lunch is at the oldest restaurant in Florida, the Columbia Restaurant, founded in 1905, the cigar industry’s zenith. This one-of-a-kind eatery consumes a whole city block, contains fifteen dining rooms and a lavish bar worth the visit to see. Patrons line up, some coming on bus tours to enjoy this gem of culinary history. The menu offers a variety of Spanish, Cuban, Italian, and fusion selections: Spanish bean soup, Cuban black bean soup and the award-winning ‘1905 salad’ Columbia’s original, along with a mixto (Cuban sandwich) a multi-cultural mix of ham, roast pork, Swiss cheese and mustard on Cuban bread. A pitcher of Sangria or Mojitos goes well with most menu items. Flamenco dancers perform nightly.
Cuban sandwiches are still made with Cuban bread baked at La Segunda Centrale nearby. This bakery also continues as a family owned and operated business, celebrating its 100-year anniversary this year. The guava turnovers are highly recommended.
Another historic building where one can feast is Carne, located in the former El Centro Espanol (Spanish Social Club). A red-bricked edifice with white stones accenting arched windows, hosts this restaurant. Cast iron balconies and a simple, but formidable Moorish-style archway, add to its unique French Renaissance Revival architecture. Now it’s home to shops, businesses and Carne, the restaurant where previously we enjoyed the early bird prime rib dinner and Finlandia Martinis. Both meal and beverage were bargains, generously portioned and palette pleasing.
Our Ybor sampling of culture, history, and cuisine comes to an end–minds and stomachs sate. This unique village illustrates survival, tenacity and cultural pride. Viva Ybor!
If You Go:
♦ The TECO line streetcar system from downtown Tampa to Ybor takes under fifteen minutes
♦ If you are in Tampa either departing on or returning from a cruise, it’s a rewarding day trip to Ybor
♦ A pleasant diversion from the beach scene, about a forty-minute drive from Gulf beaches to Ybor
♦ Take a break from Disney Orlando and go to Ybor (1 hr. 15 mins. 82 miles along I-4 West)
♦ History and photographs from Ybor’s past
♦ Columbia Restaurant (reservations recommended)
♦ Carne Chop House
♦ La Segunda Centrale Bakery
About the author:
Karen’s interest in the visual arts began with media studies at SFU. Her passion for travel photography was sealed when given a Pentax SP 1000 prior to a year’s trip to Europe, Middle East and Africa (1975-1976). Her career as an educator ended with an assignment in Shenzhen, China, allowing for Asian travel opportunities. Since then, she has devoted her time to photography and freelance writing. Recent travels include the Canadian Maritimes, Hawaii, western USA National Parks and the southeast United States. Karen is a member of the Delta Photo Club, B.C. Association of Travel Writers and CAPA (Canadian Association for Photographic Art). Several of her images have won awards. Her work can be viewed at: northohana.zenfolio.com
All photos by Karen Pacheco:
El Circulo Cubano façade
El Circulo Cubano bar
Jesus with author’s husband (El Circulo Cubano)
Entrance to Ybor, historic red brick cigar factory
Cigar roller
Columbia Restaurant
El Centro Espaniol
Rainbow colored piles of bound organic natural and dyed grasses are stacked against the wall. That’s the earthy aroma that meets you at the front door. The rhythmic whir of the foot-pedaled 1900 broom winder clicks and hums as Sam’s deft hands stitch together the layers of broom corn—a kind of sorghum—using a huge double-ended needle that he pushes through the broom. Medieval looking sewing cuffs made of well worn leather with metal disc inserts protect the palms of his hands from a wicked needle jab.
You don’t usually think of a broom as a thing of beauty, but these brooms are more than that. They’re artful. Functional and long-lasting, their craftsmanship belies the notion that “they sure don’t make things the way they used to” because Sam and Karen’s brooms are made the old-fashioned way, with artistry, attention to detail, and by hand.
“There’s a romance to this that you don’t find in your computers because computers aren’t fun to watch,” Sam opines. Romance, indeed. And you see what he means when you watch the gears and cogs and wheels and treadles of the cast iron antiquities move with rhythmic simplicity and complexity to create things that people use and need.
George Rodgers rebuilt the blonde brick building that exists now and bears the name “Rodgers BLK” at the top of it. George died in his upstairs abode in 1901 on the day that President William McKinley was assassinated. The Morrisons say George is a bit of a practical joker. Things seem to move from where they were put. There’s a clinking noise like that of a barrel bolt on the bathroom door every night around 9:00 that causes the cat to startle and hiss. And then, there’s the cigar smoke they get a whiff of every now and then. The Morrisons do not smoke cigars. But there is no fear where George is concerned. Sam and Karen think he’s happy they have the building. He’s become a family friend.
Though brooms take center stage, there is also the 1894 Chandler and Price clamshell printing press that sits unassumingly on the other side of the aisle. Loyal customers, Dave and Leslie who live 47 miles away in Manitou Springs, make the drive to Victor every year to get their Christmas cards that are made on that press.
Customers are drawn to the Victor Trading Company by word of mouth and come again and again. The Morrisons do business on a first-name basis and consider their customers close friends. “If we don’t make it, they don’t want it,” Karen says, referring to the fact that people who frequent the store are not interested in any of the factory-made stuff they may have on a shelf or two.
Yes, it too has changed like any popular coastal community which draws large crowds due to its unique history, natural beauty and tourist-pleasing highlights including the Monterey Bay Aquarium. But if you stare out at sea and at the nearby cannery buildings in the early morning, there are still signs of those historic sardine canning days Steinbeck spoke of so eloquently.
Two larger-than-life size murals based on photographs of the original “Mack and the boys” in his novel Cannery Row (who lived on the fringes of the canning district), are also nearby. Accompanied by quotations from the novel, they were created by local muralist John Cerney and lend a colorful charm to the entire area.
While Steinbeck Plaza has been around for awhile, a new Cannery Row Monument pays tribute to notorious, famous and colorful characters where were vital to the area’s evolution. Author Steinbeck sits atop the rock and Ed Ricketts, at the bottom, are surrounded by others who are reminiscent of what Cannery Row was like as a bustling sardine canning district. Four other men huddled together represent entrepreneurs who revived Cannery Row after it had fallen into decline. This is a poignant reminder of the vast history this area represents.
all over again.
About the author:
But closer examination of the burgeoning urban legend reveals that McCulloch was actually a shrewd businessman with a vision and a plan. The Arizona desert land he bought was a bargain. While not situated near any major highways, it was a popular fishing destination on the banks of Lake Havasu, a 45 mile long reservoir formed when the Parker Dam was built on the Colorado River in the 1930s.
Two years after Mr. McCulloch’s purchase of London Bridge, I emigrated to Vancouver, Canada and forgot about London Bridge. Then in 1992 My husband and I decided to take a road trip, and were returning home from Disneyland via Las Vegas. I saw Lake Havasu City on the map and decided I simply had to see the bridge in its new home.
The London Bridge Interpretive Center, however, was more down to earth. It provided fascinating information about the three-year project to relocate the bridge. When the bridge was dismantled, each piece of granite was carefully numbered to indicate its position in the structure. The pieces were then shipped from London to California via the Panama Canal, from where they were trucked to Lake Havasu.
My sense that Lake Havasu was an extension of Disneyland was actually not far from the truth. To develop Lake Havasu McCulloch partnered with C.V. Wood, the president of the McCulloch Oil Corporation. Wood had previously assisted Walt Disney to develop Disneyland, and was subsequently involved in creating the first Six Flags Adventure Park. It was Mr. Wood who supervised the entire bridge moving project, and who undoubtedly gave the new planned community of Lake Havasu City its theme park flavour.
I returned to Lake Havasu in 2014. The population of Lake Havasu has grown dramatically since 1992. There are housing developments all along the lake, and the island is covered with condominiums and resorts.
In 1928, Ernest Hemingway arrived at this tranquil island haven from Paris with his second wife, Pauline Pfeiffer, an accomplished journalist and contributor to Vogue Paris fashion magazine. The residence was a wedding gift from Pauline’s wealthy uncle Gus Pfeiffer, given to them in 1931.
As I toured the house, you are immersed with Hemingway’s remarkable literary achievements. Each bedroom commemorates one of his great novels. The rooms are filled with personal mementos such as European hand carved antique furniture, life size trophy heads and animal skins from his African’s safaris and hunting trips from across the American west. He drew his inspiration for his boundless writings from many of these treasures.
The most lavish feature of his residence is the 60 foot long, 24 foot wide, 10 foot deep in-ground aqua blue colored swimming pool, carved from the same solid coral bedrock which Key West Island sits upon. In the 1930’s, no one had a swimming pool, as there was no fresh running water on the island. Therefore, the 80,000-gallon lighted swimming pool had to be filled by drilling down to the salt-water table and pumping the water into the pool. Filling the pool took nearly three days and during the summer months, salt water would only stay fresh for a few days. As a result, each week the pool had to be drained, the pool surfaces cleaned of algae, and then refilled again.
As I explored the residence grounds I came across several cats, all named after Hollywood stars from the 1930’s such as Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Hemingway’s household included a six-toed white cat named Snow White, which was given to him by a ship captain. Sailors considered these unique cats to be good luck, as they were very effective at catching vermin on board ships. Today, the only residences of The Hemingway Home and Museum are 47 polydactyl (six-toed) cats and it is believed that Snow White descendants live on the grounds today. Your average household cat has five front toes and four back toes. With the polydactyl gene in their DNA, that allows them to produce six-toed off spring.
