Voyage to Venezuela (17) – Dear Dad, Etc. – Lad’s First Few Days in Caracas – January 7, 1939

 

    Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad) @ 1939 in                               Caracas

Caracas

January 7, 1939

Dear Dad, etc.:

Mr. Human came into Caracas late yesterday afternoon and seems to be in excellent health and has already lost quite a few inches off his waistline. In fact, the belts he had with him were too big and the first thing he asked for was one of the belts that I had brought along. As yet, he does not know what I will do immediately but in time I will have to learn the locations of different towns and the road conditions surrounding them or connecting them.

If possible, I would like to have you send or wire me $15 or $20. The worst of it is that that amount down here is equivalent to about five or six dollars up there. It is at least three times as expensive to live here, perhaps even 4. I sent a letter to Cecilia yesterday but that was before Mr. Human arrived and I had to borrow the money for the stamp so I sent it by regular mail. Therefore it will probably be a week or two before it arrives. In it I finished the details of my trip down here and described my idea of Caracas. The weather here is like April or May, quite cold at night and during the day it has never been hot enough to take off my suit coat.

For your information or anyone else’s, the trip down here cost me $30 plus the $25 given me my Mr. McCarter which totals $55 and multiplying by 3.2, the current rate of exchange, makes it about 176 Bolivars in Venezuelan money. At that, I got off pretty cheaply because I met a man on the boat, Frank Da Costa, who hails from Brooklyn but has spent most of the last eight years here and knows the people and how to get the most for the least. These people would take the shirt off your back if you gave them half a chance.

I still can’t make myself understood but everyone says that in three or four months I will be able to converse in Spanish fairly well.

I am staying at the Palace Hotel now but Mr. Human says he is going to try to find a nicer place to stay where I can unpack my things and come and go without too much trouble or expense.

I may not see Dan for a month or so but eventually, I was told, I would work out in the field with him to help me with Spanish.

Oh, yes, if you send the money by wire, send it to All America Cables, Caracas; if by letter, to apartment 484, Caracas, in care of INTERAMERICA. I am fine.

Lots of  Love,

Laddie

Tomorrow, more Special Pictures.

On Monday, I will continue the story of the life led by Dan and Lad in Venezuela along with letters from Grandpa to his two sons, so far from home.

Judy Guion

Voyage to Venezuela (16) – On Board the Santa Rosa – January 2, 1939

 

GRACE  LINE                                                                                                                                                                      Monday, Jan. 2

4:00 P.M.

ON BOARD

Santa Rosa

   Dear Family: –

Well, tomorrow we are scheduled to dock at Curaçao at 9:00 A.M. and will probably lie at rest until 6:00 or 7:00 tomorrow evening. Thence on to La Guayra.  Everything so far has been fine and you can tell Dave, for me too, that I have not been seasick at all.

I have written Cecilia a fairly detailed account of the first day and a half of the trip  so I will just give a short resume and for details you had better see her.  Friday afternoon and Saturday morning I spent in exploring the ship and meeting a few of the many friends I have made up to the present.  Saturday aft.  I spent reading, I believe, and writing.  In the evening we had a Welcome Dinner in order to promote a more universal feeling of good-will among the passengers, which was fairly successful, and then a party in the combination Club Room and Bar.  No, I didn’t get drunk, in fact all I had was a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon and then I sat around and watched everyone else have a good or bad time, as the cases may have been.  I retired about 2:00 A.M. Sunday (yesterday), Jan.1, 1939.

I woke up too late for breakfast, which was from 9:00 to 10:00, so I slept again til 1:00 and had lunch.  I made a few trips around the deck and by about 3:00 it began to blow quite hard.  I sat in my deck chair and read a little and then studied my Spanish book until about 5:30.  By that time there was quite a strong breeze but it was very warm so I took a shower and dressed in white for dinner.  At: 9:00 there was a showing of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, which I enjoyed very much and then dancing in the Club Room until 12:00.

I got up in time for breakfast and then spent about an hour watching the waves, sea and flying fish.  Then on the boat deck, way up on top, I played a game of shuffleboard, which I lost 102 to 92, and then went below to dress for lunch.  After lunch there was a game of horse racing at which I won $1.25 for Mr. Burkhardt, I didn’t bet at all, and then I came up here to the lounge which brings me up to the present.

At 5:00 there is to be trap-shooting which I will watch, then supper and at 9:00 a pre-showing of a brand-new movie which has not yet been released at the theaters, so they say.  After that I shall probably retire in preparation for tomorrow.

This letter and the one to Cecilia will leave Curaçao by plane tomorrow, I believe, so it will probably be a few days before you get another.  Well, so much for that.

The sea has been quite smooth and the weather fine so far.  Right now I am perspiring sitting on the deck in the shade of an open window with my white suit on so you can see it is a little bit warm.

Lots of love,

Laddie

Voyage to Venezuela (14) – Dan’s Impressions From Curacao to Camp – November, 1938

This is a series of posts concerning Lad’s Voyage to Venezuela, taking a similar route as John Jackson Lewis during the first portion of his journey, about 88 years later. Lad and Dan had been hired by their Uncle Ted Human (husband of Helen (Peabody) Human), Aunt Helen, sister of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion, Grandpa’s wife who had passed away in 1933 after a long illness. This is Lad’s version of the adventure he was taking and the same trip Dan had taken earlier in the year, traveling with Ted Human to South America.This is part of a letter Dan wrote home telling the family a little about his trip to Venezuela and his impressions along the way. 

Curacao is a small Island in the West Indies.  It is a free port, where goods can be imported or exported without duty.  The outstanding characteristic of the island is oil.  As we neared the island we could see a thin film of oil on the normally blue, blue Caribbean.  Upon entering the harbor we could see the water line ….  A deposit of black oil and tar.  The famous pontoon bridge (Swings from a pivot on one end) opened for us as we edged slowly up the narrow channel.  We docked about a mile from the main shopping district, where we descended the landing stairs to the first terra firma since leaving New York.  The island had a disconcerting habit of lurching, now and then, like a Tom Collins, but we soon got our land legs and rode and walked around the city.  Women balancing various bundles (some even more difficult than the new deal budget) on their heads were seen often.  There are many autoes, mostly new, moving slowly around the narrow streets.  The Santa Elena was due to sail at midnight, but there was an exceptionally large cargo, so that the sailing didn’t occur until 3 AM.  I was about the only passenger still up and around, but the experience of seeing a large liner maneuvering around in the small channel to get out to sea, and the site of the thousands of lights on the oil refinery across the small harbor, was well worth the logy feeling next morning, as we sighted the first mountains of South America.

La Guaira (La Guayra) appeared through a misty rain about 11 AM.  It is a small, squalid Town surrounded on three sides by South America, and on the fourth by the Atlantic.  The long process of getting thru’’ the customs lasted from 12 noon until late in the PM.  The sun, which had come out in the excitement of landing, was nearing the horizon as we started up the amazingly spectacular highway to Caracas.  As our native driver careened madly up the hills and around hair-pin turns in the open Packard (1932) I decided that, if a reckless driver is dubbed a “cowboy”, then this driver must be a whole ranch!  I thought, a few times, that I was heading for the last round-up.  Toward the top of the mountains one of the front tires was pulled partially from the rim by taking too many corners too hard, and we stopped while the spare was put on.

As we sped into Caracas I received my first impression of a very humorous city.  The streets were so narrow that only one-way traffic was permitted.  There were plenty of Autoes, each equipped with an air horn worked by a rubber bulb, like the 1818 Ford, this in addition to the standard horn.  It is a city ordinance that the loud standard horns must not be blown in the City, so that at every intersection there occurs a series of most interesting bleats, wheezes, honks, and snorts.  The idea seems to be for every driver of the hundreds of cars in Caracas to blow the horn at every intersection, step on the gas, and may the best man win.  They even bluff trolley cars into giving them the right-of-way.  Of course, the trolleys are diminutive, as are the buses, so that they can fit in the streets, (period) ….. Gambling is illegal, so the Gov’t runs lotteries to make the people feel better ….. The houses are composed of several rooms built around an open, tiled court.  This court, is the same as a living room, but it is a bit hard on one’s imagination during the rain to have drops falling in grandma’s crochet work while drains from the roof gutters pour forth a gush of water that hurries across the floor to the center, where it disappears into a grilled hole.  The outside of the houses in the center of the city is a block-long affair of assorted doorways over which is hung a picture of Christ, Mary, or a few holy ghosts, widows which are barred (that word should be windows, altho’ it is true that widows are also barred), and large openings, which, when examined more closely, turned out to be stores, hidden by a copious layer of filth.  In all fairness to Caracas, however, it is only right to mention that every one of the city plazas are as pretty as any park in any city, even tho’ block apiece.  Some of them have tiled walks, with designs in them.  Also there are beautiful homes on the outskirts of town.  The weather is still unsettled.  It is a strange sight to see a cloudless sky of blue filled suddenly with dripping clouds which slip around the mountain peaks and glide through the higher passes like a mass of fog, high above the valley floor, wetting the city from above, while all around the sky is still blue.  The general effect is like April showers, but less reliable.

We stopped nearly five days in Caracas, and at every opportunity I explored the various sections.  We did a small job on the fairgrounds in Caracas.  We left for Carora on Tues. AM.  There was a good road as far as Puerto Cabello.  We passed through highland and tropical lowland.  We sampled some small bananas which were supposed to taste like apples ….. Poor things, they tried hard enough, I suppose.  Later we stopped for gas, and I tried the juice of the coconut, and learned that olives were not the only food which needed an acquired taste.  We went as far as Barquisimento Tues. We continued on to Carora over an increasingly bad road, desert bad-lands, across washes through some of which water still flowed from the rainy season.  We arrived in Carora and stopped long enough to get directions to Camp.  We arrived here late Wed.  afternoon.

Daniel B Guion (Dan) and his crew in Venezuela

I am installed now on the Carora to Cabimus road survey.  My duties, to date, include running levels for profile and manager of the two trucks in Camp (one rack body Ford V8, the other a Ford V8 Station Wagon), called respectively a camion and a camionetta by the natives.  My “crew” is two men ….. One for holding the rod, the other for clearing brush from the line.  Jesus was with me today! One of my men is named Jesus, pronounced Haysu.

There are four regular man besides myself in Camp.  Ted (Uncle Ted Human) and another fellow are here now, but will leave soon.  There are several peons in our employ.  There must be at least fifteen.  We have not yet left civilization behind, there are still several “towns” ahead of us, usually made up of one or two mud-and-wattle thatch-roofed huts.  The peons who live in these parts are part Indian, largely Negro, and part Spanish.

I have not been bitten yet by: 1) a snake, 2) a tarantula, 3) a malarial mosquito, 4) a scorpion, 5) a burro, but I have been tackled by blackflies, assorted mosquitoes, and very, very friendly garapatis, who are so affectionate that they burrow their heads right into my skin and hate to leave.  These garapatis vary in size from a pinpoint to the size of a small beetle, and are a sort of tick.  I pull them out with tweezers.

The camp is well above sea level, so that the type of vegetation more nearly approaches that of U.S., rather than the tropics, altho’ the plants here are all strange.  The temperature is just like our summer.  I am told that there are deer, wild turkey, tigers (wild cats), Iguanas and monkeys in this vicinity, but I have seen naught but birds and lizards so far.

I drive the truck to Carora tomorrow (Sunday, Nov. 6).  I shall mailed this letter then, providing I can get through the mud-holes, riverbeds and rough spots.  I shall drive the truck, and all our peons plus their friends and relatives will go with me.  They want to go to town, perhaps to see Snow White and the 7 Dwarves which is playing there.  The Walt Disney cartoons are in English, down here.  The feature pictures are English with Spanish sub- titles or straight Spanish.

Please show this to anyone interested.  I am well and happy.

More later.                     Dan

Next Saturday and following, I will post  the letters Lad sent home during his voyage and his first few days in Venezuela. 

Tomorrow, I will begin posting Special Pictures each Sunday for a while.

Judy Guion

 

Voyage to Venezuela (13) – Trip to Caracas – January, 1939

 

Alfred P Guion (Lad)

The trip to Caracas was an adventure in itself.  Our car was a large Lincoln of about 1931 vintage but to all outward appearances was in good shape, and was well polished.  It was a touring style body, the top was up and showed no signs of ever having been lowered.  The three of us, Frank Da Cosa, Paul Burkhart and myself rode in back, I in the middle.  I think that that was as good a location as any because I could look out either side with equal ease.  We wound around through the narrow streets of La Guayra for quite a few minutes, having to stop now and then to let a truck that was coming toward us pass, since the roads were too narrow for two large vehicles to pass at the same time in places and on other narrower streets, only one-way traffic was allowed.  It seems as if the bottom of the mountains are the border of the town for as we started up the first incline the houses were no more and after about one mile there were practically no signs of habitation along the right-of-way.

The road was about fourteen feet wide and seemed to go continually upward, winding and twisting like a snake, dipping only now and then to cross a little gully or stream and then on up again.  The turns were apt to be very sharp and our driver apparently thought nothing of them because he would only slow down sufficiently to be sure that the car would stay on the road.  The tires screamed on almost every turn and instead of looking at the scenery we were forced to spend more time watching the road in order to brace ourselves for the next turn.  What little I saw of the scenery however was very pretty.  Now and then the road went up parallel to the sea and with the clear blue sky above, the deeper blue water below and the brilliant green trees and grass between us and the stretch of sand that shone like a river in the bright sunlight, was something that I shall remember for quite a long time.  Now and then the road passed over a quebrada, as they are called, and if there were not too many trees I could look down for hundreds of feet to a deep chasm whose sides were so steep that only grass could get a foothold.  In other places the pavement was washed away or the road partly covered by a landslide and in these places the driver did slow down and once or twice he seemed to be sort of feeling his way across.  At one exceptionally sharp turn there is a monument erected as a memory to drive carefully.  It is an actual car that was wrecked quite badly on this turn, and is mounted on a cement pillar were all who pass cannot help but see it.  If one were to go straight instead of making the curve, or rather, turn, he would go down a steep embankment that is not far from perpendicular from many, many feet.  I doubt that one could live through it.  As we got higher and higher, we could see more and more hills behind this

On the very first page of Life in Venezuela by Alfred  P Guion, Lad writes:

“ Although I am starting off with every intention of bringing this little article, or whatever, to a close, it may never reach this ultimate end.”  Well, this is the end of his epistle.

I have a few letters written by Dan in late 1938 to the family and next Saturday, I will post a portion of one of them. It covers his trip from Curacao and his impressions of Caracas.

On the very first page of Life in Venezuela by Alfred  P Guion, Lad writes:

    “ Although I am starting off with every intention of bringing this little article, or whatever, to a close, it may never reach this ultimate end.”  Well, this is the end of his epistle.

I have a few letters written by Dan in late 1938 to the family and next Saturday, I will post a portion of one of them. It covers his trip from Curacao and his impressions of Caracas.

Tomorrow, I will post the last of the Bradford, Lewis, Rider and Irwin Ancestors. On Monday I will begin a week of The Beginning – Childhood Memories of Trumbull. 

Judy Guion

 

 

Voyage to Venezuela (12) – The Adventure of Landing at La Guayra – January 4, 1939

This is the  beginning of a series of posts concerning Lad’s Voyage to Venezuela, taking a similar route as John Jackson Lewis during the first portion of his journey, about 88 years later. Lad and Dan had been hired by their Uncle Ted Human (husband of Helen (Peabody) Human), Aunt Helen, sister of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion, Grandpa’s wife who had passed away in 1933 after a long illness. This is Lad’s version of the adventure he was taking and the same trip Dan had taken earlier in the year, traveling with Ted Human to South America.

 

The Harbor  at Curacao, January 3, 1939

Native  Quarters at Curacao – January 3, 1939

Wednesday, January 5, 1939, (actually, Wednesday was January 4th in 1939) was a beautiful day, quite well advanced, by the time I rose from my bed.  We were just outside the La Guayra harbor waiting for the Pilot to come aboard to guide us into the harbor.  With him would also come the Officials to check our passports and issue the landing papers.  While I was eating breakfast the small tender arrived and we proceeded into the harbor.  There were ships at the dock so we were able to tie up at the wharf with no trouble at all.  While the ship was being made ready for passengers to disembark, the Customs men were busily checking all passports of those intending to stay in Venezuela.  After studying the little red book for a few minutes they would ask a couple of questions through the interpreter, fill out a sheet in Spanish, which had to be signed by the person himself, and then with almost a tone of greed they asked for 10 Bolivars.  This seemed to be the thing that they were most interested in and after that you were told that you would get your passport back in the Customs House on shore.  The landing papers were given out at the Purser’s Office and we were allowed to leave the ship.  It was eleven o’clock when I got to the long gray galvanized sheet iron building that was the Office and storage room of the Customs Dep’t. and in Venezuela there is a two-hour lunch period which starts at eleven in some towns and in others at noon.  La Guayra starts its lunch hours at eleven so immediately after reaching the building everyone was chased out in the place was locked up while the men went out for lunch.  Naturally, the wise thing for me to do was to go out and eat also, but where?  Out in front of the office I met two men who had come down on the Santa Rosa with me and one of them had spent a number of years in Venezuela and knew where to eat, so we asked him to be our host and he did a nice job of it.  Had lunch at a famous seaside restaurant in La Guayra, of which I have forgotten the name, and drove around a little, seeing parts of the city.  It was all interesting and new to me and at the time, I didn’t notice particularly the dirt and filth that I saw on a call to La Guayra after I had spent a few months in Venez.

At 1:00 we all came back to the Customs Office and found out that before getting our passports we would have to call at another administration building and give some more information concerning how long we were intending to stay in Venezuela, our address, for whom we were working and 5 Bolivars more.  For this last we were given a receipt and told to go back to the Customs Office for the passport.  Arriving back there we were told that we would have to wait because there were a few other people in front of us.  They were terribly slow, and spent more time talking than working.  As our baggage was inspected and passed as O.K. the “jefe” put on a sticker with no regards as to how it would look, with a very messy and sticky glue.  Then it was taken to the car or whatever means of transportation one had, and packed for the trip to wherever.

I am getting a little ahead though.  On board the room Steward had a carton of cigarettes, and offered them to me at a substantial savings, and in answer to my question, told me that if the seal were broken they would pass the Customs.  Therefore I opened each pack and put them in my trunk in a conspicuous place.  However the official must have liked Chesterfield’s for when he saw them he smiled and removed five of the remaining eight, but tobacco, which is definitely taboo, he did not take after I told him that it was all I had with me.  It was a one-pound tin of Briggs about one-third empty.  Everything else that I had went through with no questions.  Our host, Frank DaCosa, had hired a car with our permission, for the three of us and all our luggage was strapped onto the trunk rack on back and by four we were ready to leave La Guayra.

At this point a man who had been hanging around quite closely handed each of us a slip of paper that had all the symptoms of a bill and from Frank I learned that it was one for the unasked for assistance that we had gotten in taking our luggage from the Customs house to the car and for watching it in the locked building during the noon hour.  It amounted to 15 Bolivars, which was ridiculous, but had to be paid in order to avoid a scene.  Therefore by the time we had finally left La Guayra I had paid a total of Bolivars 30, without counting my meal or the charge for the taxi to Caracas.

Tomorrow, more about my Bradford Ancestors.

Next week,  I will begin posting more Childhood Memories of Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Voyage to Venezuela (11)- Day Five on the Santa Rosa and Onshore in Curacao – January 3, 1939

This is the  beginning of a series of posts concerning Lad’s Voyage to Venezuela, taking a similar route as John Jackson Lewis during the first portion of his journey, about 88 years later. Lad and Dan had been hired by their Uncle Ted Human (husband of Helen (Peabody) Human), Aunt Helen, sister of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion, Grandpa’s wife who had passed away in 1933 after a long illness. This is Lad’s version of the adventure he was taking and the same trip Dan had taken earlier in the year, traveling with Ted Human to South America.

Lad wearing the suit he bought in Curacao

 

We were a little ahead of schedule due to the exceptionally fine weather and sea Tuesday Morning so that even though I got up at 6, the Island was only a few miles away, having been cited about four A. M. Being Dutch, it is a free port so there was no rigamaroll in landing and by ten we had navigated the very beautiful, winding channel with its picturesque brightly colored houses and lovely green foliage, and were in cars heading for the center of the only town on the Island, Curaçao.  While on the boat watching the shores gliding by I had spoken to a girl beside me at the rail and she told me that she and her mother and father were Venezuelans and had been in the States for the past nineteen years, she having gone there at the age of nine months.  They seemed to be rather nice people so on shore I stayed with them.  After wandering around the city for a couple of hours, Mr. and Mrs. Baptista were getting tired so they returned to the ship but the girl, Gabriella, and I wanted to see more so we stayed and continued our meanderings.  All articles were quite cheap since import duty is charged for goods coming into the Dutch West Indies and because of that reason I bought a linen suit for use in Caracas.  The material was a very fine and the suit only cost about half as much as it would have cost in the States.  At home I had worn a hat on only one or two occasions so I had no hat with me and being ignorant of the customs of the tropics, and also believing a hat necessary, I bought a cork helmet.  I have been sorry ever since that I let Briella, as I later came to know her, persuade me to buy it.  I believe that I have worn it no more than a total of two hours although it has been with me constantly.  We found no place on the Island that looked inviting enough to eat in so we went without lunch and saw quite a bit of the town before returning to the ship at about four-thirty.

The sailing time was set for six and we both wanted to change our clothes and be on deck to see the way the ship was warped away from the dock and maneuvered around in the small inland harbor in order to proceed on its way. By six we were on deck again but preparations for leaving were nowhere near completed and since supper was served at seven we went below to get ready for supper.  After supper they were still loading so we played a few games of Ping-Pong and waited about the decks watching the loading of the cargo. Twenty-two new cars had been unloaded and they were loading coffee and sugar into the space vacated.  By ten o’clock in the evening everything had been loaded and the gang-plank was hauled up the side and made fast.  The portholes were closed and the hatches sealed and battened down and we threw off the last line about ten-thirty.  To my surprise, all the maneuvering was done under her own power and therefore it took nearly an hour and a half to turn and get out of the narrow channel.  Then the Pilot left and we proceeded under the direction of the Captain for La Guayra and the end of my first sea voyage.  As the lights of the Island were fading in the distance, Briella and I went below, knowing that the coming day would bring the final preparations for leaving the ship, including the Venezuelan Customs Officials.

Tomorrow another post about My Ancestors, Elishe Bradford and his wife Bathsheba Brock.

Next week, I will begin another week of Childhood Memories of Trumbull.

Judy Guion

Voyage to Venezuela (10) – Day Four on the Santa Rosa – January 2, 1939

This is the  beginning of a series of posts concerning Lad’s Voyage to Venezuela, taking a similar route as John Jackson Lewis during the first portion of his journey, about 88 years later. Lad and Dan had been hired by their Uncle Ted Human (husband of Helen (Peabody) Human, Aunt Helen), sister of Arla Mary (Peabody) Guion, Grandpa’s wife who had passed away in 1933 after a long illness. This is Lad’s version of the adventure he was taking and the same trip Dan had taken earlier in the year, traveling with Ted Human to South America.

         Alfred Peabody Guion (Lad)

Monday morning I woke up with the warm, fresh sea breeze blowing into the room and discovered that, Jimmie, my room Steward, had opened the port hole earlier in the morning because the wind was so warm.  The exhilaration of that breeze was wonderful and it only took me a few minutes to dress and get out onto the deck.  Everything seemed wonderful.  The breakfast was good, the people were friendly, I had not been seasick at all and the sea had been smooth, even while we had passed Cape Hatteras, which is always the roughest part of the trip.  That morning, after spending an hour wandering about in meeting and talking to many new people, I asked for permission to go down to the engine room.  I was told that after the ship left Puerto Cabello there would be a conducted trip down below, but after explaining that I would leave the ship at La Guayra, the stop previous to Puerto Cabello, I was taken to meet the chief engineer, and when I had explained the circumstances he was very friendly and helpful and referred me to one of the assistants.  He took me down to the bowels of the ship and I spent another very pleasant hour or so asking questions and seeing how a modern steam turbine engine and the oil heated steam furnaces work.  It was quite enlightening and everything was fairly clean, but even with my coat off it was very warm.  Then, since I still had some time before dinner, I went up to the control and radio rooms and talked with a radio operator.  I could not get onto the bridge, however, because of very strict laws made by the owners.

After lunch and a game of Shuffle-board, I was beginning to get a little bit tired of waiting for the ship to land at La Guayra and as the day passed I found myself wishing more and more that I were already on Land.  That evening there was another movie – Walt Disney’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” – which I had seen previously but thoroughly enjoyed seeing again.  Then afterward, another dance and since on the morrow we were to land at Curaçao, a Dutch West Indies Island, I retired fairly early so I would be on hand to see the Island as it came into sight.

Tomorrow I will post what little I have found about Joseph Bradford amd his family. I may also post information about his son, Elishe Bradford. J

udy Guion