This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --part0_912348018_boundary Content-ID: <0_912348018@inet_out.mail.aol.com.1> Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Mary Alice, Thanks for this very informative article. Hope you don't mind me forwarding it to the list. Someone (Cheryl Sanchez ?) was looking for a Martinez. Liz --part0_912348018_boundary Content-ID: <0_912348018@inet_out.mail.juno.com.2> Content-type: message/rfc822 Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Content-disposition: inline Return-Path: <gearyma@juno.com> Received: from rly-ya04.mx.aol.com (rly-ya04.mail.aol.com [172.18.144.196]) by air-ya03.mx.aol.com (v51.29) with SMTP; Sun, 29 Nov 1998 00:34:56 -0500 Received: from x15.boston.juno.com (x15.boston.juno.com [205.231.100.28]) by rly-ya04.mx.aol.com (8.8.8/8.8.5/AOL-4.0.0) with ESMTP id AAA01798 for <LIZGERLITS@aol.com>; Sun, 29 Nov 1998 00:34:55 -0500 (EST) Received: (from gearyma@juno.com) by x15.boston.juno.com (queuemail) id DU7UZKH2; Sun, 29 Nov 1998 00:34:43 EST To: LIZGERLITS@aol.com Date: Sun, 29 Nov 1998 00:33:57 -0500 Subject: Fw: Cigar History in Tampa Message-ID: <19981129.003400.-73687.2.gearyma@juno.com> X-Mailer: Juno 2.0.11 X-Juno-Att: 0 From: gearyma@juno.com (Mary A Geary) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Found this in the library files from the Tribune and thought you would like to read it. Very interesting. Mary Alice ************************************************************************* BC-CIGARS, SE:,1816 KE: CIGARS DT: 09/25/94 Sunday September 25, 1994 DT: Sunday September 25, 1994 NO: HD: Chance meeting brought cigar boom to Tampa With prosperity came labor disputes and immigrant clashes that made early Tampa a raucous place. BY: JOE HENDERSON SO: Tribune Staff Writer Let your mind wander to a time of tempest and tumult. When the August sun would broil and sweat would soak your shirt to the skin, and only the blades of a fan circling slowly overhead could stir the stifling air. Music from any of several social clubs drifted onto the dusty streets and through the open windows of the many shops where workers from the cigar factories of this growing Southern town went to spend their wages. The sound mixed with the aromatic lure of paella, freshly baked Cuban bread, Italian sauce thick with oregano, and strong, dark coffee. And, of course, from the fine cigars they had rolled by hand. They had it pretty good back then, even though passion and violence were old companions. Men made fortunes, the world was ruled by mobs and bosses, the law danced on the end of a rope and your choice of friends could keep you alive or make you dead. It was Ybor City, a hundred years ago. Less a city than a kaleidoscope of festive colors where Cubans, Italians and Spaniards first tamed the land, then built an industry based upon cigars and fought for its control. They survived strikes, disasters and themselves, which may have been their greatest accomplishment. Ybor City was nothing but cypress, pine and oak trees, rocks and weeds, until 1885. The first car, bought by a cigar baron, did not even appear on its streets until 1900. But by the early 20th century, there were an estimated 250 factories there, staffed by immigrant workers who enjoyed prosperity such as they had never known _ even though that prosperity might have been considered relatively modest. With the money came greed, and with greed came power. Rogues might call it a lively time that foreshadowed some of the outrageous behavior by Tampa politicians and leaders a century later. Less adventuresome souls might call it dangerous. Or worse. Tampa might have remained in isolated subtropical stagnancy for dozens more years had it not been for Gavino Gutierrez and happenstance. Gutierrez was an importer of some repute from New York City, specializing in guava paste and jelly. Supply was difficult, so when an associate told Gutierrez that the area around Tampa Bay was home to acres of mature guava trees, he was intrigued. The place might be a good place for a factory. Gutierrez liked to travel to Key West, which was the capital of the cigar industry in those days, and promised to stop in Tampa on his next trip south. Which he did. There was no guava grove waiting, but the trip nonetheless was rife with serendipity, for Gutierrez enjoyed himself and believed he had discovered a treasure hidden along the Gulf coast. Upon arrival in Key West, he talked glowingly about Tampa and its possibilities to friends and associates among the cigar moguls. Among those who listened that day: Vicente Martinez Ybor. The labor situation was not good in Key West _ strikes, sabotage and disarray were the norm. Ybor was of a mind-set to move his manufacturing plant, as were several other cigar moguls. Places such as Galveston, Mobile and Pensacola had given enticing offers, but the idea of going to Tampa was intriguing. Upon learning of their interest after a July meeting with the Board of Trade in Tampa, the Tribune gushed: ``The benefits that would inure to Tampa from the establishment of such an industry cannot be too deeply impressed upon our citizens.'' By late September, Ybor had secured 40 acres northeast of Tampa proper to build a manufacturing plant. He quickly was joined by the firm of Sanchez & Haya. It was hardly the paradise that Gutierrez had pitched to him. Mosquitoes and insects were everywhere, frogs croaked all night, and the gnats were so thick that workers had to wear goggles or risk eye infections. It did not matter. Tampa's cigar boom was under way. On April 26, 1886, the initial Havana cigars rolled off the line of the Sanchez & Haya plant, the first of two factories that opened that year. The development had the desired effect. A new hotel went up in Ybor City, along with more than 200 homes. Restaurants and shops opened. Jobs were plentiful, wages were good. Maybe it really was the Eden everyone was led to believe. But this wasn't heaven. It was Tampa. Money means power and power was the issue on Jan. 17, 1887. The Knights of Labor, the first union to represent cigar workers here, told their members to walk off the job. Old story: the union wanted more money and the company didn't want to pay. The theme often would be repeated in cigar labor/management relations. And there was another theme: bloodshed. Not all workers chose to be represented by the Knights of Labor. That was the battle line. Ideology was the fuel and violence was the result. The battle field was a pool hall in Ybor City. Inside were union workers and those loyal to the company. There was passion. There was alcohol. There were guns. Shots were fired and five men fell. One died. They buried Manuel F. Martinez and the strike went on. When Tampa and Ybor City flung wide their doors for cigars, however, a few things were understood. Foremost among the unwritten laws was the virtual autonomy with which the cigar industry could act. Tampa had to accept that. Better yet, cooperate. Or, if it was too uncomfortable, look the other way. So no one thought it unusual three weeks after the strike began when Santos Benitez, a union foreman, was told by city officials to leave town. Seventy-five striking workers went with him. The work stoppage was over. For now. Cigar manufacturers were coming to Ybor City, employing nearly 3,000 workers with an annual payroll of almost $2 million. By 1893, more than 88 million cigars were produced at Ybor City factories. It was more than that, however. Cigar money meant growth. Banks opened, land was developed, businesses were established, jobs were created. So it was, perhaps, inevitable when Tampa evolved into a simmering cultural stew, dominated in numbers by Cubans, but with Spaniards and Italians in the sometimes-uneasy mix. Clubs were opened, catering to every facet of life in Ybor City. Centro Espanol was the first, then Centro Asturiano, Circulo Cubano, the Cuban Club, the Italian Club. They were lively places, these ethnic enclaves, where zealous men debated ideas and planned deeds. Little motivation was needed for either. These were proud men, whose honor was their manhood. If challenged, it was an affront to the individual that could not be ignored. So when the bosses installed scales in 1899 to weigh precisely the tobacco being used in cigars, the workers didn't see it as a cost-control device designed to reduce waste. Of course, it probably wasn't. The bosses probably believed the workers were skimming some of the precious tobacco for personal use or, worse, to roll contraband cigars that would sell cheaply on an underground market. But no matter. The workers struck and this time they won. The scales were removed. The harmony did not last long, however. Less than two years later came one of the most dramatic showdowns between workers and the bosses. A new union, named La Resistencia, demanded that Cuesta Rey & Co. close a factory it had in Jacksonville that employed non-union workers. The company refused and on Aug. 5, 1901, workers at several plants in Ybor City walked out in protest. Matters hadn't been settled by late fall so the bosses, with Tampa city officials in full cooperation, cooked up a plan. They had the police and a gang of vigilantes round up 16 leaders of La Resistencia in the middle of the night and put them on a trolley bound for Ballast Point. There they were loaded onto a freighter, the Marie Cooper, which set sail for Honduras. The union leaders were put out on a beach and left to fend for themselves. Among the deportees was the treasurer for La Resistencia Society, whose signature was required on any union checks. Without him, the union's funds were essentially frozen, which brought the society to its knees. Subsequent investigations by local and federal authorities uncovered nothing. There was no outcry from the local media over this, perhaps because D.B. McKay, publisher of The Tampa Times, was one of the conspirators. Either way, the strike was over. Who knows what would have become of Tampa had Gavino Gutierrez gone straight to Key West. Given its location, shipping inlets and weather, Tampa almost certainly would have expanded to its current size and importance with or without cigars. But Tampa, as opposed to its genteel neighbor St. Petersburg, has always been a bit of a brawler, a hustler. It built an image by bending the rules, if necessary. It was situation ethics before its time, and in a sense the rogues, roustabouts and swashbucklers who gave true life to Tampa never left. Take late June, 1910 for instance. Another strike. More complaints about wages; management cut them in order to reduce costs and increase profits. Workers walked out. There were meetings, threats, arguments and stalemates. The governor came to town to intervene and sided with the bosses. Just business as usual. Until J.F. Easterling, a bookkeeper for the Bustillo Brothers & Diaz manufacturers, was murdered as he was leaving work. A pair of Italian men were arrested on suspicion of the crime and were taken to court _ oak limb court. Rather than wait for the sheriff to haul the suspects to the county jail, a mob grabbed the men and dragged them toward a nearby oak grove off Howard Avenue near West Tampa where they were hanged. A grand jury later said it had no positive identifications of anyone in the mob and refused to indict anyone. By early the next year, the union strike fund ran dry and the walkout ended. But Tampa had a heritage that would last a lifetime. AI: Sources: ``River of the Golden Ibis'' by Gloria Jahoda; ``Tampa'' by Karl H. Grismer. IT: (4) At its height, the cigar industry had about 250 factories in Tampa, West Tampa and Ybor City. At right are some examples of cigar labels. FILED: CIGAR FACTORIES IT: A mob lynched two men after they were charged with killing a cigar factory bookkeeper in 1910. The men were hanged from an oak tree on Howard Avenue. Tampa's earlier years were marked by frequent acts of vigilante violence. FILED: HANGINGS EH: TAMPA HISTORY CIGAR INDUSTRY TPH SANCHEZ HAYA YBOR CITY DEVELOPMENT FIRST LA RESISTENCIA SOCIETY LABOR STRIKE VIOLENCE UNUSUAL DISCIPLINE TRIBUNE CENTENNIAL TAMPA-03-20-95 1305EDT ___________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ________________________________________________________________ Why pay more to use the Internet? Get fast, reliable, affordable Web access from Juno, the world's second largest online service. 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