Her days as a child were spaced by prayers that were done three times a day: at sunrise, noon and in the evening time. The life of families was concentrated around the church and religious obligations. Flowers Bay had Methodist, Baptist and Evangelical churches.

Little Dellis learned how to read, write and mathematics from Ebenezer Johnson, a schoolteacher who taught in Flowers Bay using English Royal Readers. Little Dellis completed knowledge of all six Royal Readers books.

The discipline in school was important and occasionally the teacher whipped unruly students. Mrs. Dellis remembers an April fool’s day where one of her companions “pinned a tail” on the back of the teacher and was punished. Another April fools day mischief involved taking a “note” to a faraway place.

In the 1930s, the Honduran government built a school on the point in Flowers Bay. The September of 1941 hurricane destroyed it completely. Mrs. Dellis remembers that “Nicaraguan Hurricane” well. The storm came without warning and brought high winds and a quickly rising tide endangering most of the Flowers Bay homes that were built very close to shore. “We were running in the rain, cold. We were frightened and hungry,” says Mrs. Dellis. When her family arrived at a home that was up the hill, they found it was already filled with fleeing neighbors.

Made flower arrangements for weddings.

Mrs. Dellis spent several years with her grandmother in Los Planes, a Standard Fruit community on the Cangrejal river outside of La Ceiba. She learned Spanish while studying at the local school there. In 1930s and 40s many islanders left to pursue jobs with banana companies on the mainland.

In 1950, at 21 Mrs. Dellis married Oliver Cromwell Bodden, a seaman from Flowers Bay. Mrs. Oliver worked on “The Daydream,” aboat that carried cargo between Roatan and Grand Cayman, Louisiana and Florida.

For several years the couple rented homes, but finally purchased a house lot in Flowers Bay. While taking care of the house Mrs. Dellis planted flowers and made flower arrangements for weddings and birthday bouquets. On Sundays she would sing hymns and recite bible verses at the Baptist church she joined. The couple had five boys and one girl.

In her ninth decade, Mrs. Dellis is very active and energetic. She spends her time visiting family and tending to her flower garden. She lives with her son in beautiful seashore home in Pensacola area of Flowers Bay.

The “Cuero y Salado” National Park with a View of Utila

The Cuero y Salado National Park is located 10 kilometers west of La Ceiba, along the coastline facing Utila and Roatan. Designated as a protected area in 1987, the Foundation of Cuero y Salado was established in 1989. The park spans 32,700 acres and features a diverse range of ecosystems, including forests, grasslands, mangroves, beaches, and sandbars. The Cuero River winds through the park before emptying into the Caribbean Sea, and it also branches off into multiple water channels that serve as habitats for manatees.

The measures taken by the Honduran government in 2020 and 2021 to protect its citizens from the COVID-19 virus have had some unintended consequences for the park. The lockdowns led to the closure of the Cuero y Salado tourist train, which now sits abandoned behind a fence in La Unión. Previously, this simple but reliable train would depart for the park entrance at 7 a.m., 9 a.m., and 11 a.m. daily.

“La Burra” remains the only way to reach the Cuero y Salado.

Visitor numbers to the park have dwindled significantly. There is no signage directing people to the park from the main highway near La Unión. Two communities are situated near the park, and residents use motorcycles or burros to bring in supplies from the nearby town of La Union. As of mid-2023, the only way to reach the Cuero y Salado station for locals is via a narrow path running parallel to the former train tracks, which is just wide enough for a motorcycle or bicycle.

For visitors, “La Burra” remains the only way to reach the Cuero y Salado station. As primitive as railway transport can get, “La Burra” consists of a wooden platform set on two train axles, which themselves rest on wooden planks. The vehicle is propelled by a person riding a motorcycle, who pushes it along with one foot.

The burras are privately owned. For Lps. 700, a local individual propels the burra the 7-8 kilometers using a 125 Genesis motorcycle. The metal narrow-gauge train tracks are worn, and their spacing varies. The vibration of metal on metal reverberates through the passengers’ backs as they travel.

As the burra approaches a small bridge, the motorcycle rider gives it an extra push, allowing it to coast across to the other side. The century-old narrow-gauge train track winds through cow pastures and fields for several kilometers before reaching the station, which serves as the tourist departure point for the park.

At the end of the train line lies the small village of Salado Barra, where residents are descendants of workers from the Standard Fruit Company. The community features old wooden houses built on stilts. There is a school, as well as the headquarters of the Cuero y Salado Park, which serves as the departure point for boat tours into the park.

Motorboats can be hired for two or four hours, accompanied by a guide knowledgeable about the flora and fauna of the trees and forests surrounding the waters.

The park’s biggest attraction is the bashful manatees, which are also the most difficult to spot. These shy creatures are most often seen during early morning boat rides. “Last year, one manatee was found dead, likely from natural causes, as no cuts or impacts were found,” says the guide. “It took 20 men to pull it ashore. It was examined and then buried.”

The crocodiles are nearly as elusive as the manatees, but they are more numerous and can often be seen with their heads above the water’s surface, even at midday. The crocodiles lay their eggs on the sandy islands that separate the park from the sea.

Hundreds of crocodiles reside within the park’s boundaries, and their red eyes can be spotted just above the water’s surface during nighttime tours. The shy American Crocodile, which can grow up to 20 feet long, is sometimes seen basking in the sun on the sand. In 2023, the first-ever recorded attack on a human by a crocodile occurred in Cuero y Salado. A person was hunting a crocodile with a harpoon when the reptile acted in self-defense, slashing the man’s leg open. This unprecedented attack baffled many as crocodiles usually stick to a diet of fish and feed at night, avoiding humans unless provoked.

Giant white mangroves tower over the canals, reaching heights of up to 40 meters. Red mangroves are smaller and line the narrower branches of the canals. Coco lobo trees and coconut palms also manage to thrive along the water’s edge.

Large trees serve as vantage points for dozens of bird species attracted to the brackish water of Cuero y Salado. The loudest bird calls come from the omnivorous Montezuma Oropendolas, which can be heard and seen living in hanging woven nest colonies on large trees adjacent to the mangroves. These striking birds produce loud “cack” and “crrrk” calls.

Several families of Howler monkeys, consisting of 10 to 20 individuals each, spend their days foraging for fruit or simply resting. Their only natural predator is the jaguar, whose tracks have not been seen in the park for many years. White-faced monkeys can also be observed in the park.

Several families of Howler monkeys, consisting of 10 to 20 individuals each, spend their days foraging for fruit or simply resting. Their only natural predator is the jaguar, whose tracks have not been seen in the park for many years. White-faced monkeys can also be observed in the park.

Another community located in the park is Boca Cerrada, which is much more remote and situated on the banks of Thompson Lagoon on the west side of the park. Although Cuero y Salado has fallen somewhat into disrepair, the animals inhabiting the park don’t seem to mind.

“Life was great back then,” remembers Mr. Austin nostalgically. “My first memory is of playing maypole and playing baseball on the same spot where the baseball field now is.”
Little Austin received little basic education on Utila and as a teenager he was sent to a high school run by Jamaicans in San Francisco ‘Frisco,’ Colón. The mainland school had an island flair as it employed teachers from Roatan and Bonacca. Mr. Austin graduated with a diploma and soon was offered a job at the United Fruit Company.

He was there for four years, graduated with a degree and was soon working as a “timekeeper” for United Fruit Company in La Lima, Cortés. His boss was the infamous Walter Turnbull, of the United Fruit Company. Mr. Austin decided to increase the pay rate of the workers from 19 to 20 Lempiras, he said Turnbull was furious. “He shouted: “Boys you cannot do that,” says Mr. Austin.

He lasted two years until the general strikes of 1954. The civil disorder began when President Juan Manuel Gálvez proposed a national eight hour workday and extra pay for work on holidays. The workers labor strike first began in Tela in April of 1954 then spread to the docks of Puerto Cortés. The protests eventually halted 25,000 of the company’s workers in Honduras and 15,000 workers from Standard Fruit. After 69 days the strike was resolved with increased pay and recognition of labor unions.

Mr. Austin eventually married Jane Bodden, an Utilan, but was hardly home. The absentee marriage never really worked, and Mrs. Jane moved to Miami.

He landed a passage on a boat heading to the US from Tela. Mr. Austin started working on “five hatcher ship” running passengers and cargo between Florida and Brazil, Buenos Aires and Tierra del Fuego. “I had 22 birthdays in Tierra del Fuego,” says Mr. Austin. He worked on the ship as AB (able seaman) sailor until 1976.

In 1959 his ship was docked in Havana harbor when the Cuban Revolution broke out. Castros “Barberos” were entering Havana and Mr. Austin found himself in a middle of a shootout. “There were bullets flying everywhere,” remembers Mr. Austin. “We hid under the bed of the hotel than sneak out back to the ship.” To give him a better chance at reaching safety Mr. Austin dressed up in woman’s shawl.

I am most proud of my children.

When he finally returned to Honduras, he found work at a cattle farm in Limoncito, Colón. After two years he arrived with 62 heads of cattle on Utila. He married and ended up having nine children.
“The bible says honor your father and your mother,” says Mr. Austin pensively. He has a wrinkled, white skin and deeply set-in eyes. “I am most proud of my children,” says Mr. Austin. “I have nothing to regret.”

The primary targets for German navy were oil and petroleum routes from Trinidad, Venezuela and the Dutch islands. Almost as important were the cargo vessels hauling bauxite from Jamaica and the Guyanas to be used in the manufacture of aluminum. Thus the battle of the Caribbean began. After the fall of France in 1940, Germany and Italy based most of their submarine fleet on the island of Martinique. Not wishing to provoke the United States into entering the war, the Axis left the American banana boats alone.

Using the Honduran ports of Puerto Castilla and La Ceiba as supply dumps, Nazi agents began bribing workers from United Fruit and Standard Fruit, into providing the Germans with bootleg diesel siphoned from tractors, field generators, and other equipment. Germans were keen on supplying their mariners with fruit, liquor, beer, water, and other contraband merchandise. These would be surreptitiously loaded onto barges which would rendezvous with the U-boats in between the mainland and the Bay Islands.

Germany and Italy based most
of their submarine fleet

on the island of Martinique.

This illicit commerce ended when US entered the war in December 1941, declaring war on Japan on December 11 Germany and Italy declared war on the US in response. Honduras followed suit and declared war on Germany and Italy on December 12. A blacklist of the 510 documented Germans living in Honduras had been compiled by US intelligence.

These “undesirable aliens” were arrested, and their businesses and properties confiscated. These Germans were taken from their Honduran families and deported to internment camps in Texas. The men were sent to a 22-acre compound called Camp Kennedy and the women and children relocated to another camp called Crystal City.

A total of around 4,500 Germans from all over South and Central America would pass through these camps during the war.
Though many would be repatriated to Germany in exchange for seriously wounded American military personnel, many Honduran Germans would remain until late 1946, after the war’s end, returning to find their homes and businesses in ruins and unable to claim any reparations. To say that the German population of Honduras was inconvenienced during World War II would be a major understatement.

Annie Bodden Looks Back at Her Adventurous Life

Mrs. Annie was the oldest of 10 children. John Alons Bodden was her father, her grandmother was Hester Diamond Flynn and her Grandfather was Hester Diamondy Flynn. “We were all family: happy, jolly people,” remembers the 1930s Mrs. Annie. “The people were poor. The clothes you had to sew them yourselves. Everybody walked, or rode horses.”

The island education was basic, but solid and provided a great starting point to a person’s life. “I was told never to forget it: “there are five things to remember. To whom you speak. How you speak. When you speak. Where you speak. What you speak,” remembers her school days Mrs. Annie.

Her subjects were taught by a Belizean. “[Honduran] government didn’t want any English to be taught here,” remembers the 1930s Mrs. Annie. Until the sixth grade the education was all in Spanish and taught by mainland school teachers and there were a few Spanish workers who migrated to the island. Utila counted around 300 souls who spoke and thought in English.

“It almost blew the house down. We were scared to death.”

Mrs. Annie ended up meeting her husband when she was 21. A letter correspondence followed, and the relationship blossomed. “There was no kissing, no courting,” remembers Mrs. Annie. Finally, a marriage date was set for December 30, 1949.

Her husband was US Navy World War two veterans. He was a mechanic and moved to Honduras to work for the Standard Fruit Company as a head mechanic in their “Taller” – workshop. “He was the first Hand radio operator in Honduras,” Mrs. Annie remembers her husband.

Life was simple, and nature was a big part of it. Sometime the biggest part. “It almost blew the house down. We were scared to death,” Mrs. Annie remembers the 1955 hurricane. “The walls were cracking. But the good God has helped us.”

The couple had three children: two boys and a girl. They moved as Standard Fruit Company required her husband’s skills all over Honduras’ northern coast. Mrs. Annie spent seven years in Coyoles, another nine years in La Ceiba and 14 years in San Pedro Sula.

Today Mrs. Annie lives in a modest one-story home in Utila Town. A photo of her great-great grandmother: Merceta Ann Werner, who came to Utila from England via Belize, hangs on a wall less than a foot from a well. That well, part of the sitting room is vital to many homes around her. It’s PVC tubing supplies water to a dozen of nearby homes.

“I am a peaceful person raised in a Christian home,” says Mrs. Annie as she sits in her armchair gazing and smiling out onto a quiet Utila street.

Every year, on his birthday, his family comes together from as far as the US to celebrate the special day. “By the help of the Lord I’ve lived this long. Every year the children have a birthday party for me with cake and ice cream,” Mr. Victor says with a subtle smile. “I can’t get to them, so they have to come to me.”

Since suffering a fall that fractured his hip five years ago, an injury on which the doctors were reluctant to treat with surgery because of the possible side effects of the anesthesia on a man of his age, and for which they instead recommended bed rest; Mr. Jones has been bedridden ever since.

Prior to the hip fracture, Mr. Victor was up and about and took care of himself. “He was able to support himself besides cooking,” said his daughter Verne Jones who has left her job in the US to help take care of her dad. “My sister Linda would spend the night,” she said. A house worker, who has been with the family for years, would do the cooking.

The eldest of four children born to Gustave and Lena Jones, and the only one still alive, Mr. Jones was an example his younger siblings. “I never gambled, smoked or drank alcohol, but I loved to hunt for rabbits and deer and loved to fish,” he remembers.

Mr. Victor does not speak much Spanish because while he was growing up “The teacher would come from the mainland, stay for a few months and leave never to return,” he said. Mr. Victor did receive English lessons however, and one of his teachers was Mabel Bennett of Flowers Bay.

Alert and sound of mind, Mr. Jones can recall incidents that happened when he was a child such as a story he related to his late daughter, Linda, five years ago. He told of a church bell that was donated to the Bethany Methodist Church in Jonesville Point and was later thrown into a pond during an altercation between locals at the school house where it had been stored for safekeeping after the church had been leveled by a hurricane. The bell was never recovered.

Some of Mr. Jones’s fondest memories, as a child, come from the time he spent on the family farm with his father who was a farmer and kept a few cows and hogs and grew enough provision of plantains, bananas and other fruits and vegetables to feed his family.

Some of his not so fond memories include the difficulties of traveling from one area of the island to another: “I remember when you wanted to get to French Harbor; you had to paddle or walk to get there.”

I never gambled, smoked or drank alcohol, but I loved to hunt for rabbits and deer.

Mr. Victor, who worked as a seaman, started his career at the age of 16 with the Standard Fruit Company and worked on a ship that belonged to Joe Gough of Oak Ridge. The ship ran from Belize to Tampa Florida, delivering bananas. As a seaman, Mr. Jones has traveled around the world twice and favors the country of Singapore amongst all the places he has visited.

Working as a seaman during World War II was scary, he recalls, “we had to sleep under the lifeboats, which was hard to do because of the discharge going of all hours of the night,” he said.

The end of the war was welcoming news for the seaman who would spend months on the sea before going home to spend a few months with his family. “We were coming out of Tampa when the War started and we were passing through the Panama Canal when it ended,” he said. “Passing through the canal we heard the celebration; guns going off and ships blowing their horns and when the pilot came aboard to take us through, he told us that the war was over”, he remembers.

Like for most islanders of his generation, country and western was Mr. Jones favorite kind of music to dance and listen to. “We used to kick-up our heels every now and then at the Miramar club in Pandy Town,” he says. “I loved all the country singers, but my favorite was Earnest Tubb.”

Mr. Victor was married to Ema Midence of West End for 62 years and they had five children, of which three are still alive. Mrs. Jones has been deceased for 24 years, but Mr. Jones still remembers the first time he saw the 17-year-old doing her chores. It was the day he fell in love.

He is the grandfather of 11 and great-grandfather of 15, still live in the home where he lived with his wife from 1942 until the day she died, and where they raised their children.

Mr. Nelson Has Wisdom for All Ages

According to family records, Joseph Cromwell Jackson, Nelson’s grandfather and the founder of the Jackson families on Roatan came from Charleston, South Carolina just after the Civil War. One can sense the history looking into the eyes of Mr. Nelson. He is weathered, but nimble and he is full of energy.

At age ten, young Nelson started attending a local one-room school in French Cay run by Mrs. Minor Woods. She used “The Royal Readers” set of schoolbooks to teach the local children basic skills in reading and writing. “Who really taught me how to read and write was Mrs. Ora Webster,” remembers Mr. Nelson. Young Nelson only attended three grades of schooling, but “This is equivalent of what you get at graduation today.”

There were manatees living all over Roatan feeding on turtle grass

While most French Cay people gathered fresh water to drink from rooftops, when there was no rain, they had to walk a kilometer to the gully to fetch water. “We had a lot of hard work we were doing. We were very poor,” Mr. Nelson recalls about life in the 1930s. The only food stuffs brought in from the mainland was rice and people would gather coconuts to sell to La Ceiba where Standard Fruit Company reigned supreme. “We got [US] 60 cents for every 100 coconuts,” he remembers.

The island was full of large mammals: deer and sea cows were all around. There were manatees living all over Roatan feeding on turtle grass. “There was one living around Fantasy Island and another one by Jonesville,” remembers Mr. Nelson. “He nearly turned one boat over.”

In the 1940s there were two houses on the Little French Cay, five on the Big French Cay and five on Roatan proper across from the cays. There were just a handful of families living here: the Jacksons, Johnsons, Dixons, Woods and Lowells. In 1941 Mr. Nelson said goodbye to his older brother Roswell Jackson who enlisted in US navy and went off to fight the Germans in World War II. Young Nelson was too young and stayed behind. He only listened to the stories of his brother’s adventures on the beaches of Normandy.

At 22 Mr. Nelson married Nelly Dixon and devoted his time to farming and raising cattle. The couple had 11 children. In 1961 he went off to work on a tugboat in Jacksonville, Florida. He would go back and forth between his family and US for seven long years. Eventually he came back to Roatan and farmed some more. In 1971 Mr. Nelson picked another contract to run a boat between Palm Beach and the Bahamas.

After returning to the island Mr. Nelson for 33 years worked with Seth Arch at the French harbor dry dock as the dry dock supervisor. Mr. Nelson has a spiritual attitude about his long life. “[I live] with the mercy and the blessing of the Lord. Without Him you couldn’t live,” says Mr. Nelson.

Today Mr. Neslon is a valued family patriarch. He still farms and raises cattle on his French Cay property. He also cultivates banana plants, plantains, watermelon, tomatoes, beans, yams, cassavas, chickens. Mr. Nelson also looks after his 90 foot shrimp fishing boat ‘Cabo II’ and always ready to chat about the past.

Mrs. Avis at her home in Oak Ridge.

Mrs. Avis is a Treasure of Memories and an Example

She was born on October 6, 1917 on Cayman Island to Amy Bodden, a Cayman Islander, and Walturner Bodden, a Rotanian seaman. Mr. ‘Turner’, as he was known, worked on a freight boat that sailed between Roatan and Belize. He was also a freezer keeper with the Standard Fruit Company, traveling on a cargo boat from Honduras to the US.

Mrs. Avis Morgan Bodden is absolutely clear of mind and remembers growing up in Bodden Bight in 1920s. She recalls paddling in a dory to Oak Ridge because there were no roads back then. “We had to paddle from Jonesville to Oak Ridge”, she recalls, “and after a while, Mrs. Oswald Ebanks build a road from Jonesville to Oak Ridge.” Mrs. Bodden also remembers participating in children games such as skipping rope, and even remembers Miss Betty, her English teacher from England.

She raised us with the fear of good and she made sure we went to school and to church

Mr. Ogilvie Norman, a young Roatanian seaman fell so in love with young Miss Avis that he followed her to Belize, where she moved with her mother when she was in her early 20s. They were wed in there and lived in Belize for some time before moving to Rose Hall, now the location of Parrot Tree Plantation. There they raised their six children; three boys and three girls, including a set of twins.

Over the years, Mrs. Bodden has lived in La Ceiba, Puerto Cortez, Belize, and Louisiana, where she lived for 25 years before returning to Roatan in 2011. She moved to United States to live with her daughter Dorothy after the passing of her husband in the mid 1990s. It’s impossible to live a hundred plus years and not experience loss. Besides losing her sister Dorothy who died as a child, Mrs. Bodden also lost a son who died at the age of 17 and another who died in a plane crash in Tegucigalpa. In all, she has buried four of her six children. Her living children are her second born daughter Mrs. Claire Mejia, 78, and her third-born daughter, Dorothy, 70, who is one half of a set of twins.

As a practicing Seventh Day Adventist, Mrs. Avis Norman Bodden believes strongly in the teachings of the Bible. “If you want to be a pilot, you study the Bible, and if you want to be a police officer you study the Bible,” she says. “She was a good mother, but she was strict. She raised us with the fear of God and she made sure we went to school and to church” says her daughter Claire, with whom she’s been living since returning from the USA in 2011.

Other than some hearing impairment and a little problem with her blood pressure, Mrs. Norman Bodden is in perfect health. Her daily prescribed medications consist of her blood pressure medications and vitamins. Though she wears prescription glasses, she seems to see perfectly as she sits in front of a television set watching a religious program. “I have some old glasses but they are right there,” she says, pointing to a shelf near the television set. “I don’t need them,”

Mrs. Norman Bodden loves her daily routine. She is not an early riser, she wakes up around 9 am and at 11:00 am, showers, dresses, and combs her hair before having her breakfast. “I bathe myself, comb my hair and put on my own clothes”, she says with pride and confidence. According to one of two sitters who assist her to prevent any fall while her daughter Claire is busy running her own business in downtown Oak Ridge, she would get in the kitchen and cook, if allowed.

Despite her age, Mrs. Avis Norman Bodden, mother of 6, grandmother of 9 and great-grandmother of 10 is healthy, strong and optimistic about life “God got me here for some reason,” she says with a smile.

Mrs. Avis’ wedding band from 1930s.

Oranges and lemons were first introduced to Central America by the Spanish around 1550, then came coconuts in 1559 by way of the Cape Verde islands. The Paya name for coconuts is “koko ka” borrowed from the Spanish word “cocos”. Although plantains were indigenous to the New World, the much prized sweet version, the Gros Michel, or Big Mike, was first brought to the islands in 1835 from Martinique, where it was first propagated.

Both the United Fruit Company, and the Vacarro Brothers Fruit Company (renamed Standard Fruit in 1924), were founded in 1899 in Boston and New Orleans respectively .While United decided to start business in Tela and Trujillo on the mainland, the Vacarros chose Roatan, buying shipments of coconuts that also included mixed citrus fruits and bananas with between 100,000 and 200,000 coconuts being shipped per voyage. In September 1899, the Vaccaros sent their cousin, Salvador D’Antoni, on their first boat, a creaky, two mast sailing schooner called the Santo Oteri, to Roatan. Its namesake had been the first banana man in Honduras, before being bought out by United.

Islanders knew nothing about soil rotation and the need of large quantities of nitrogen

The fledgling banana industry reaped huge profits of up to 1000% for those involved. Despite being ravaged by a major hurricane in 1877, Roatan’s banana production was in full bloom when the visiting US Consul, Richard Burchard, wrote in 1884 that almost every hectare of cultivable soil on the island was planted with bananas. He noted that a four hectare parcel of land could be purchased for $250. The only equipment needed was a machete for clearing brush, weeding, and cutting the fruit, and a sharpened stick for planting the seeds. A small farm of 3,000 plants could expect a profit of $1,500 the first year and from $3,000 to $5,000 in successive years. This was big money at the time.

D’Antoni’s chief contact on the island was an Englishman called Bill Collins, who taught him the rudiments of banana selection and grading. The main collection and purchasing agents were Sam and Bessie Warren of Coxen Hole. Everything ran well for five years and for faster deliveries the Vacarros started chartering Norwegian flagged steamers. Unfortunately, the islanders knew nothing about soil rotation and the need of large quantities of nitrogen to fertilize the plants. The quality and size of the fruit started to decline, and in1904 Collins persuaded D’Antoni to shift the entire operation to the mainland.

It was first proposed to build the company headquarters at El Porvenir, but when the teetotal mayor of the town heard that it would be the hub for a railway, he vetoed the idea on account of the fact that it would bring alcohol and other vices to the town. Instead of El Porvenir becoming “La Bella Novia de Honduras,” (the beautiful bride of Honduras) the honor went to La Ceiba. Things progressed well, until 1910, when President Davilla imposed a 5 cent per stem tax on bananas and a 2 cent tax on imported railway equipment. This incensed the United Fruit Company who, in cahoots with former President Manuel Bonilla, devised a plot backed by $500,000 to overthrow Davilla. Over one hundred mercenaries assembled in New Orleans and sailed in the steamboat ‘The Hornet’ in December 1910 in order to topple the government. Their first target was Coxen Hole, Roatan. [To Be Continued…]

Mrs. Jessie Cooper on her porch of her Oak Ridge home.

Mrs. Jessie Cooper Preserves the Collective Memory of Oak Ridge

While families and friends helped each other out, the only Hondurans she ever encountered were the teachers at the Francisco Morazan School in Oak Ridge. “I didn’t want to learn Spanish and I still don’t,” says Mrs. Cooper. Oak Ridge had no roads, there was no police, no tax men, no Honduran military. “My father’s family wouldn’t allow Spaniards to land here until the 1950s,” recalls Ms. Cooper.

“Every Wednesday we would do embroidery and every Saturday there would be a dance. There was music everywhere,” recalls Mrs. Cooper.”Music is what I miss the most.” When she was 16, Mr. Hugh Parry, from England gave her a Brownie camera. The young girl put the camera to good use documenting happenings on the Cay.

She remembers an American seaplane that landed in Oak Ridge in 1942 investigating reports of islanders selling fuel to German U-boats. “They came in very low, skimmed and landed in the mangroves. People pulled them out,” remembers Mrs. Cooper, “the boat was so heavy and stuck in the mangroves so deep it had to drop a bomb in the 4-5 feet of water for it to be freed.” A PT boat, torpedo-armed fast attack craft, from an American Naval base at Puerto Castilla soon came to help. Mrs. Cooper remembers a serviceman who then agreed to fly on top of the wing in order balance the plane. “He fell in the water as the plane was launching. He got bruised up,” says Mrs. Cooper who documented the entire episode with her camera. After that came the occasional, but memorable visits by American officers stationed in Puerto Castilla.

While there was no rationing, food supplies were short. “We used to make war cake: no eggs and no butter,” Mrs. Cooper remembers. Coopers owned land from Jonesville to Diamond Rock and people would bring her vegetables, fruits. “It was a sharecropping system.” There was very little money circulating back in these days. One coin that was in use was a metal “Cooper coin” that the family had to be redeemed at their stores. The Cooper’s farm produced many fruits, vegetables and had cows, pigs, chickens and deer.

Life on the island, away from urban areas and many advantages of technology and medicine brought hardships as well. “I was eight months pregnant and had to go to La Ceiba,” remembers Ms. Cooper. Coming on the Edith-Mac boat from Coxen Hole to the coast was an all night affair. The boat transported cattle, cargo and people. “I had to lie down on dock on two Coca-Cola cases,” remembers the Mrs. Cooper, reflecting on the arduous passage.

Married for 21 years to Mr. James Cooper she had three children: Larry, Walton and Alana. Today Mrs. Jessie is a happy nonagenarian who loves spending time with her daughter Alana. She is energetic, fit and full optimism.

Mrs. Jessie Cooper with younger sister in 1930’s.