DAY 7
MAY 11, 1962
CAMP MATECUMBE; about 10:30am.
-“Oye, mira chico, anoche llegaron mas novatos…” I heard a voice scream, “Look here, there were some more newbies coming in last night” It was a voice I would come to know. El Negüe, big mulatto guy who was all bravado, but about as friendly a guy as you could get to know. Once you got past the bluff.
I guess that, traditionally, there was a welcome “party” for any one who came in new. However, this time there were several of us in the just arrived group, and a few who were bigger than most. And, not knowing yet the truly friendly reality of the camp, we made it clear that we would stick by each other.
Once this fact was established, we were welcomed in a most normal way with each one of us getting a personal “tour” guide to show us the main areas, where our lives would develop into the foreseeable future.
Camp Matecumbe had been a Boy Scout camp which was put to the service of the catholic welfare system, in what were then the Everglade limits. Its present function, like that of all the dormitory camps, was to be a staging area. Most of the children who came through, would stay until a relative (or parents) could claim them. In the event this claim could not be forthcoming, as was the case in too many instances, then the offices in Miami would place the children in foster homes throughout the country. Some would be in the Miami area and some would be as far away as Washington State (as would be in my case). By estimate, although I am sure there are complete records, some 9,000 - 10,000 children were placed in foster homes during the Peter Pan operation.
In a central area, there were several log cabins and tents. The log cabins were the original buildings; some were now dormitories, but also the “clinic”, the dining room/kitchen, infirmary and the main office were using up log cabin space. Since the original camp was meant to hold up to 200 children and we were, at this time, some 400 people living in the camp, the tents were a necessity. In fact, about 60% of the then current population was living in the tents. These were big and relatively comfortable tents, holding each about 8 double bunks (up/down) or 16 people, along with room for a metal cabinet alongside each bunk, for the corresponding clothes and personal hygiene accessories of the people on the two bunks (army barracks style). Oh, yes, several of the tents had “pets”, ranging from snakes to wildcats. Did I mention that we were right next to the Everglades?
Camp Matecumbe was fairly isolated back then. During my stay, two good size concrete buildings went up in order to accommodate a further increase of constantly incoming guests, and to have a larger, more comfortable dining room where meals could be served in two shifts, instead of four. This was important, especially when the number of children went as high as 550, plus all the personnel to care for them. Despite the ongoing efforts to reunite children with families or to place them with foster homes throughout the US, the incoming tide was more than the outgoing trickle.
Today, those buildings are all that is left of the original camp. Most of what used to be our playground is now part of the Tamiami Airport landing strip, right in the South West heart of Kendall.
To many who were in camps which were located in more urbane areas, Matecumbe was “the boonies”, the swampland. To us, it became home. Those of us who were there for more than 4 months developed a bond not only with each other, but with the camp. It became our Identity and the people I met there became my family and I, theirs. Camp Matecumbe would become, in the lore and amongst those of us who stayed there as a pass through home, an indelible part of our life which will stay with us until the end of our days.
But this was yet to come. Today was a first day for a very confused 15 year old, entering into a new life, a new culture, a new world. That would be enough to concentrate on at the moment.
From a small town in the middle of Cuba, and from being part of a fairly close family, to a swamp based camp in the middle of the Everglades, in the midst of strangers.
Indeed, what a week!
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