DIRTY

FAMILY
SECRETS
By Steven Donnini

Copyrights 2010

Steven Donnini
In Miami’s Little Havana there are many small

stores that carry exotic oils, which are used in

offerings to Orishas (Gods). Most Santeria

believers are Cuban, Puerto Rican or Haitian.

Victor Dela Campa Hernandez Valdez Castro, is a

Haitian illegal alien from Porto Prince. They name

their children after their lineage. In 1998, he

managed to tie several truck tire inner-tubes

together to create a rubber raft for his journey to

Florida. After 8 days at sea with his 15 year old

brother Hector, they washed ashore on Marathon

Island in the Florida Keys. They walked north to

the rich farmlands of Homestead where they found

work picking lettuce, watermelons and squash.

Victor is a clever man who has many skills like

welding, pluming and laying tile.

Victor’s life changed when he met 25 year old Gusty

Twombly. They were eating sandwich’s at the El

Gallito bar in Little Havana while watching CNN

Cable TV news when a segment about Fidel Castro

played.

Announcer: Doctor says, Castro healthy enough to

live till 140 years old.

Cuban President Fidel Castro, enjoys vibrant health

and will live to 140, his chief doctor said.

Doctor Eugenio Selman-Housein, who heads Castro's

medical team, denied that the longtime leader has

Parkinson's disease, as the CIA reportedly

believes.

"Every day they invent a new one," Selman-Housein

said.

"He will live 140 years."

Castro's health, once a taboo subject in the

communist-led island, has become a topic of

discussion since he fainted in public in 2001 and

slipped and fell before television cameras in

October 2004.

Castro, who quit smoking his trademark cigars in

1986, has led Cuba since 1959.

Victor went into a rant over the prospect that so

many Cuban’s would be trapped in the Castro

political nightmare until he dies at 104. Many

customers in the bar agreed. However, Gusty

Twombly ever the optimist said, “Look at it this

way, when has a 104 year old man been able to tell

anyone what to do?” Victor replies, “Yeah, what’s

he gonna do, chock on a chicken wing?”

Throughout her life Gusty was just plain lucky. A

few years back when people in Florida decided to

tear out old moldy carpeting and replace it with

tile, Gusty was there with a crews of skilled

workers. Everything she did worked out exactly as

she planned. Now she owns the largest tile

business in Orlando. Victor has just met his meal

ticket.

Gusty’s mother Alberta Twombly was a practicing

Santeria priestess and practitioner who had

immigrated from Cuba in the 1960’s. Her skills are

well known to the James clan of Central Florida

since she lived in the James home and attended to

the reclusive Vivian James during her many bouts

with depression and Migraine headaches. Alberta

was viewed by others in Haines City, Florida as a

witch doctor with extraordinary healing powers.

Her only child Gusty was blessed with good fortune

from birth. Some think this was the handy work of

Alberta Twombly and her Santeria ceremonies.

Santeria has been in existence since the first

slaves came to the Caribbean Islands from West

Africa. The religion is a blend of Catholicism and

West African Tribal Spiritual beliefs.

However, Santeria practices are not unique to the

Caribbean Islands. Today the largest groups of

Santeria followers in the USA are in New York City

and South Florida.

Santeria is not a written theology, so there’s no

bible or scrolls. It is passed on by word of mouth

by devotees and priests.

Before the James brothers were conceived, Dr.

James and Mrs. James visited Havana, Cuba where

they met Alberta Twombly who was working in their

hotel as a chamber maid. Vivian and Alberta became

fast friends. Vivian was having difficulty

conceiving and all the known remedies of the time

were exhausted. Alberta knew a Santeria fertility

ceremony that would give her children. When the

James couple returned to Haines City, Vivian was

pregnant with twins. Before the birth Vivian made

arrangements to bring Alberta to Florida. She

never returned to Cuba.

When the boys were small she would work around the

James home watching after them. She would tell

them bedtime stories like this one.

The Wind & the Rainbow

Elegbara, aye-o, Elegbara, aye-o, Elegbara, madupe,

Elegbara Wonfa nyem, listen and hear, and remember.

Listen my children to the tale of Oya, and her

children the colors of the rainbow, a tale of

questions and answers, sacrifice and healing,

friendship, and trust renewed.

Hear the tale of Oya, come weary to the bone from a

long hunt to her home by the black waters of the

Niger. There her children are being raised by

Osayin, the herbalist, and taught the ways of the

woods. She clothes them in purple, and calls each

by a secret name, but they see her seldom, she

stays but a few days, and leaves the mothering to

the old healer.

One day she does not return, the children go

hungry, and Osayin is worried. He turns to Elegwa,

who watches everything, and asks where she may have

gone.

To the East Elegwa goes searching, far beyond the

borders of the land, but though he searches far, he

finds only tall grasses waving in the breeze, and

tracks of the water buffalo.

To the West Osayin, himself, continues searching,

far into the mountains of the Cameroon, and from a

high place he seems to see her dancing, but when he

gets to the plain, it is a flock of wild birds

covering the seashore and the remains of a great

catch of fish.
To the South, he sends Ochosi, the tracker, who

often finds traces when no one can see the way.

Ochosi goes hunting, seeking through the jungle,

and though Ochosi is able to find traces of her

journey and people who have seen her, they tell him

she has gone north to the country of her people.

And so the three friends return to the village,

each having journeyed and returned disheartened.

The villagers are hungry and they do not know what

to do as the harvest has been poor. The three

counselors do not know what to do but are fearful

of leaving the children without their mother, so

packing their belongings, they take the children

with them.

To the North, then, Elegwa, Ochosi, and Osayin go

journeying with the nine children until they come

to the hut of Orunmilla, the seer. He greets them,

"I have been expecting you, the Fool, the Bow, the
Reed. I have seen you for many days in my shells,

for you come to bring home the harvest."

"What" speaks Elegwa, "I know no such harvest, I

seek only my friend Oya, whose children miss her."

"It is a strange harvest--I see nine children and a

mother who does not return and only now you miss

her? She shall be your harvest indeed."

Ochosi spoke also. "I see her trace everywhere.

The villagers speak of a brave woman warrior,

dressed in black with a purple sash, who comes,

stops oppression, but leaves before anyone can

thank her."

"You see her harvesting justice--and you do nothing

but track her traces--what must you learn?"

Osayin shook his head sadly. "I was trusted with

her children, but she has left no word."

"You speak of trust," Orunmilla spoke gently, "and

for that I will speak. She has come by this way,

and left you these horns. Go home, and she will

return when you blow them in blessing the feast."

"But what shall I tell these her children?" asked

Osayin.

"Tell them she will return when the hunters return

from the South with no food, when the sailors

return from the West with no fish, when the lands

to the East are dry, then they should blow their

horns and she will return."

And the three returned to the village by the river

Niger disheartened. They waited for another moon

and thought of Orunmilla's words. Elegwa looked to

the East and saw only the shifting stars. Osayin

looked to the west and saw only the birds on the

seashore, Ochosi pondered the South and the strange

tales of a warrior who took no food as reward. And

they knew that it was time to call her home.

And they blew on the horns.

The wail of the horns died out, and there was a

palpable silence. And from a distance they could

here the snort of some beast come to the village.

They watched and from the forest came an immense

black buffalo, bleeding from many wounds, who ran

at each of them, chasing them into huts as if mad

with fear.

The buffalo ran about the village, once, and they

thought it best to stay indoors. Twice, and they

began to peer outside. Three times, and it was if

they knew to wait. Four times, and the rhythm of

its running made a strange dance on the drums of

the elders. Five times, and all the villagers

began to dance, ignoring the buffalo as it

continued to run. Six times and no one could be

still. Seven times and the beast began to tire.

Eight times and the drums fell silent. The ninth

time, the buffalo ran into the center of the

village and collapsed, dead of exhaustion and

blood.

The villagers shook themselves, and looked upon the

beast, now dead in the village. It skin now hung

in tatters, like cloth, and even as they watched,

the tatters became loose, and the hooves shrank,

until finally they saw Oya, seemingly dead upon the

ground.

"No, it cannot be," cried Osayin, "we saw her

tracks everywhere and we never suspected."

"She is the harvest we knew was to come, but not at

the sacrifice of our friend," replied Elegwa.

"Only the hunter knows what it is to be hunted,"

observed Ochosi. We tracked her to the East, to

the West, to the South, and never knew that we

chased a friend. And now, she is dead."

"I am not dead," spoke a voice from the clearing,

and they turned but saw no one. "I am not dead,"

and it was if the sky itself sang. "You see my old

form, your old friend, that was but a shell. I am

the spirit of the wind, and nothing will keep me

from my children." And the wind blew as if a great

howling of drums and Oya arose alive again, calling

her children one by one.

"Not many know me as you know me, my youngest

child, you shall be the Dark Mother (pulling out a

cloth of Black). You will lead them by secret ways

through the forest when they have lost their way."

"I have shed much blood from the spears of the

hunters, you my child shall remember, you are the

Blood Mother (pulling out a cloth of Red). You

will always remember the blood of the warriors who

fight in your behalf."

"The sun shines golden in the fields ripe for

harvest, and you will always know its abundance if

you call on me. You are now the Golden Mother

(pulling out a cloth of Orange)."

"I blind the enemy so that they are diverted and do

no harm, you I call my Shield, the sun (pulling out

a cloth of Yellow). Do no harm when deflection

will do."

"Osayin taught you well the patience of waiting.

Sometimes you cannot see the pattern until the

cloth is finished. You are now the Weaver Woman.

Take this cloth of Green, as you must pull the reed

when it is ripe and let it dry."

"Ochosi traced you to the ends of the earth and

looked upon the sea. There my winds are forever

bringing change. You are now the Hurricane

(pulling out the cloth of Blue), forever changing

the sea and the land."

"When justice is not done, I grow angry, and become

the seeker after truth. I call you Lightning,

blasting from a clear sky (pulling out a cloth of

Indigo)."

"And when you are old, you will teach the young my

words, for you shall be the Crone (pulling out a

cloth of Purple). You will be old before your

years, and call even the elderly to learn at your

feet."
"And you, the eldest child, they will see but

seldom as you will follow in my footsteps,

invisible as the wind, you are the Dancer in the

Flame (pulling out a cloth of Silver)."

Know my friends, Elegwa, Ochosi, Oyasin, that you

did not fail me. You, o wondering villagers, you

cared for my children even in your hunger. Now

when you have need, call me by my horns and there

will be fish in the sea, a harvest on the land, and

meat for the hunter.

Take up the colors of my children as my token, and

when you see them in the sky, know that I am there,

and here, and in your heart. You’re now the

Rainbow, and I am the Wind.

This is just one of many West African Tribal

stories Alberta told to the James Brothers over the

years. Dr. James wasn’t interested in the tails

of Alberta Twombly. But Jimmy and James never

forget the lessons they were told about life in the

West African Niger villages.

It wasn’t until Alberta died in 2002 that the James

Brothers realized Gusty Twombly was their half

sister. The three children grew up together

without knowing this.

Jimmy James discovered the birth certificate tucked

away in an attic trunk with Twombly family photos

from Cuba. The brothers and sister mourned their

loss together.

When Gusty Twombly and Victor Dela Campa Hernandez

Valdez Castro were married it was in the Catholic

Church in Winter Park, Florida. James Jimmy James

was the best man and Jimmy James gave her away.

Gusty kept her family name in honor of her mother.

It all proves that life is a messy business.