Interesting Times - From Havana to Flat Rock
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Morro Castle, Havana, Cuba
In 1858, Flat Rock resident Marti Vazquez Hutson’s great-grandfather sailed into Cuba’s Havana Harbor. Greeting him was the sight of Morro Castle at the entrance to the harbor. Almost exactly one century later in 1959, as Marti and her family fled the Castro regime in Cuba, that same castle would be her last view of the country of her birth.
During a 2023 presentation to the Genealogy Society at Flat Rock, Marti noted that her ancestors had certainly lived, as the old saying goes, “in interesting times.” Her ancestors experienced times that were historic, consequential, and incredibly challenging. Her family research also created a profound sense of gratitude in Marti. “I have come to fully appreciate the goodness in my life,” she explained during her presentation, “Which is the gift of the family that came before me.”
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Marti Hutson’s adventure through the various limbs and boughs of her family tree began simply enough. She opened a thirty-day free trial account at Ancestry.com.
Family lore was filled with stories of her great-grandfather Gustav Adolf von Bock Muller who arrived in Cuba from Prussia in search of opportunity and wealth. Gustav, just 21 years old, found work in the tobacco shop in Havana. Clearly industrious and with a good sense for business, Gustav’s career flourished, and he rose to the highest echelons of the national industry. Indeed, he is credited in some circles with the invention of the cigar band and the 25-count cedar cigar box. So consequential was his career, that upon his death in 1910, his obituary appeared in the New York Times.
Gustav Adolf von Bock Muller
Marti posted the information she had about her great-grandfather to see if other researchers might have some additional details about her forefather. As fate would have it, the answer was a resounding – and quite surprising – “Yes!”
Just two days after her initial post, a woman in California named Myra wrote to Marti to share that Gustav was also her great-grandfather. Comparing notes, the two researchers discovered that Gustav had married Marti’s great-grandmother following the death of his previous wife – Myra’s great-grandmother. In a further twist of fate, Marti and Myra were comparing notes and exchanging emails of the 100th anniversary of their great-grandfather’s death.
With additional information in hand, Marti continued her research at the University of Miami’s Cuban Collection of historic newspapers on microfilm. It was there she stumbled upon yet another mystery. Following Gustav’s death, there were printed condolences from family members – including from women who identified themselves as Frau Beliza, Frau Lydia, and Frau Adeline - three previously unknown daughters of Gustav Bock.
As Marti and Myra continued to pull the strings of their shared family tapestry, they determined that Gustav was prodigious in both business … and marriage. Gustav had in fact been married four times. Myra’s great-grandmother was his third wife and Marti’s Abuelita was his fourth wife - as well as being 41 years his junior. In total, Gustav had 11 children over the course of his four marriages. Marti theorizes that the risks of 19th-century childbirth may have been the reason that Gustav was widowed three times before his final marriage to Marti’s great-grandmother. It was that final union that beget Marti’s maternal grandmother and granduncle.
Ultimately, her research uncovered a global clan of Gustav’s descendants ranging from Italy to Australia to Cuba to Miami.
Further Research
From this auspicious start, Marti continued to assemble the details of her family tree. Her father’s family arrived in Cuba from the Basque region of Spain. In the late 19th century, Basques went to Cuba by the thousands, mostly as draftees of Spain, to fight the Creole insurgency in Cuba. There many of them died from the scourge of yellow fever. Most returned to Spain, but some opted to make new lives in Cuba. Marti theorizes that her ancestors may have been among those who chose to stay.
Maria Luz Clara Jorge
Marti’s mother’s family arrived in Cuba following the 1804 rebellion in San Domingue that resulted in the creation of the new nation of Haiti. As a result of the insurgence, nearly 30,000 Frenchmen resettled to Cuba. Within a generation or two, Marti’s French ancestors changed their name from Georges, to Jorge, and became thoroughly creole. It was Marti’s great-grandmother, Maria Luz Clara Jorge who married a very successful tobacco baron 41 years her elder.
Unfortunately for Marti’s ancestors, the tumult that brought them to Cuba was not going to abate and they would experience three wars of liberation fought with the colonial power Spain spanning the years 1868 – 1898. The third conflict, The Cuban War of Independence was fought from 1895 to 1898 and famously involved American participation in the final year after the sinking of the U.S.S Maine in Havana harbor in February 1898. Following the end of the Spanish-American War, the Treaty of Paris was signed in December 1898, a Cuban Constitution was ratified in 1900, and in 1902 the Cuban Republic was formed.
Following the formation of the new Republic, Marti’s ancestors, and Cubans in general, would enjoy a half-century of relative peace and prosperity. It was during this time that Marti’s parents were born and grew into young professionals building a new family and a comfortable life together in Havana.
Interesting times, however, were not over for Marti’s family.
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Alberto and Marta
Marti’s parents, Alberto and Marta were born in 1928 and 1929 respectively. They met when Marta attended a regatta and saw a handsome young oarsman. As her parents related the tale, it was love at first sight.
Wedding of Marta and Alberto Vazquez in Havana, 1950
They had both attended the University of Havana and Marta, who had been sent to boarding school in New York, was working as an English teacher. During World War II, Alberto had gone to California with dreams of becoming a fighter pilot for the U.S. but was too young. The couple married in 1950 and honeymooned in Miami Beach. Less than one year later, the newlyweds welcomed a baby girl, Marta (Marti) Beatriz Vazquez. It was June of 1951. A second daughter, Linda, was born four years later. Alberto was working for an American company and Marta was teaching English. The young family enjoyed a comfortable life in Havana throughout most of the 1950s.
But there were storm clouds on the horizon.
While the Vazquez family was building a life in Havana, Fidel Castro was conducting a guerrilla campaign to overthrow the Batista government. Ironically, Marti’s parents went to university with Castro and knew from first-hand experience what kind of person he was. They considered Castro to be a thug and gangster motivated less by principle than he was by a quest for power.
In the 1950s, Alberto was selling agricultural products for an American company and had the opportunity to travel throughout Cuba. His knowledge of Castro and being able to see first-hand what was happening outside of Havana gave him a clearer picture of the coming threat. So much so that Marti’s parents developed contingency plans in the event the government was toppled by the revolutionaries.
(l-R) Marti’s mother, age 30, grandmother, great-grandmother and great Grandaunt. Havana, 1959
On January 1st, 1959, their fears were realized when the government of Fulgencio Batista collapsed and by January 9th, Castro and his army entered Havana. Marti’s family only had to look out their window to realize that there was a dangerous change taking place. Marti was just seven years old. In her words:
“I was home from school for lunch. Our house was on a river and our dining room window looked across the river to a marina. We could see people commandeering the boats at the marina and beginning to cross the river to attack our house.
We immediately got up from the dining room table. We left everything as it was. We got our entire family together and piled in our cars and went to a home that I later learned later my parents had already identified as a safe house. Surprisingly, it was in the middle of the old city; Havana Vieja. They chose a place that was an upstairs apartment with a narrow steep staircase to get up to the apartment. My father told us later that it had been chosen because it was defensible.
My grandmothers, my great-grandmother, my cousins, uncles and aunts - we were all there trying to stay calm and trying to stay quiet. I could hear loud voices and commotion on the street below, so I climbed up on the couch that was under the windowsill and I remember peeking through the blinds to see people looting on the streets. People carrying lamps and mattresses and things and breaking windows. That night I remember being in bed with my mother and my sister and I could hear the sound of gunshots.
A day or so later things quieted down and we returned home. Everything was all right because our groundskeeper, with a shotgun that probably didn't work, was able to talk people out of looting the house or burning it down.”
In reality, however, things were never going to truly be all right again. A woman who worked for Marti’s granduncle “denounced” the family to the revolutionaries and a group of very threatening armed men soon showed up at the Vazquez home.
Marti’s FAther, Alberto Vazquez
“They rounded up my entire family and we were all in my great-grandmother's parlor. My cousins, one was a babe in arms, one was a little boy. My sister was three and I was at this time seven and a half. They began to interrogate us because they had a written letter from this former employee denouncing us for counter-revolutionary activities.
I remember my dad who's an absolute hero and who could talk his way out of anything. It was a terribly intense situation and they could have taken us all away. But by the end of that morning, my dad had his arm around the officer in charge and they were just best friends. He saved us all that day.”
Marti quickly learned the importance of pretending to support the revolution and being very discreet about what you said and who was nearby when you spoke. She remembers not being allowed to go outside without an adult.
“Even at that young age, I sensed the freedom that American children had. For me, life was very sheltered. If I wanted to go to the park, I had to have somebody walk with me. I was never able to play free and easy.
There was a family of American children that lived next door and I was fascinated by them. The boys were playing outside and just running around and there was not a single grown-up in sight.”
Marti and her Younger sister, Linda
Indeed, much of what Marti thought she knew about America she gleaned from the Dick and Jane books she read at school and American comic books that her father picked up at the newsstand on his way home from work. The young girl found Little Lulu, Casper the Friendly Ghost, Archie, Superman, and Supergirl to be very informative regarding the mysteries of American social life.
One comic book character, in particular, resonated with Marti. “The first love of my life was a kid from outer space who like me found refuge in his adopted home, the United States of America,” explains Marti. “Superboy captured my heart and imagination. He lived in a perfect place called Smallville which was an imaginary refuge from an increasingly threatening and very real world.”
Escape from Cuba
Marti credits her parents with being clear-eyed about the meaning of Castro’s takeover. “They were so grounded in common sense. They were able to see through all of the clutter of misinformation. They made a decision that must have been so difficult for them at a time when most people thought they were just crazy.” Friends and colleagues told Marti’s parents that the turmoil would pass. That life would return to normal. Some even suggested that the change in government would be better for everyone. Alberto and Marta Vazquez did not buy those arguments.
The Vazquez family applied for permanent residency in the United States. Helped my Alberto’s employment with an American company and the family’s fluency in English, visas were approved. “I remember that final interview at the American Embassy in Havana,” says Marti. “A man behind a desk asked why we wanted to become Americans. My mother answered him, in English, ‘Because I don’t want my girls to grow up in a Communist country.’ Without comment, he signed the papers.”
On the morning of December 31, 1959, Marti’s mother dressed her and her sister in red sweaters and black pedal-pushers - the colors of the revolution - as a precautionary display of support for the regime. The furniture had been crated and removed for shipment to Miami. Clothes and a few necessities were piled in the back seat of the family Ford, for transport in the ferry that traveled between Havana and Key West.
On that morning, Marti’s extended family was there to see them off. As everyone was busy with the final goodbyes, Alberto called Marti over to the Ford to show her that he had removed the inside panel of the front passenger door and hidden a stack of American money inside. He explained why to his young daughter. “I want you to know in case something happens to your mother or me.”
The family boarded the ferry and eerily were the only passengers on board. They arrived in Key West at dusk and drove off the ferry to the US customs gate at Stock Island. To everyone’s relief, the smiling customs agent waved the Vazquez family through with, “Welcome to the United States, and Happy New Year.”
Marti remembers the long drive over the old Seven Mile Bridge from Key West to Miami and her first meal of American BBQ at Shorty’s. Marti’s father had to borrow a screwdriver from the restaurant manager to retrieve the hidden money to pay for their dinner.
Growing up in America
The United States was everything that Marti hoped it would be. She was free from the constant worry that haunted her family in Havana. She was free to ride her bike and play out on the street. And, since her parents were so busy trying to build new careers and a new life for the family, Marti was no longer subject to the constant supervision of an extended family as she had known in Cuba.
Her dream of living in “Smallville, USA” had come true.
Of course, the experience for her parents was much different. Marti’s mother went to an adult vocational school to learn typing and shorthand to get a job as a clerk. Her father sold appliances out of a storefront in downtown Miami. Life was not as comfortable as had been the case in Cuba with a household full of servants and all the amenities of gracious living.
But they were free. “One of the things my dad always joked about in our little three-bedroom two-bath house in the suburbs of Miami-Dade County was that, we were liberated from having people live in the house with us,” Marti says with a smile. “He considered it a liberation to mow his own lawn and to get up in the morning and cook breakfast for us.”
“I don't think my parents ever once regretted leaving their old life in Cuba behind.” Indeed, her uncle, Alberto’s brother, remained in Cuba and was captured and executed by the new regime.
After high school, Marti was in a class at Miami-Dade Community College one day when she noticed “a cute guy with long hair and love beads.” The guy was Jim Hutson. Jim had spent a year at Duke University, but the freedom and diversions of college life had undercut his academic pursuits. Leaving college, he decided to pursue the most exciting adventure he could think of – flying combat helicopters in Vietnam.
Marti and Jim on the night before he deployed to vietnam
When Marti brought Jim home to meet her parents, Marti’s mom was skeptical at first – the long hair and beads did not impress. But his eventual deployment to Vietnam may have worked in his favor according to Marti. “My mother ended up loving him because who could be more a perfect boyfriend for your teenage daughter than a guy who's on the other side of the globe?”
After his stint in the military, both Jim and Marti attended the University of Florida. Marta got a degree in English and Jim continued his studies at the UF medical school. He went on to have a career as a trauma orthopedic surgeon. The couple had three sons and Marti tended to the home front as they raised their family in Miami.
Once the boys went out of their own, Marti returned to the University of Miami to get a master’s degree in Art History. She had volunteered at the Lowe Art Museum in Miami as a docent and loved it. Once she received her degree, she returned to Lowe to work as an instructor for the Docent’s Guild for the next 20 years.
When it came time for Jim and Marti to retire, they began looking for a home in North Carolina. Jim had done his residency training in Winston-Salem and the couple lived in Elkin, NC for a short time early in Jim’s career. “We loved the climate and we loved just the feeling of the Carolinas,” says Marti. As is so often the case, the couple first looked at Asheville but it didn’t feel right. So they followed a suggestion on the internet that they consider retirement communities in Hendersonville.
Marti was sold immediately. “It was just so beautiful and I said, ‘This is it, I'm home.’” They found a hilltop lot in Kenmure and this June will mark five years of living in Flat Rock
Marti and Jim Hutson Todah
Marti especially enjoys their new home in Flat Rock. “I love the people here. It's like the first day of junior high school. Everybody's from a different feeder school, and so you get to meet new friends and we certainly have. There's always something to do, somebody interesting to talk to. I discover new people and new things to do every day.”
When asked if she misses Cuba or has a desire to return someday, Marti replies with an empathic, No! “All I have left of Cuba are the memories in my head. If I go back, those memories will be displaced by contemporary reality.” And then she adds, “The place I came from doesn't really exist anymore.”
Far from being bitter or disappointed, Marti is very positive about the twists and turns in a life that led her from Havana to Flat Rock. “I feel gratitude because, for every difficulty that came my way, we were able to overcome those difficulties.” She adds with a smile, “I always wanted to go to Smallville and live the life of Sally, Dick and Jane. So I'm here where I am supposed to be after all.”
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On the final day of 1959, as Marti and her family sailed away from Havana Harbor and Cuba for the very last time in search of a new life, she gazed out upon Morro Castle. It would be the last sight of the country where she was born. That very castle was the same sight her great-grandfather first saw when he arrived in Cuba to start a new life. The two views of the castle – one arriving and one leaving – served as fitting bookends to a century of very “interesting times” for Marti Vazquez Hutson and her many Cuban ancestors.
