TEXT OF THE ABOVE NEWSPAPER ARTICLE:

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Fairfield, Oct 24.

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     A mile off the traveled highway, in a peaceful countryside of Freestone County, lives a man who took part in that colorful and strange emigration of the 60s, when more than 100 men from Hill, Navarro, and McLennan counties. The fall of Gettys-burg and the new government rankling in their hearts, turned their faces toward an alien land, and founded homes in South America rather than begin their lives anew under what they termed a "Yankee regime."

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     That countryside home in Freestone County, with the peaceful fields stretching away from it, and the lovely cedars lifting green plumes along the creeks, is in curious contrast to the South American country where Dave Nettles spent his youth.  No birds flash through the trees with a bewildering radiance of color such as those on which Dave Nettles, then a little boy, gazed in wonder when he entered the strange South American world.  No baboons now come at night to plunder the fields, and the only cry is the weird hoot of a dusky owl or a whippoorwill calling through the gloom.  The wild tropical hurricane that he saw sweeping the area and the ghastly shipwreck that stranded himself and other emigrants on the Cuban coast are only memories.

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     But to Dave Nettles, it is a clear memory.  Lying on a cot in the open hallway of his comfortable old country home he told of that voyage from his native land, of his childhood in the new country, and, smiling a little, he showed a long scar on his hand.

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     "I got that from a six-foot lizard.  I was just a kid and that lizard was getting the better of my dog."

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      A six-foot lizard is enough to tax the faith of any East Texas reared individual, but the integrity of Dave Nettles, the high standard of citizenship that he maintained is attested by a grand old man of the section who said a few days pre-viously:

 

      "When Dave Nettles tells you a thing, It's just that-a-way."

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Faces Turned From Home.

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     It was a terrific undertaking, but these men had lived through four years of unbelievable hardships.  Their wives who had helped them shoulder the burden did not shrink from the long journey before them.

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      Dave Nettles was 6 years old.  He remembers with vivid clarity how his family prepared for the journey.  His father was Bluford Nettles, a prosperous and strong man; his mother was Margaret Burleson, of a staunch pioneer family.  There were four children.  Dave William, the older sister, a lovely, fragile girl of 14, who was later to capture the heart of an Englishman in a romantic affair: and there was a fat baby boy who was never to leave the land where he had spent his two short years of his life.

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      At last the journey began, a march that might have been a dramatic moment in a modern talkie picturizing the old days, for the emigrants set out in wagons, most of which were pulled by oxen.  The people were light-hearted enough.  They believed that prosperity and happiness lay ahead.  They did not know of the dangers and hardships they were to encounter.

 

      At he Galveston port the baby son of Bluford and Margaret Nettles died, and was buried there a little way from the sea, binding forever the hearts of the young father and mother to the shores of the homeland.

 

Set sail From Galveston  

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      At last, the ship was ready, and the tall white sails were lifted in the breeze.  The hearts of the people beat high as they carried their belongings aboard the vessel.  Dave Nettles recalls clearly how excited he was, how weary he became at last, and how the rolling waters made most of the passengers ill, and how the first pangs of longing for the security of home touched the travelers.  Then came the most dread-ed of all sea disasters.  an event that Mr. Nettles says will be stamped upon his mind forever, in all of its horror and despair.

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      One evening at about 6 o'clock a strange darkness crept over the waters and the passengers began to cast uneasy glances at each other and whisper things that the children could not hear.  The sailors hurried back and forth.  The captain's face was grave.  A little shudder seemed to run across the sea and the sky was shrouded in a greenish darkness.  Far out on the waters, the white caps began to rise to a height that travelers had not seen before.  Fear was on every face and Mr. Nettles recalled that several men and women dropped to their knees and began praying.

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      Suddenly the tropical hurricane was upon them, with a fury that one unaccus-tomed to the sea would believe impossible.

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      "Nothing can ever quite describe what it was like," Mr. Nettles said.  "It tore at that ship and the waves were literally mountain high.  Hope of life was gone.  I learned later that there was not one who believed that rescue could come in any form." 

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Ship Driven To Doom.

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      The wind was driving the ship mercilessly toward her doom.  It seemed certain that she would either go to pieces at sea or be crushed against the rocks of some island shore.  Deliverance came strangely and unexpectedly.  When the ship struck land, it struck the Cuban coast and was grounded in the soft sand.  Even then escape did not seem likely, for the ship was washed over on one side by a wave, righted itself, and then was knocked over by a succeeding wave.  In some mirac-ulous fashion the sailors, waiting for the moment when the boat should be swept over on its side, lowered the passengers one by one to the sands.  It was, Mr. Nettles says, a game with death, the howling wind, and the angry sea.  The scene was one of indescribable confusion in which prayers for deliverance and screams of anguish were strangely mingled.

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      Almost immediately after, the last passenger and crew ad reached safety.  the ship was pounded to pieces, and the wreckage was licked into the sea by the hungry waves.

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      The sun rose in the morning upon a sorry sight.  Food and household furnish-ings were gone.  In drenched clothes, the emigrants huddled there upon the shores of Cuba, far from their native land, but they thanked God for their lives.  

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      The Cuban government came at once to the rescue.  Mr. Nettles recalls how a rich plantation owner, one Doctor Marellos, sheltered many of the emigrants n the spacious rooms of his beautiful home. 

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      A month passed and the emigrants formed a definite course of action.  The shock of the hurricane was gone, and they were ready to take up their journey anew, but no ship sailed from Cuba to South America nor to Galveston.  They must sail from Cuba to New York and thence to South America.  After a number of days the emigrants reached Havana and took a ship to New York.

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Stop Made At Norfolk

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      The long voyage with the strain of the hurricane, and the grief over the baby left in the little grave at Galveston were too much for the young mother, who felt seriously ill.  The ship bearing the emigrants touched at Norfolk, Va,, and here the Nettles family remained until mother was well and could travel to New York.

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     The family reached South America a year behind the other emigrants. but they never joined the colony the emigrants founded thee, and where some of them live now.  The father fell ill with smallpox at Rio de Janeiro.  After his recovery, the family moved inland to a prosperous little town, where they bought land at a very low price.

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      Dave Nettles speaks gently and affectionately of his days where his youth was spent.  Not until he was 21 did he set foot upon the soil of his native land.

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Alien Land To Parents

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      "It was a rich and beautiful country," he said, "and I loved it. " Although my father and mother never did.  Their hearts were too deeply rooted "back home," and they never really learned the language.  With us children, it was different.  We picked up the language from the native children with whom we played.  We never went to the native schools, however.  Our parents taught us at home.  I never went to a public school in my life.

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      "There were only a few American and English-speaking families where we were, but it never bothered me.  My real friends were the native boys, and it was the joy of my life to hunt with them in the tropical forests and on the rich prairies.

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      "The forests near our house were filled with beautiful birds of all kinds and of wonderful colors.  There were golden canaries, the great, richly colored parrots and the tiny parakeets, known as "love birds.'  Planting corn was a simple matter.  One punched a hole in the ground with a stick, dropped the corn and covered it up.  It needed no other cultivation, and grew luxuriously."

 

      Mr. Nettles smiled a little at a reminder of the six-foot lizard incident and sur-veyed the scar on his hand.  "Well, anyway," he said, "I got the best of that lizard.  I was just about 13, and I always hunting with some of the native boys.  They were friendly, and knew the lay of the land and the habits of the animals.  That day, we were chasing this big six-foot lizard, only they look much larger than that when you're chasing them.  Suddenly, the lizard and my dog came together in a wild combat.  There was a great deal of swishing, yelling, and growling, and it dawned on me that the lizard was getting the best of my dog.  Without realizing the danger, I rushed toward the fighters, and before I knew what was happening the jaws of the lizard had closed on my hand.  Blood was running down my arm.  I was powerless.  The prompt action of a little native boy saved my hand and probably my lie. I re-member clearly that he rushed toward me, putting the blade of his large hunting knife between the lizard's jaws and slowly pried them open and set me free.  Well, we killed the lizard."

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A Unpleasant Memory

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      Mr. Nettles killed a baboon once, too, but he doesn't like to think about that even yet.  The baboons destroyed the crops.  They uttered sounds which were weird and unpleasant to hear at night.  Often they came in great droves to rob the fields.

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      "One night," said Mr. Nettles, "a negro workman warned us that a large drove of baboons were in one of the fields.  The chattering mob came swinging through the trees to join those on the ground.  

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      "They were as large as dogs even when they walked on all fours, and swinging through the trees by their tails they looked twice their size.  Suddenly the negro whispered and pointed.  A great fellow had swung himself a little clear of the others and was clearly outlined against the moon.  He made an excellent target.  I knew that if I killed one, the others would flee and our fields would be safe for many days.

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      "I raised my gun.  The great baboon never moved.  I fired.  There was a blinding flash from the old gun, a report that echoed through all that jungle world, but above it all, and lingering after the sound of the gun had died away there arose a long, wild despairing cry, so human in its anguish that I shall never be able to erase it from my memory.  I came back through the moonlight with a resolution in my heart.  I have kept it.  I have never killed another member of the monkey tribe."

 

      Then there was the story of the native boy he had horse-whipped because the native lad had teased him.

 

      "Well, I had my revenge and the result was that a strong friendship developed between me and that boy," Mr. Nettles said.  "There was no young man at all of South America that I hated to leave as I did him when we started for the homeland of my people."

 

      Mr. Nettles' older sister Mary meanwhile developed into a charming young woman.  More than one young Englishman wooed her.  The successful suitor was young Nevill Edenborough from London.  His best friend was Frederico Mercer, who specialized in photography at Curtyba, capital city of the province of Parana.  Mercer made a number of pictures of Mary, one of which is still in possession of the Nettles family.  (See Edenborogh story at the end)

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      Nevill Edenborough married Mary Nettles and built for her a magnificent home with 25 rooms, beautifully furnished.  The estate was called "Shakker."

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Old Folks Yearn For Home

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      Two children had been born to Bluford and Margaret Nettles in this new coun-try.  One daughter had married and established her own household,  The children had grown up and spoke the language of the people of this land, but the hearts of the father and mother were yearning for the homeland.  Thirteen years after they had landed in the South American port, the mother and her daughter boarded a ship for Galveston.  The son-in-law and the father and sons remained to settle business affairs.

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      "I was restless for a long time after I returned," Mr. Nettles said.  "I went out to the Pacific Coast.  Then I returned to Texas and fell in love."

       

      Mr. Nettles settled himself more comfortably and fingered the pair of old scis-sors his mother had taken to South America with her and brought back with her again.

 

      "No, I've never roamed anymore.  I tell you where I'd like to go, though.  I'd like to see South America again.  Sometimes I've a good mind to do it, too."

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