The Passing of Streetcars in Santiago de Cuba
They go down the street and become immerse. The asphalt swallows them. A violent curve emerges up the street. They get interweaved in a weird hug. A net in the rain and heat. A flat edge of metal against metal. Ghost lines that tenaciously await and fight death.
Click on Santiago de Cuba: A City of 500 Years
What did the last streetcar driver think when he put his cap and last uniform? That January 26, 1952, was certainly an odd day. It was Saturday, at noon.
There were tears at the funeral, and a city was built on those rails. “The mayor was the driver in that farewell ceremony dedicated to the streetcar”, the press placed emphasis on the moment.
Many people took pictures.
The passing of streetcars in Santiago de Cuba wasn’t natural. At least, that’s the opinion of chronicler Carlos Forment, who thinks that the business of Modelo and La Cubana buses, played an important role in this development.
Could they have coexisted? Were streetcars actually going to fall into oblivion? Or perhaps the world was getting faster, less romantic.
But let’s follow the lines of past. Way before. La Independencia newspaper included headlines praising the inauguration of the streetcar system. It was February 8, 1908, and the high society was waiting for it.
Veterans from the Pro-independence War, authorities, enthusiasts and elegant ladies gathered at Punta Blanca workshops. The National Anthem was played. The Mayor delivered the keynote address. The archbishop of the city blessed the power plant. Precisely, the millionaire investment was up to both the Electric and Traction Companies in Santiago.
There was a lot of talking everywhere. Chronicles were flying: the 20th century had arrived in the eastern capital.
Fourteen streetcars had been bought in Philadelphia, with capacity to seat 28 passengers, and were operating throughout the main arteries of the city. They were perfect for irregular and narrow streets. Those models were later replaced by others, some of which were made in the territory.
The pictures show advertising posters from that time, right on the streetcars: nobody could deny the value of the favorite transportation mean at the time.
Until the late 20th century, the streetcars were managed by the Havana Electric Railway Company.
People say they only had to pay a dime. They paid it on the car, but there were also prepaid chips: five for one peseta. What a great time! And those prices!
Examples of some routes: Mars Square-Alameda Michaelsen, Trocha-Cristina, Martí-Trocha, Vista Alegre-Santa Ifigenia Cemetery. From the opulence to the sea, Vista Alegre-Alameda. I can picture myself traveling.
There are reports of accidents, romances, unusual occurrences…. Let’s take 1913: the streetcar was on the Martí-Trocha route, there was somebody at the intersection with Hartman Street… and that person shot a man. It was a flawless shot. The passengers were living a movie. The victim was taken to the first aid post. Unfortunately, the end was fatal…
I’m looking for a sign in the old pictures I have in front of me; behind every face on the windows, the driver holding the lever. A million stories in 44 years of electric streetcars in Santiago de Cuba!
From the heart of the city to the bay, I try to follow the parallel rails, but the asphalt swallows them. Time makes them fade away. Ghost lines that tenaciously await and fight death.
