Member-only story
PUERTO RICO, AMERICA’S LATINO STEP CHILD
By: Robert Knight
I grew up in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I lived there for over 34 years of my life. I can remember riding my bike over the cobblestone streets of old San Juan before I knew that these were brought over as ballast on Spanish galleons to be replaced by gold bars destined for Spain. I played guns in the fortress of El Morro before it became a national park. I used to love to see the cannon-ball from a gun on Sir Francis Drake’s ship that still is encrusted in a wall of the fortress, a remnant of one would-be pirate who was driven away by the cannons of El Morro.
At the far end of Cristo street there is a small chapel with a solid gold altar and a fascinating story. Cristo street is a long hill, flanked by colonial buildings, that runs straight down to a cliff at the far end. Young Spanish nobles used to race their horses down the hill in a daring race to the edge of the cliff. One day the enthusiastic winner of the race was unable to stop his horse and flew over the cliff. His father, who was watching the race, prayed for his son and promised to erect a chapel with a golden altar if his son lived. Today that chapel and altar still stand at the end of Cristo street. The horse, of course, died.
