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[[Newspaper article, top left]]
Reporter In Argentina Gets Sentimental Over Cordoba

Mountains and Tolling Of Bells Provide Tinge Of Excitement

(No. 29 of a Series.) ^[[May 25]]

By W. H. Shippen, Jr.,
Star Staff Correspondent.

BUENOS AIRES--The purple Sierras of Cordoba lie far behind us, 500 miles to the west, in the heart of the Argentine. None of us, in all probability, will ever see them again. [[image-inset, author of article]]
Yet, I feel that in months to come I shall often recall them- a background for the old cathedral across the plaza from our hotel, a majestic wall on the western edge of the the pampas, and a series of nerve-tingling shocks for the motorist who traverses their rugged contours.
Yesterday, from a balcony at our hotel, I watched the sun set behind the ranges. It was an autumnal spectacle accompanied by the chiming of the Angelus from ancient bell towers where pigeons fluttered to roost. I'm afraid I felt pretty sentimental about it all. The Cordobans had been more than kind to the strangers in their midst, and we were about to say good-by.
The air was crystal clear to the farthest rim of the mountains. Then, with unbelievable suddenness, a wind sprang up. Dust whirled in form the cultivated pampas. The landscape was blotted out, the cathedral across the plaza faded and disappeared. The newly lighted lamps of the square were yellow blurs. Doors and windows were hurriedly closed.
Suffer No Embarrassment.
If the Cordoban tourist officials who were our hosts suffered any embarrassment, they failed to reveal it by word or sign. For days we visitors had been complimenting the Argentines on their ideal fall weather, clear, mild and sunny. We drove to the station through dust-choked streets. The ladies breathed through dampened handkerchiefs and the men coughed as discreetly as possible.
Our friends of Cordoba ignored the dust to see us off. They stood under a train shed swirling with the opaque stuff and waved until the final whistle blew. Such storms, I am told, are fairly rare, and never occur in the summer season of December, January and February, when South American tourists fill the luxurious mountain hotels to ride, golf, swim, dance and play tennis, or gossip in rocking chairs on wide terraces.
The pampas that extend from the mountains to the sea grow grass lush enough to fatten cattle the year round. Grain fields are tilled with a prodigal hand. The abundance is reminiscent of of our own prairies. Seeing the dust storm, we wondered if the Argentines, in years to come, will suffer the same disaster which befell our farmers of the Middle West.
Monument to American.
On the pampas between the Sierras and the city of Cordoba stands a monument which seems to have captured the fancy of the people-a modernistic, marble shaft more than 250 feet tall, tipped by an airplane beacon. It is a lasting memorial to the late Myriam Stefford, a North American and the first woman flyer of the Argentine.
The flyer's husband, a wealthy Italian resident, had the memorial erected on the spot where his wife plunged to her death in 1935 while on a good-will tour of Argentine provinces. Her plane fell in a sudden storm. The woman flyer is buried in the memorial, along with a fortune in her personal jewelry, according to local belief. An inscription reads, "He Who Desecrates This Tomb Is Cursed."
Part of the broken airplane is mounted near the tomb, draped in the colors of the Argentine and the United States. On a pillar of stone outside the monument is the wreck- [[next column]]age of the airplane engine. The perpetual light in the shaft is supposed to guide airplanes and dirigibles to safety.
Between the beacon and the city lies a government school for training army flyers and a thriving airplane factory. In Cordoba it is curious to hear the chimes from more than 140 old churches mingling with the drone of military airplanes in the sky.
Tradition Still Holds.
The city plaza, according to Dr. William M. Mann, typifies the best of innumerable others in Latin 
America and Spain. Dominated by the huge, 17th century cathedral and flanked by official buildings, it has its central equestrian figure of a liberator, its formal gardens, palms and shrubbery, its bandstand for evening concerts, and its promenades where young people stroll and flirt. In Cordoba the old Spanish tradition still holds-a chaperon for every courtship-sometimes several of them, according to rebellious young blades accustomed to the less-restricted ways of Buenos Aires and Spain.
The cathedral, with its bells of 100 tones, its ancient towers, dome and weathered facades, is known throughout this part of the world. Lacelike grillwork depicts the Apostles, and paintings by Raphael and the old masters adorn the walls above silver altars. An ancient Jesuit monastery in the hills once was connected with Cordoba by a 20-mile tunnel, now filled with rubble. Traces of the masonry still remain. The Jesuits built the tunnel as a precaution against successful Indian raids.
Dr. Mann's greatest interest in [[next column]] Cordoba was the zoo, occupying a steep, winding canyon which, only a few generations ago, was the hideout of bandits bold and numerous enough to stand off the soldiery form their narrow defiles. The zoo planners took full advantage of the natural terrain. The steep walls of the canyon are grown with  more than 60 species of native trees, palms and cactus, and exhibition buildings merge into this background.
Zoo Director Impressed.
The Washington Zoo director was much interested in a group of 40 Patagonian cavvies; in the llamas, alpacas, guanacos and vicunas (all South American relatives of the camel family) and in the rheas or "nandus"-the South American ostrich which once provided American housewives with fine feather dusters. All of these are comparatively rare in zoos in the States. Dr. Mann saw a number of native birds and turtles new to him.
The vicuna, in particular, has [[new column]] become almost extinct. The wild creature has been hunted for the mountains  for generations for its fine fur and wool. We tried to bargain with the natives for robs of vicuna fur, but he prices came too high for our pocketbooks.
Curio shops in Cordoba, however, were less expensive. For example, I bought an old Gaucho knife, with a carved silver handle and a flexible Toledo blade, for 12 pesos-less than $3. In the old days the Gaucho used his knife for two necessities-eating and fighting. Having an appetite for both, he was rarely without his knife, day or night. The handle of my knife is yorn thin and the blade has been sharpened many times.
Old silver coins, in use for almost 400 years, make interesting souvenirs. They were poured at primi-[[new column]]tive smelters, stamped as Spa [[missing corner of article]] currency, and come in every conceivable shape.
Prices Not Hiked.
There are Gaucho belts of many colors and hand-woven ponchos of llama, alpaca and lab's wool. Furthermore, the dealers don't hike the prices for tourists-you have the word of tourist officials for that!
One impression of Cordoba was the sight of peon driving a string of cows through a downtown street jammed with motor traffic-delivering milk on the hoof! Beside him rose a modern building topped by a penthouse, where a butler was exercising a French poodle.
I wondered how the people in the penthouse got their milk!
The North Americans in Cordoba, a city of some 300,000, are less than a score, although the English col-[[/Newspaper article top left]]

[[image-top center, "MONUMENTO A MYRIAM STEFFORD Alta Gracia- Provincia de Cordoba"]]

[[image-bottom center, "PLAZA HOTEL - CORDOBA"]]

[[Newspaper article bottom right]]
CORDOBA HIT BY CYCLONE

DISASTER has again struck at the Provinces of Cordoba, several parts of the Province having been laid waste yesterday by a a wind of cyclonic force which struck Rio Cuarto first and then travelled towards the city of Cordoba leaving a trail of wreckage in its wake which it has so far been unable to adequately estimate.
Judging by the force of the wind, however, it is believed that considerable material damage must of necessity have been caused, while it is also feared that there may have been personal victims.
It was at 16.30 when the force of the wind began to make itself felt at Rio Cuarto. The sky rapidly became clouded over by flying dust and the sun disappeared behind a heavy black cloud. The wind steadily increased and those people in the streets hastily sought refuge. Stores and shops hastily slammed their doors and pulled down their shutters, and those people who remained in the street were almost blinded by the thick cloud of dust which the wind had brought with it.
Electric signs, sun blinds and other moveable objects in the street were torn from their holdings and sailed through the air and in the midst of the confusion the electric current failed.
All traffic in the streets was stopped, while telephonic and telegraphic communications were interrupted for various hours.
Whilst this was going on in Rio Cuarto, the population of Sampacho was undergoing a similar trial, with the added circumstance that an earthquake shook the ground for a whole minute causing the inhabitants to desert their homes and rush for open spaces.
The cyclone reached the city of Cordoba at 18.30 o'clock and similar scenes of panic to those in Rio Cuarto were witnessed. The electric light failed, transport and telephonic communication were interrupted.
Up to a late hour last night no reports of personal injuries or fatalities had been received. [[/Newspaper article bottom right]]