By John Etulain
Like many other Basques before and after him, my father, Miguel “Mike” Etulain, came to the United States and made a notable life for himself and his family. In 1952, he arrived in the United States where he worked for his Uncle Juan Etulain in Sunnyside, Washington. Juan was getting out of the sheep industry at the time, so Miguel eventually moved to the Columbia Basin where his Uncle Sebastian Etulain introduced him to Cal Courtright who worked in the cattle industry. Miguel worked for Cal for the next 30 years managing the cattle feedlot. In 1962, he went back to the Basque Country where he married Prudencia Iriarte from Amaiur and brought her to Warden, a small town in eastern Washington. There they raised four children on the family farm.
His life in America was similar to many other Basques, but my dad had a different childhood which in many ways, shaped his life. He was born 1930 in the town of Bera de Bidasoa, and lived in Hondarribia with his mother, Juanita, and two sisters, Asuncion and Carmen. In September of 1936, during the Spanish Civil War, Juanita took the family (and her sewing machine) and crossed over in a small boat from Irun to Hendaye. They initially stayed with a friend in Hendaye then moved to Ciboure where my grandmother worked as a seamstress or any job she could find. The family was taken in by two very kind sisters, Sabine Frisou Urrusmendi and Mayi Frisou Despax. My aunt tells the story that when asked how much it would cost to rent a room, Mayi told Juanita to take care of the children first and they could figure rent out later. The three of them lived in the single room for many years and were considered family.
A lady by the name of Pantxika Irastorza would deliver milk to Ciboure and took a liking to my father. She asked him if he wanted to visit her farm and he said yes and soon would go to the farm whenever he could to work and help out. My dad was very resourceful and clever. He was given an old bicycle that he used to go back and forth to the farm, but had to be creative and use any old parts he could find to keep the bike going.
The name of the farm was Tomaxenia and this is where another interesting part of my dad’s childhood began. The farm was used by the network of local import/export men, also known as smugglers, and this how my dad got to know Florentino Goikoetxea. During World War II, Florentino was one of the main individuals involved in the Comet Line. The Comet Line was a resistance organization that guided Allied soldiers and downed pilots in occupied France and Belgium and smuggled them over the mountains to the British consulate in Bilbao where they would be transported back to Britain and the US. Florentino worked on one of the farms and at night he guided many of the pilots over the mountains, across the Bidasoa river, and on to Bilbao. He asked my dad if he would be willing to be a courier and my dad agreed but told no one. My dad told me how he would carry documents from the Hotel Euskaldunak (located across from the train station in St. Jean de Luz) to the farm in Urrugne. He would make the 6-kilometer trip either by foot or by bike. At times he not only carried documents, but also guided some of the downed pilots from St. Jean de Luz to the farm. He would take off by foot or bike and the men would follow at a distance. I am unsure how many trips he made, but the amazing part of the story is that my father would have been between 12 and 14 years old at the time, making him one of the youngest helpers of the Comet Line.
In 1952, my dad came to the US to build his life but did not speak much of what he did during the War. In the late 70’s we had family from the Basque Country visiting us in Warden and a local paper had come out to run a story on the visitors from a foreign land. My father mentioned some details about helping the Comet Line to the reporter and the reporter returned to write another story about Dad. The story was picked up by the AP and soon he was receiving letters and clippings people had sent from other newspapers. I was looking through some of dad’s papers and came across a folder containing some of these articles. It also contained an article about the Comet line he had taken from Readers Digest and a photo of Kattaline Aguirre. But the most important were three signed letters of accommodations he had received from Kattaline Aguirre (who worked at the Hotel Euskaldunak), Martin Hurtado and from Florentino Goikoetxea documenting his service.
On trips back to the Basque Country, my dad did take me along the route and visited the farm. I have since read up on the Comet line and have put together some of the pieces that he told me and items I read myself. Dad would tell stories growing up during that time, the sacrifices that his mother made for the family, friends that he had, and the kindness of others. He has been gone now for over three years but his example and the life lessons that he taught us are still with us today.