September 22, 2013

Cuando Sali de Cuba - Fernan's Story (A Giveaway)

September 22, 2013/ Marta M. Darby

Marta here:

A friend called me recently: "There's a new book called, The Cubans. You're mentioned in it." I was intrigued and contacted the author, Fernando Hernandez who very kindly agreed, not only to share his story, but to share his book with MBFCF readers.

First, let's let Fernan tell his own story.

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July 8th, 1962 was the day I left Cuba, my parents, other family members, friends, and all the memories that a nine year old boy had experienced. On that fateful day my life was changed, transformed, I was never to be the same again. It was to be also one of the saddest days of my young life as I waved goodbye to my mami.

My brother and I were among 14,068 young children who left Cuba via Operation Pedro Pan, a clandestine operation from 1960-1962 that brought youngsters from 5 to 17 years of age to the United States by themselves. I am sure the communist authorities knew perfectly well that thousands of Cuba’s youngest citizens were leaving, but I believe they did nothing to abort the operation. Family separation was one of the many tactics the regime enacted, and having heart-broken parents in the island assured them of fewer political troublemakers and contrarevolucionarios. When we left from our hometown of Banes, in the Oriente province (now called Holguin), only mami accompanied us to La Habana. You may wonder, where was your father? He was too despondent, emotionally wrecked to muster the courage to bid us goodbye. He never came to see us, as my brother, mother and I got on a bus for a long ride to the capital. Papi stayed behind, comforted by our abuela and other family members. Sometimes we don’t fully grasp or comprehend the suffering that so many of our parents endured when we left our homeland. The other day a man who knew my dad told me he never met a man who shed so many tears for his children as my papi had. Our separation was close to four years, did he have any tears left?

Mami showed me what unconditional love is as we spent a few days in La Habana, a city we had never visited. She took us to the zoo and went sightseeing while we waited for the departure day. She never cried or displayed any emotional weakness during the ordeal, I can still see her permanent smile and her encouraging words to my brother 11, and I. All that she knew was that we were going to a boys’ camp in Miami and then we would be relocated to either a foster home or an orphanage somewhere in the United States. My parent’s main concern was that we would live in a democratic society and that they would join us in the near future. Her anxiety, anguish, and motherly instinct of being close to us did not cloud her judgment and she proceeded to send us to the promise land. Her pain was secondary; she knew this difficult decision had to be made for our benefit.

The day finally arrived. We were placed in the pecera, a large room in the airport enclosed with glass that resembled a fish bowl. We were the fish and those on the outside looked at us as if we were in an aquarium. Mami reminded us to behave well and to take care of one another. But I do not recall mami kissing or hugging us one last time. She walked out of the pecera firm, stoic, and walked to the upper level to see the plane depart. My brother and I, along with the rest of the people waiting, were notified to board the flight.

As I took a seat in what was my first flight, I glimpsed out the window and saw my mami frantically waving a white handkerchief toward the plane. Then I saw her embrace another woman (perhaps another Pedro Pan mom?) and began to see her collapse in a torrent of tears. Even after 51 long years, I have to dry my eyes as I write this. I cannot forget, and I don’t ever want to forget, that moment when a mother’s heart could not be contained. Mami waited to the very last, possible second to unleash what her heart felt, she could no longer conceal her parental anguish. She thought I could not see her from the plane but my eyes were fixed on my precious mom who gave everything she had for my brother and I. As I watched helplessly, the mother I loved was baring her soul and spirit in a continuous cry. What a great blessing to have Maria Elisa Lorenzo Gonzalez as my mami! Thanks to mami and papi I had an opportunity to live as a free man. May my parents reside in a special place in heaven, a palace reserved for all the loving and courageous Cuban parents who sacrificed all so that we could live in an open, free, and democratic society.

by: Fernando “Fernan” Hernandez
Author: The Cubans Our Footprints Across America (July 2013) Amazon.com.

Fernan has graciously agreed to share his book with MBFCF Readers. So let's do a giveaway!

MBFCF Giveaway:

The Cubans, Our Footprints Across America by Fernando "Fernan" Hernández.

One person will win the book, autographed by Fernan. Please leave a comment on this post for a chance to win the book. Answer one or both of the following questions:

Do you know (or are you related to) any Pedro Pans?
Did you ever have your own "Cuando Sali de Cuba" moment? (The realization of what an enormous thing had happened to your family.)

I'll choose a winner on Wednesday, September 25th, 2013 at 11 am.

October 03, 2012

Cuando Sali de Cuba (or not) - Christina's Story (MBFCF Giveaway #4)

October 03, 2012/ Marta M. Darby

Marta here: I first met Christina, author of The Red Umbrella, a couple of years ago at Cuba Nostalgia in Miami. My first impression of her was that she was "the real deal." She cares deeply about her subject matter because, in the case of The Red Umbrella, it is very close to her family's story. She has been gracious enough to share her inspiration for writing this beautiful novel.

by Christina Diaz Gonzalez

Technically, I can’t say or write about “Cuando Sali de Cuba” as I have never been to the island. However, since I was a little girl, I have been hearing stories of how my parents left Cuba through Operation Pedro Pan.

The heartbreak of saying goodbye at the airport’s pecera, the pain of leaving everything behind and the fear of an unknown future in a foreign country was repeated countless times. Yet, the magnitude of this exodus of children was lost on me. Growing up I would roll my eyes whenever the topic was brought up. To me, it was old news. In fact, we all have those family stories that we so often take for granted until those who tell the tales are no longer with us. Thankfully, I had a wake-up call before it was too late.

I was an aspiring writer searching for inspiration to write my first novel. It wasn’t until I heard another author talking about her book (Erika’s Story written by Ruth Vander Zee) that I realized the powerful story that I had within my own family which was being lost to the sands of time.

I saw that if my own kids didn’t grasp this important part of American history (over 14,000 Cuban children being sent to the U.S., by themselves, is a HUGE part of American history… not just Cuban-American history), how could I expect others, who didn’t have a family connection, to even know about Operation Pedro Pan?

That’s when I decided to write The Red Umbrella. I guess this was, in a way, my “Cuando Sali de Cuba” moment because I gained a deeper understanding of what it was like for these children of Operation Pedro Pan to leave their home, their parents, their friends. I tried to imagine myself being placed into those circumstances and then I put my main character, Lucia, into similar situations.

It has been with great joy that I have received countless emails and comments from many Operation Pedro Pan kids saying that they are grateful that their story is finally being shared with a new generation. I am so very proud to have had a small part in sharing their “Cuando Sali de Cuba” story.

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MBFCF Readers, please say hello to Christina Diaz Gonzalez. I was personally floored when I read her debut, The Red Umbrella. She so perfectly captured the conflicts and fears of what it must have been like for an unaccompanied minor to come to a new country and how they might react in that frightening and difficult situation. She is as talented as she is lovely.

Christina has recently completed her 2nd novel, A Thunderous Whisper, set in the sleepy Spanish town of Guernica during World War II.

MBFCF Blogiversary Giveaway #4:

The Red Umbrella and A Thunderous Whisper (both autographed by the author)

One person will win both books, autographed by Christina. Please leave a comment on this post for a chance to win the books. Answer one or both of the following questions:

Do you know (or are you related to) any Pedro Pans?
Did you ever have your own "Cuando Sali de Cuba" moment? (The realization of what an enormous thing had happened to your family.)

I'll choose a winner at the end of MBFCF Blogiversary Giveaway Week on Monday, October 8th, 2012 at 11 am.

November 17, 2011

Operation Pedro Pan. It's been 50 years and the pain is still present.

November 17, 2011/ Marta M. Darby

When I mention to someone that I've just met that I'm Cuban, the first thing they do is recall the only other Cuban person they've ever met. Then next thing that happens is that they ask me if I know them.

Most of the time I don't, but being Cuban, we do manage to find connections in the oddest places. See this story.

Just as often, I meet someone whose only exposure to Cubans was that they remember "a Cuban kid came to live with a local family in the early 60's."

What they're unknowingly referring to is Operation Pedro Pan. During the early days of the Cuban Revolution that destoyed so many lives, parents desperate to save their children from the communist takeover sent them unaccompanied to the U.S.

This heartbreaking chapter in our exile story is not very well known outside of Cuban circles. There were 14,048 unaccompanied minors placed on airplanes, some never reuniting with their families.

My brother was one of the lucky ones. He was 15 and it was the day after Christmas 1960 when he was sent to the U.S. on the very first Pedro Pan flight. He was taken in, along with dozens of Cuban kids by Father (later Monsignor) Bryan O.Walsh until our family was reunited a few months later.

This rememberance card was given to my brother by Msgr. Walsh during his stay at St. Raphael Hall.

This weekend members of Operation Pedro Pan Group will mark the 50th anniversary of the airlift that brought 14,000 unaccompanied minors from Cuba to the U.S. with a Mass of thanksgiving on Sunday, Nov. 20, at 3 p.m. at Immaculata-La Salle High School in Miami.

The Mass will be celebrated by Archbishop Thomas Wenski and will be followed by the dedication of the original La Salle building in honor of Msgr. Bryan Walsh, the Catholic priest whom the Pedro Pans consider their “foster father.” The building will be renamed the Msgr. Bryan O. Walsh Humanities Pavillion.

The Mass and rededication ceremony will come at the conclusion of three days of Pedro Pan-related activities, Nov. 18-20. On Friday, Nov. 18, Archbishop Wenski will kick off a day-long conference on “Pedro Pan: A 50-Year Perspective,” with a reflection on the legacy of Msgr. Walsh.

Neither my brother, nor my mom ever talk much about this painful drama in our family life. I, personally, can't imagine the agony of separation from my kids in this way. My guess is that members of this particular group would find it difficult to relate to others unless they, too, experienced the same pain.

Today, my mom (97) says she mostly remembers the relief and the gratitude. But even after 50 years, the look in her eyes says she feels the pain accutely.

Are any of you Pedro Pans? Will you share?

July 25, 2010

The Red Umbrella - a giveaway.

July 25, 2010/ Marta M. Darby

There is an episode in Cuban history that not many people outside of our community are aware of .

When Castro and his cronies took power, not only was personal property at risk of being confiscated by the new communist government, but parents were going to lose their rights over their own children.

Desperate and terrified Cuban parents made the unthinkable decision to send their children out of the country rather than risk losing them to Marxist-Leninist indoctrination.

Airplane tickets and passports were clandestinely secured. With the help of the Catholic Welfare Bureau (Catholic Charities) of Miami 14,048 (!) Cuban youths were placed in foster homes and orphanages throughout the U.S during those years.

The largest recorded exodus of unaccompanied minors in the Western Hemisphere was known as Operation Pedro Pan. From December of 1960 to October of 1962 they left Cuba, a few at a time. The Cuban parents who sent their children out of the country didn't know if they would ever see their children again. Many did not. About half of them were reunited with their parents.

But if you were to talk to most Pedro Pans today, they are nothing but grateful to their parents for making this impossibly heartbreaking sacrifice.

My friend, Christina Diaz Gonzalez has taken on the topic of the Pedro Pans and has crafted an absolutely beautiful story. The book is called The Red Umbrella. It is an historical fiction novel that follows 14 year-old Lucia from her carefree life in a small town in Cuba to an unknown future, without her parents, in the heart of Nebraska.

The story strikes a personal chord with Christina, as both her parents and mother-in-law were part of Operation Pedro Pan.

Carrie and I had the privilege and pleasure of meeting Christina in May at Cuba Nostalgia in Miami. (And yes, as a matter of fact, she is absolutely adorable, but that's not important right now.)

(Of course, Carrie got up close and personal with the video camera and got Christina to give us some Tiki Tiki love.)

I was so personally delighted with the book (and with Christina, herself) that I asked if I could please promote her book here on MBFCF. She graciously agreed.

Christina will be in Southern California this coming weekend.

So, readers, please get yourselves over to one of these signings. Get a copy of this beautiful book. Pick one up for a friend. It's written in an elegantly simple style and would be most appropriate for a young teen also. My Lucy is reading The Red Umbrella as I speak write.

Christina will be at: