Posted from a friend on the Facebookz.
On New Years Eve, 1959, my parents-in-law were celebrating at a supper club in Havana, dancing into the New Year with hopes of happiness & prosperity. Just after midnight, the music stopped & the lights turned on. The man who got on the stage told the crowd that Batista had fled Cuba, Fidel Castro’s army had won & was making its way into the city. Time for everyone to go home, get off the streets, it wasn’t safe. As they left, they saw the first signs of the revolution. Parking meters were smashed in pieces & shots were being fired in the distance in celebration of what was coming. The thing is, like most such chaotic moments in history, nobody really knew what was coming…
In a few months time, Castro would force everyone into the city “square”. By force, I mean his troops went door to door making sure that all were in attendance. If you weren’t, you were taken to jail. All of this was to announce that Cuba would now have a new currency, and whatever money you had to date, whether you had worked for it your whole life or inherited it from your parents who had spent their lives working for it, you would now only be allowed to keep $200 worth…that’s it. The rest went to the Cuban government. Fancy that. They were liberating the Cuban people from prosperity, independence & freedom because now they would be dependent on the government for EVERYTHING.
The next day, my father-in-law went to work with his brother as he did everyday in his father’s meat packing factory. When they arrived, they walked in to see soldiers throughout the factory. The one in charge approached my father-in-law & his brother and told them that the factory was now property of the state and that they could go back home because they had no more right to it. As they turned to go, the soldier stopped them once more and asked them how they got there. When my father-in-law told them that they had driven their cars, the soldier said those cars also belonged to the state, so they could hand over the keys and walk home. It was the beginning of the end for my father-in-law who left Cuba a year later. His brother never made it out. He committed suicide many years later and my father-in-law had to hear about it from friends of the family.
My in-laws came to the US with NOTHING. Everything they owned and had worked for was left behind. My father-in-law was allowed to take a couple pair of pants, two shirts, one belt, and one pair of shoes…that’s it. This is what they came here with to start a new life, and they were the lucky ones. My father-in-law passed away a few years ago. He never got the chance to go back to his beloved island, to see his family and friends, to see his home where he grew up and started his life and family, but most importantly, he never got the opportunity to see Cuba free.
This is just a part of their story, and only one of so many other stories for so many other Cuban families. I thank God everyday that my husband, myself and our children were born here. But I will never forget where our family came from and what they went through. We stand with the Cuban people against years of tyranny and dictatorship. We let our voices be heard because theirs are silenced.