In December 1961, my mother, sister and I arrived in Miami on this direct flight from Havana. During the customs screening process, the airport officials confiscated a bible, scissors and other miscellaneous personal items such as a medical dictionary from my poor defenseless mother. She was grateful by the moral victory of departing this evolving communist country with her children. I have faint memories of trying to sleep while adjusting to the exposure of strange hotel sounds, smells and lighting. My Mom even scolded us for playing games (i.e., annoying her) as we turned the headboard reading lights as a playground for on/off amusement! The due diligence my Dad completed in plotting our escape from Cuba included those hidden two $20 bills in each of the soles of our shoes. This provided some means for my mother to pay for the hotel and basic food during our first night in Miami. Welcome to the Estados Unidos – land of freedom and opportunity!
As I reflect upon this milestone event today, I imagine a joyous family reunion that took place as my parents were reunited in the Bronx for the first time in over a year. My father was amazed by how much his two children had grown in just a twelve month period. Much to his dismay, he was not too happy about the fact that his son (yours truly) was apparently marching around the living room mimicking the behavior of my Cuban children exposed to the indoctrination of the new Castro regime.
The other tough adjustments for my newly reunited Cuban-American family was both the new immersion experiences of having to learn a foreign language and the harsh NYC winter weather. We obviously accepted this new reality in a foreign land as a preferred alternative to the oppressive communist themes emerging in our native homeland. I cannot even imagine the sacrifices my parents made in leaving behind their parents, siblings and other relatives on merely the dreams for a better future.