As a first-generation Cuban American, I have no idea what it’s like to arrive in freedom after escaping communist tyranny, but I do know that it is an occasion worth remembering and celebrating. Cuban exile Alex Sanchez remembers that September day in 1961 when he and his family escaped the oppression of communism in Cuba and arrived in America to live as free people.
I escaped Castro’s Cuba for freedom in America. Sixty-one years later my family still celebrates our arrival
This 3rd day of September will be a very special anniversary for the Sanchez family. As we will celebrate our 61st year in the United States, for the Sanchez family it is a celebration of living in freedom in the greatest country ever created.
September 3, 1962, holds a special meaning for my family; it is a day my mother, brothers and I will never forget. It is the date my mom, two older brothers and I left behind the tyranny of Castro’s Socialist Cuba to come to the freedom of the United States. This year marks the 61st anniversary of that day.
My father fled Cuba in 1961 on a cargo ship bound for Spain to escape communists who were after him.
My mother stayed behind with me and my two older brothers, Juan, who at 10 years old was now the man of the house, and Guillermo, age 9, in the house that she and my father had built in the suburbs of Havana. Goons from Cuba’s revolutionary army would come by at all times of the day and night to harass my mom.
They would call her names and shout at her that she would lose her home soon and that we were traitors to the communist revolution. My two older brothers were always at my mom’s side when the soldiers came, helping her and standing strong with her.
When Castro closed all the country’s Catholic schools, my mom pulled my two brothers from the public schools. My mom did not want her sons to attend public schools where the children were being indoctrinated by the communists to believe in Fidel as the Supreme Being and that there was no God.
My father, who stayed in Spain for just a few months after his arrival, was eventually granted political asylum in the United States and immediately began the paperwork to have us leave on one of the Freedom Flights President Kennedy had arranged for Cuban families seeking freedom in the United States.
Waiting to be reunited
As a young boy, I would often ask my mother where papa was. She always replied that I would see him again soon, but he was always close in my heart. Not long after my father began to work on having our family removed from Cuba, my mother — who told me this story — finally received the good news that she would be able to leave Cuba with her three sons.
For many months she had fought with Cuba’s communist government to allow Juan, my eldest brother, to leave the country with us. (The Cuban government wanted Juan to stay behind since he was 10 years old and could soon begin military training and communist indoctrination.) My mom won — she is one tough lady when she has to be.
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So now we all have to worry as we are becoming Communist Cuba.
Trump 2024!
“If I ever have a “bad hair day,” the mere thought of my parents’ experience puts things back into perspective.”
When setbacks occurred in life (as they always do) my parents would remind us, “mas se perdio en Cuba”.