Fidel Was Robin Hood. Fidel Was a Monster.
My friend grew up working the fields in Cuba, where Castro was the people’s patron. I was raised in Florida, where he was the face of evil. Like millions of other Cubans, she and I spent this week discussing how the truth was never so black and white.
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“How did you hear?” I asked Mariela. I hadn’t seen her for ten years, but we still kept in touch over Facebook. She lives in North Carolina and I live in Tennessee. When the news broke of Fidel Castro’s death at ninety years old, she popped into my mind. I sent her a Facebook message, and she immediately replied.
“My boyfriend told me when I woke up, but I was half asleep and didn't understand. My middle sister in Tampa texted me and my oldest sister a few minutes later... I don't process information that early in the morning so it took me a while to really understand,” Mariela said.
“I didn't find out until the morning, either. My brother said he found out the night before. I guess right when it was announced. He woke my dad at one a.m. to tell him.”
Fidel. El Jefe. The large shadow over all of us had died and every news channel and social media outlet showed stories of people celebrating his demise or crying over the loss. Few interviews strayed from these bl…
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