The next morning came with the excitement of the American Airlines prop plane landing at about 6:00 am and the blonde American (crew? G-man?) in plain clothes coming in through the door from the runway and sitting on top of a desk just to the left side of the runway exit door. I thought that it was pretty relaxed of him and assumed that everyone that worked there must have known him from coming in from Los Estados Unidos a twice a week to pick up refugees. He said something to me that I didn't understand, as evident by the inquisitive "twitch of the nose" expression that I gave him. You know... ¿que? (twich of the nose).

After take off at 7:00 o'clock in the morning, I saw my parents crying, along with a few other elders. It was a poignant moment, but the trip turned out to be a beautiful one. Forty five minutes long, and on a partly cloudy day. I remember seeing the Florida Keys as green patches on a purple, green and blue ocean with US 1 appearing as a pencil line going through them. The stewardesses were Spanish speaking Americans and were real nice to us.

It was wondrous to land in MIA flying past a four lane Palmetto Expressway and seeing the newer American cars pass by below. In MIA, I remember seeing a large sign above the entry door stating "Bienvenidos Cubanos". We then entered into... another room full rows of folding chairs, sat and waited for the heads of household to return from their secret service interviews. During that time I had the first taste of Kellog's Corn Flakes (in travel boxes) and whole milk (that as a kid I used to find disgusting, but out of that pint-carton tasted not too bad) in a long time. The brown haired girl and I found each other again and talked some more.

The rest of the families, including us, were grouped according to religious denomination and which way we were going (staying in Miami, or going elsewhere) and boarded into a shuttle bus and driven to a temporary boarding house. It seems as if that place had been an old hotel at one time. I remember it being two stories, pink and located on the northwest corner of the (then) MIA runways, I believe in the corner of NW 16th St and NW 69th or 70th Ave. It had a little shop in the lobby that was tended by an old Cuban man. At around noon, my old man Luis, along with the rest of the heads of household were returned from their interviews, and he produced some... American coins! I never knew where he got them, but after examining my newfound bounty, I promptly ran to the little shop to get what I'd been dreaming of having for years: chewing gum and Life Savers!

I remember that afternoon standing outside of the refugee center watching the jets take off and land with a mouthful of Wrigley's Juicy Fruit and Chiclets Peppermint gums. I had never seen jet planes before, except in old Spanish language Reader's Digest magazine ads, and was amazed by the "whisper jet" type 3-exhaust planes (you know, the ones with a jet engine on each side in the rear of the fuselage and one single one on the tail wing). I could see them taxiing up the runway slowly, and they reminded me of strutting, roaring cats. They would then turn around and take off eastward. I couldn't believe the take-off speed and fast climb in the far distance. And the noise those things made when they retro-jetted at landings!

It was a surreal early afternoon. I don't remember when I said goodbye to the brown haired girl who went to Chicago. I wonder if she still lives and if she wonders the same as me about that day. And does she remember my name?