The story: Carmen and Celestino are my grandparents. They came with Rafael (my brother) and I (Reemberto). My parents had to stay behind because my oldest brother was of military age (15). We left on what I understand to be the last flight of American citizens. (My mother was born in New Orleans.) We actually flew to Mexico on Dec. 26, 1966; then on to Miami the next day. Both my grandparents died within 15 months. My parents did not get out of Cuba unti 13 years later... By the time they got here, my brother and I were 22 and 21, respectively. Our aunt and uncle had done a commendable job raising us - and then we were faced with having to adjust to our new old familia, including my oldest brother, his new wife, and their 2 year old son. Now, 42 years later we are proud Americans. Our heritage remains firmly Cuban - and proud, of course :-) Again, thanks for taking this project on! Reemberto Rodriguez
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