SECTION NINE
sm
COLUMN
FIFTY-SIX, FEBRUARY 1, 2001
STOP THE PRESSES! I WANT
TO GET OFF
or
WEBS, WASPS AND WHIPLASH WHILE CRUISING THE O-ZONE
PART 8: CUBA:
POLITICAL BEGINNINGS
The
foundation for the government's intense rancor against me goes back to an
incident that happened in Cuba in 1952. There, I had knowledge of an exchange of
some Springfield rifles from our Destroyer Squadron---old rifles that were being
replaced by the new M1s---to a group of remarkable people who showed me
first-hand what Fulgencia Batista, the U.S.-supported military dictator, was
doing to the Cuban people. It was my first political act.
My
activities in Cuba would never have surfaced if I hadn't "lost it"
"worm," one of the haves who skipped to the United States with enough
He
talked about how he had fled the horrible Communists who nationalized industry,
closed down the nightclubs, took over the hotels, and forced the doctors to
practice the oath they took when graduating from medical school---that is, to
provide medical care to people regardless of their ability to pay. His speech
was gut-wrenching. I could smell gun grease. The crowd was hanging on his every
word. Applause interrupted him every few sentences. He was living proof to these
people that Castro was a Communist who had to be eliminated---living
justification for programs of assassination by U.S. agents, programs that would
work better during the sixties when J. Edgar Hoover infiltrated antiwar groups
through his COINTELPRO activities.
Listening
to him whine his way through a litany of greed was intolerable. I turned to my
bottle of Old Style and was soon retreating into my memories. My soul warmed as
I left the dry, bone chilling cold of Iowa and returned to the 98 percent
humidity and nighttime temperatures of 110+ that I had found in revolutionary
Cuba previous to the people's victory.
When
I arrived in Cuba in the early fifties, I was fresh out of high school and
sincerely believed that the United States of America was the greatest country in
the world. The land of opportunity. Anyone and everyone could make it. "We
hold these truths to be self-evident...etc., etc."
I was in the navy to protect the world from dictators---most of who happened to be Commies at that point in history. The generation immediately before mine had taken care of the Nazis, Il Duce's Brown Shirts, and the Japanese. Frank Sinatra was singing "I am an American, and proud of my liberty and my freedom to make derogatory remarks about Dorothy Kilgallen's chin." I was one of many young, tough Americans. I had my share of faults: no ambition, couldn't deal with routine, I bored easily, carried a book with me at all times to read as soon as the boss turned his back. On the plus side, I didn't abuse people, was generous with what little money I had, and was loyal to my friends. ##
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