Charles Gomez - Cuban Son Rising

Cuban Son Rising

by Charles Gomez

Copyright 2020 Charles Gomez

ISBN 978-1-64663-051-6

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any otherexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.

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8004354811

www.koehlerbooks.com

CUBAN SON RISING

CHARLES GOMEZ

Special thanks to Stanley Siegel for lighting the path.

And to Karen Wilder, Joe Anson and Summer Gomez

for guiding me along the way.

and

in loving memory of

Cecilia Alvear

Bob Bergeron

Charles Romo

Coralee Harris

and

Angelina Sanz Gomez

For Papi

A NOTE TO THE READER

AS A TELEVISION JOURNALIST , the terms fast forward and rewind are familiar ones. They are used in the editing room to let an editor know where a particular shot can be found. In this memoir, I frequently use the terms to take the reader forward or backward in the narrative. They are also used to make a point or clarify how I was thinking at a particular moment in time.

The names and other characteristics of certain individuals in this memoir may have been changed or omitted. Some persons are referred to with only initials.

MATTERS OF THE SEA

The sea doesnt matter

What matters is this

We all belong to the sea between us, all of us

Once and still the same child

Who marvels over starfish

Listens to hollow shells,

Sculpts dreams into impossible sand castles.

Weve all been lovers holding hands

Strolling either of our shores

Our footprints,

Like a mirage of cells

Vanished in waves that dont know their birth

Or care on which country they break, they break

Bless us and return to the sea

Home to all our silent wishes.

No one is the other to the other to the sea

Whether on hemmed island or vast continent

Remember our grandfathers

Their hands dug deep

Into red or brown earth

Planting maple or mango trees that outlive them

Our grandmothers

Counting years while dusting photos of their weddings

Brittle family faces

Still alive on our dressers now.

"Matters of the Sea/Cosas del Mar" from Matters of the Sea/Cosas del mar by Richard Blanco, 2015.

Reprinted by permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press.

PROLOGUE

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

Nelson Mandela

NO ONE LIFE IS more interesting than another. Were all unique and have lived through experiences that others would find fascinating. Its the details of ones life that make us different. The lessons learned. The roads traveled. Ive been fortunate. As the son of immigrants from Cuba, I have lived in two worlds. Call me a Cubanito , but Im an Americanito , too. My parents shaped me. Because of them, I learned to appreciate our new country. They left Cuba for opportunity and a better life. They inspired in me a fierce drive to succeed. They worshipped the American dream, and they lived to see us achieve our own dreams.

Ive had a remarkable journey. Ive covered stories around the world. Ive had a grenade tossed my way in Nicaragua as the Somoza regime was about to crumble. I, along with my camera crew and producer, stared death in the face as government tanks rolled up a hill, their gunners pointing straight at us. I survived AIDS. I lived through a massive heart attack and quadruple bypass heart surgery. My heart was so damaged that tissue had to be grafted between my right and left ventricle. The surgeon told my brother to say his goodbyes. He wasnt sure Id come through the ordeal. But Im still here.

Others have no problem revealing the most intimate details of their private lives. But, as a journalist (and as someone who has always focused on learning what makes others tick), its scary to shine a light on ones own life. Is it an ego trip, or are there lessons here that could help others?

By the time I was twenty-six, I had covered civil wars where bombs were dropped on civilians. I saw bodies left burning in the streets, smoke rising in wispy columns, the smell left behind like burning tires.

I was told that I was the first Hispanic on-air correspondent to be hired by CBS News in 1979. That was four decades ago. Today there are dozens of Latino TV reporters on networks and local stations around the country. Id like to believe that in some small way, I helped pave the way for them. Although my early years as a network correspondent were often dangerous, I had a guardian angel at my side watching over me. At least thats what my mother assured me. Indeed, for as long as I could remember, a small illustration of a celestial being guiding two children across a bridge hung above my bed.

As a journalist, I met some well-known leaders along the way: Bill Clinton, Fidel Castro, Baby Doc Duvalier, Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza, Salvadoran president Jos Napolen Duarte, and Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos. I even interviewed Jamaican president Edward Seaga on Face the Nation when I was only twenty-five. Ive also encountered my fair share of celebrities: Bianca Jagger, Elizabeth Taylor, Chita Rivera and a host of others. But those luminaries were hardly the most memorable. Regular folk touched me the most. There was the seven-year-old girl at a Salvadoran orphanage who handed me a tiny doll made out of twigs as a gift. There was the wizened Miskito Indian matriarch on the Nicaraguan-Honduran border wailing for grandchildren gunned down by government troops. They were trying to escape across a river to freedom. And in my personal life, Ive been affected forever by the faces of my friends, visages etched in anguish as they waged war against a savage enemy: AIDS.

I was given a chance to live again. Now its time to help others. Whether working in a food pantry for the homeless, volunteering at a hospital or marching in the AIDS Walk, the life we live is only as rich as the lives we touch. In our narcissistic me-me-me world of Facebook postings, Twitter tweets and Instagram selfies, its time to redefine our lives. We can offer hope. We can light a path.

I hope this memoir will move you. Perhaps it will even inspire you. I overcame all that I did for a reason. Most of you have faced your own personal demons. What was the reason you overcame what you did and triumphed? My reason was to write this book and spur on others to galvanize, to influence and to impel in their own lives. All of us can do the same. We can make it our motivation, our lifes mission.

Im my parents son. A mother from Guines, Cuba, and a father from Havana. They fought to give my brother and me a better life in a new land. What is worth fighting for in your life? No te rindes , my mother would always tell me. (Dont give up.) And I didnt. Tenga fe , shed also say. (Have faith.) And I do.

I hold on to faith, and so should you. No matter how many times Ive fallen, Ive always gotten back up. Im standing now. Im a Cuban son.

Im a Cuban son rising.

CHAPTER 1

SHORTYS WORLD

Shorty Gomez, a tangle of frost-covered stainless steel pipes above his head, is surveying a busy scene. Chug-chug-chug-bang! Hssss! Shorty smiles.

Miami Herald , July 1984