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Losing an Enemy

Cuba was my father’s first assignment with the CIA. He was young, only 26, when he began working at the Board of Estimates. His job was to monitor the intelligence on missile deployment in Cuba. “I watched the whole thing,” he said to me once, “saw the entire build up.” He joined the agency of his own volition in 1962. He had been working within the city manager’s office in San Antonio when he decided to fly to D.C. to interview with different agencies. The Cold War terrified him. “I thought the days of the US were numbered,” he said, “I really did.”

I traveled to Cuba for the first time last spring. As I walked the streets of Havana, my father haunted me. It felt taboo to be inside the country he had for so long considered ‘the enemy.’ At the same time, being in Cuba made me feel close to him. I think many children of spies feel this way. We feel close to our parent when we’re in the countries and places they were once assigned. His work at the CIA was more a calling than a job, and as a father, he was more absent than present. It’s not strange for me then to think of him acutely when I travel. That’s when I most feel his energy, his presence.

But Cuba was a place he never traveled to and yet I felt him there. He was a 1950s sort of person, a man who wore Brooks Brothers suits and horn rimmed glasses. Cuba feels locked in the 50s too, a place where old Chevrolets roar down avenues, passing faded, Cold War slogans that span buildings and billboards.

They say that the older generation of Cubans mourns the passing of Castro more than the young. Some say he is the only leader they have ever known. I wonder how Dad would have felt, if it would be odd for him, after so long, to finally lose his ‘enemy.’ Would it have felt, on some level, even bewildering? Then again, Dad was a practical person, someone who adapted readily to change, and there is no denying that change has now come. The future relationship between the United States and Cuba stretches out before us, long and uncertain. To me, it’s an opportunity. I wonder if Dad would agree.