------------------------- Via Workers World News Service Reprinted from the Nov. 21, 2002 issue of Workers World newspaper -------------------------
PRISON VISIT WITH CUBAN HERO: LOMPOC IS LONG WAY FROM HAVANA By Alicia Jrapko and Bill Hackwell Lompoc, Calif. Like many prisons in California, the Federal Penitentiary in Lompoc is in an isolated area far from urban centers. It sits on agricultural land where crops and flowers once grew and cattle grazed. Fast-food chains and hotels today distinguish the town of Lompoc. The area around Lompoc is also known for Vandenburg Air Force Base. It is a sprawling military site from which the United States secretly launches intercontinental ballistic missiles to practice shooting down targets over the Pacific Ocean. Most family members visiting prisoners in Lompoc travel long distances and stay here in the town. The great majority happen to be poor. It is a sacrifice for them to come. Lompoc is not just one prison, but a complex of federal detention facilities that range from a minimal camp to a maximum-security prison. Gerardo Hernandez is imprisoned in the latter. It is a difficult place to find. It sits at the end of a road that goes no further. On our way to the prison we asked ourselves how it could be possible that five people who were fighting to prevent terrorist attacks against their country of Cuba were now languishing behind prison walls. When we approached the main gate a guard stopped us, speaking to us anonymously through a microphone from a tower. The guard asked us why we were there and what was in our car. Big warning signs spelled out all the things we could not bring onto the federal property. After we were allowed to park, we went to a waiting room where the authorities checked to make sure the background check on us had been approved. After that, we were required to complete individual forms and go through a screening and security process that included being stamped on the hand with invisible ink. Before we could get in, we had to leave everything, including paper and pens, in a locker. The only thing visitors to Lompoc prisoners can bring in are rolls of coins to be used to buy food from vending machines, and the desire to see their loved ones. As we waited in small groups between metal gates surrounded by rows of rolled razor wire, no one could forget where they were. The sound of the sliding door slamming behind us as we were allowed in made a hollow, definitive sound. We entered a big room where small tables were lined up in rows with family members on one side and prisoners on the other. There was no mistaking who is who. All the prisoners were in khaki uniforms. The great majority of people in that room were Black and Latino. Beneath each table there is a panel that prevents any touching. Personal contact is a gray zone at Lompoc, prohibited by prison rules, dictated by the guards in the room. We were assigned a table and waited for Gerardo to appear. It was not too long before the door opened and Gerardo almost bounced toward us. Despite the oppressive environment he welcomed us with an embrace as if we were entering his home. It was at that moment that we understood why he is considered a hero of the Cuban people. During the next five hours of casual conversation with Gerardo, we could not help but think that here was a son of the Cuban revolution and a follower of the example of Che Guevara. He remains a humble, sincere, generous and dignified human being who believes that a safer, better world is possible--even as he faces a double life sentence plus 80 months. The time flew by. Our talk ranged from our childhoods and our families, to current international politics and the possibility of war, to discussion about the work of the National Committee to Free the Five. Over and over, Gerardo expressed his gratitude to all the committees around the world that are helping in the struggle to free the five prisoners, and also to the people who send him and the others scores of letters every day. At 3 p.m. all the visitors had to leave the room and the prisoners were sent back to their cells. Loved ones embraced as we all said our goodbyes. It seemed like time stopped for a minute as everyone strained to remember the details of what the other looked like to store in memory until the next visit. Gerardo has not been afforded even this small moment of human contact with his wife. After granting a visa to Adriana to visit Gerardo in August the U.S. government, in a cruel and sadistic maneuver ,stopped her in Houston, interrogated her for hours, and then expelled her from the country. As we left, just before the door closed, Gerardo reminded us of his strength and determination as he smiled to us and clenched both fists. We left with the feeling that Gerardo as well as René, Ramón, Fernando and Antonio are political prisoners who do not belong behind bars. It is more imperative than ever to continue our work so that one day they can walk out to return to their homeland. [Alicia Jrapko and Bill Hackwell are members of the National Committee to Free the Five in San Francisco.] - END - (Copyright Workers World Service: Everyone is permitted to copy and distribute verbatim copies of this document, but changing it is not allowed. For more information contact Workers World, 55 W. 17 St., NY, NY 10011; via e-mail: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Subscribe [EMAIL PROTECTED] Unsubscribe [EMAIL PROTECTED] Support the voice of resistance http://www.workers.org/orders/donate.php) ------------------ This message is sent to you by Workers World News Service. To subscribe, E-mail to: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To unsubscribe, E-mail to: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To switch to the DIGEST mode, E-mail to <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Send administrative queries to <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
