Dear Ms. Fundichely,

Thank you so much for responding to my electronic mail. You obviously have strong values of forgiveness and were even so kind as to offer me comfort.

I think it is beautiful that you have a relative who is over 100 years old and also can remember our Cuban history. Your family has been wise to record her.

I studied journalism and among my writings was included studies of two slaves who lived in the South Florida area. I
studied at Florida International University. One slave lived on what is today Southwest 8th Street, by where that train station is close to Brickell Avenue, and another in Key West. They were described in the 1930s, when a writers' project was funded by the federal government to capture the last of the persons who had lived during slavery. Their lives were quite different, she a former house slave who had learned about the social values of plantation society, he became a cook aboard a vessel in Key West, travelling the world. In fact, the way he described it he was really kidnapped into the vessel, having cooking abilities, but in the end he became accustomed to life at sea. I wrote the essays for an African-American history class.

If it is not too forward, please give your relative a big hug for me. How beautiful that she survived so that others after her could also survive, and could live a better life!

My grandmother, Ursulina Hierrezuelo de Owen, was also descended from a man born into slavery. He was freed but during the Spanish-American war the Hierrezuelos had to hide to avoid capture, as freedom papers were apparently not worth much to the authorities. My grandmother taught me, very early on, by reading his journal, about slaves being sold and about the difficulties the Hierrezuelos underwent to survive away from society. But, it took me long to understand that, (as she would say), he did not think his masters were bad. They taught him to read and to write and I believe he also held a high self-esteem, as he had a choice to remain with the family as a servant but chose to suffer in the woods. He became an officer in the Liberation Army, and my mother remembers a military funeral with full honors.

I read a book by Jorge Amado recently, about Santa Barbara, in which a cantomble ritual began with thanks to the ancestors, who allowed the survival of the participants and their race. It left an impression on me, as strongly symbolic of how real is the legacy of the struggle which the slaves endured.

Now, hearing about your closeness with your history despite living in exile, that expression of gratitude has become vibrant in my mind and heart. I am so grateful to your family for keeping history alive. I try to keep in touch with my relatives, of late, because over the internet I can at least send messages.

I once had a friend tell me that he knew an Afro-Cuban named Owen, in Havana, but I could not understand how. Our family are mixed African, British, Spanish, but only the Owen women even used the name. My uncle spells it Oven --as you probably know the name was often mispelled that way-- so that his children are not even Owens.

I hope to hear from you again,
Ines