Normando Hernández and I have a few things in common.
We are about the same age. He turned 38 this past Sunday, I am 40.
We both are journalists. We both love our work.
We both are Cubans. We both love our country.
But there is one big difference between us, a distinction that makes me unworthy of being mentioned in the same breath as him.
Normando Hernández, a political prisoner in Fidel Castro's dungeon, has balls of steel.
I may gripe about the long hours, and recalcitrant reporters who don't do exactly what their editor tells them. Some days, it's so much, I consider changing careers.
His work, if the world does not come to his rescue, may cost him his life.
But regardless of everything the dictatorship throws at him — and those are some truly cruel and awful things — and regardless of the toll it has taken on his body, remains committed to his profession.
To his cause.
To his country.
I only write about it, from the comfort of my home in America.
Hernández lives it, and one day, it may kill him.
There really is no comparison.
But as long as Hernández is alive, his sufferings are only making him stronger.
That's the truth. Hernández says so.
A new article, posted today at Bloomberg.com, offers some details on his poor medical condition — he is in a Cuban military hospital, suffering from tuberculosis and a myriad of other ailments. And describes international efforts, primarily in Costa Rica, to win his release.
It was one of the best English-language accounts, to date, of what this brave patriot has suffered. (I blogged about it earlier today at Babalú.)
The most revealing, the most inspiring part of the Bloomberg article were two paragraphs quoting a letter from Hernández recently smuggled out of Cuba:
"Friends who are familiar with what I have endured and continue to endure and with my precarious state of health might think I'm crazy or going mad upon hearing this declaration, but I assure you that's not the case,'' Gonzalez wrote. "In all truth, I am stronger than ever. The killers of free expression who imprisoned me 55 months ago haven't desisted for a single second from trying to destroy me physically and emotionally. They haven't achieved their goal, nor will they. Though they may destroy my physical body, the only thing they will accomplish is rendering immortal a spirit that prefers death over a life without decorum."I have endured months of isolation hundred of kilometers from my home, held in inhuman conditions, forced to sleep on top of reinforced concrete, without a mattress, cruelly exposed to mosquitoes, cold, and rats, and deprived of contact with any other human being, except for my jailer,'' he continued. "The direct and indirect provocations have never gone away, they come from all sides, from State Security agents, jailers, thugs, other prisoners, and lackeys, and the only thing these poor devils have accomplished is to reaffirm my idealism, my patriotism, and make me a slave of my own dignity.''
Obviously, none of us are worthy.
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