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Yanisleydis Copello Rodriguez is seeking justice for the murderers of his father, shot after trying to leave the country.
By Zoé Valdés March 11, 2011
is the daughter of Lorenzo Enrique Copello Castillo, one of three black youths who were shot in 2003, soon after the Black Spring, after trying to leave the country in a boat. The girl complaint Independent and Democratic Cuba.
Yanisleydis Copello Rodriguez is seeking justice for the murderers of his father, shot after trying to leave the country.
By Zoé Valdés March 11, 2011
is the daughter of Lorenzo Enrique Copello Castillo, one of three black youths who were shot in 2003, soon after the Black Spring, after trying to leave the country in a boat. The girl complaint Independent and Democratic Cuba.
**************
migrate to the scaffold
A testimony of the last hours of Lorenzo Enrique Copello, the last shot the Castro regime.
By Ricardo González Alfonso, La Habana
Living in a cell with a condemned man is intricate maze of alien life that starts to belong, to grieve.
Lorenzo Enrique Copello, executed on April 11, 2003.
When they opened the door to the walled cell and for the first time I saw Lorenzo Enrique Copello Castillo, I never imagined it would be shot within a week after one of those summary judgments in the spring of 2003.
Lorenzo was a black-thirties, good-looking, walking lame from the beating given him when he was arrested at the Port of Mariel, west of Havana. Black shoes and slip bore traces of nitrate, and his eyes reflected the exhaustion of the castaways, the kind that still smell of the sea.
smile greeted us with a double: that of his lips and his eyes. He lay down and slept instantly with the immobility of the dead. My cellmates
-Chinese, a young man accused selling drugs, and a boy convicted of murder and involved in smuggling of migrants, we are disappointed. We knew by heart our respective stories and legends and a newcomer's expected release. In the dungeons of Villa Marista, national headquarters of State Security, no room to walk, and the only option, between questioning and interrogation, is to discuss any topic, not thinking.
In the morning we discovered that Lorenzo was a criollazo. He told us as he has a movie at midnight approached with several friends Baraguá the boat, one of those with passengers crossing the Bay of Havana. The group de piratas debutantes llevaba oculto en sus mochilas recipientes con combustible; y, además, contaban con un arsenal de desconsuelo: un revólver y un cuchillo. Lorenzo apoyaba su narración con mímica teatral. "Llegué hasta la cabina y disparé dos veces. Una contra la proa y otra al mar. Entonces grité: '¡Esto se jodió, nos vamos pa' Miami!'".
Al principio todo resultó a pedir de sueños. Entre los pasajeros habían dos extranjeras —magníficas piezas de cambio— acompañadas por un par de Rastafaris. En total, tenían una treintena de rehenes. La Bahía de La Habana quedaba atrás, y la embarcación se adentraba en el anchísimo Estrecho de la Florida. Lorenzo
closed his eyes to better enjoy his words. "Hey, since we were on the coast of Key West showing some posters that had made statements against communism, for Americans to give us political asylum." Lorenzo smiled like a child who remembers a prank. He opened his eyes, awakened from their dream adventure. His expression became an adult at risk.
We had always helped with his gestures Creole, how the sea-a sea-hysterical mood swings. Waterfalls imagined as continuous waves, the boat adrift at the mercy of sudden ups and downs and constant. Vi in the black face of the terror they felt those puppies sea-kidnappers and hostages to know that in this situation of fear he had run out of fuel, including reserve.
A Cuban coast guard approached. Through a megaphone, one of the guards threatened them to surrender. "But we, that's nothing. I said loudly that we had two foreign. That would give us fuel or the thing would end badly."
reached an agreement. The Coast Guard remolcaría to Baraguá to the Port of Mariel. There would provide what is necessary to reach the United States, in exchange for the hostages not hurt.
Lorenzo sought to put forward a smile of comfort, but erratic, gave a sad sigh. "It was a trap. Very near the pier, a diver from the Ministry of Interior beckoned foreign women to be thrown into the water. One of them pulled. I tried to prevent the other did the same, but a passenger "I later learned was a civil-military dress pushed me, I fell into the sea and lost the gun. Several men got caught frogs. In the water began to beat me. continued in the spring. My colleagues were also dominated.
"The thing was great. He came to Fidel. He told us that if we had gone in a few years ago we wanted to come back." Lorenzo moved
sure of his head negatively. "No way! I have done as my father, who spent half of prison life, but at 80, when the Mariel, he went to America, he changed his name, he studied and became an engineer. Yes I was going to do the same. After a Muñe reclaim my wife today, and Rorro, my daughter, who is the first marriage. "
Muñe-short for wrist-selling pizzas at home. Lorenzo was described as a Venus de Milo, but with arms, warm and candid. Speaking of black Muñe expression resembled that of a first-time lover.
But she, like Rorro, unaware that Lorenzo was living two lives parallel, and with this double life ran his personal labyrinth. He was a coin spinning in the air-to-face or cross, for better or worse. Lorenzo
worked alternate days as the custodian of a polyclinic in the municipality of Centro Habana. There, his attitude was exemplary, he assured us. But their days off were libertines. Was engaged in procurement and fraud. Sometimes this was exercised through gambling, others as a "guide" of inexperienced tourists.
"Once," he told us enthusiastically traveled to Pinar del Rio with a Frenchman. Aque life! He paid for everything: a rented apartment, good drink and best whores. There he met a Temba and stayed with her. I do not know what he saw. French was a good man. I always kind to him. Although he was very confident, I never took advantage of that. "He looked slyly adding," But for others ...! ".
Lorenzo On one occasion he said:" Ricardo, what a pity that you did for politics. With your looks and ease of words, you'd be a crook first.
Rorro also told us about. A cute teen who knew fend for itself. "It's like me, but honest." The nickname came about when she was a baby, because Lorenzo's mother sang to sleep: "A Rorro my girl, my love Rorro." The girl was studying high school in Miramar, a division of the former-and current-upper class. "Daddy, there are funny cars, funny people dress, the houses are comical. In short, the Miramar is a comedy."
Lorenzo the day you received the prosecutor's request, told the guard that served the food: "Give me more, why I am a penalty of death." And he laughed. But after a while we looked serious and said softly, almost to, "Who would have said, I forward a penalty of 30 years!". Lorenzo returned to the trial
very optimistic. "My lawyer said he would ask how your blood, if not shed a drop of blood. "And he repeated these words each time, with the fervor that invokes a dying God.
also told us:" You're not going to believe, but I was more afraid when I saw the trial video boat up and down at the raging sea, that when I was there mismito, jugándome life. "
That night we took office. In the four separately. When my turn came, a captain told me that although Lorenzo demanded the death penalty did not mean it would be shot. "But," remarked the officer, some sentenced to death despair and commit suicide by choice, because the penalty is not upheld by the Supreme Court or the Council of State. "This argument
requested my cooperation to prevent, if necessary, that Lorenzo was seeking his life. I agreed. Later I learned that my other two cellmates asked the same thing. Never I knew Lorenzo told.
Since then boarded door window was kept open, and outside, a police remained on duty.
The next day morning came for Lorenzo. He came back very happy. "The Security State brought in a car Rorro, it's mom and my mother. I was told the clinic director was going to write to the Council of State talking to my good work attitude. " Soon he came back.
Left alone, the Chinese, the other boy and I commented that this visit was the final farewell. The political police, and the other-not used to bring our family to visit us. We were wrong. It was not the last farewell, but the penultimate. Lorenzo returned
happy. Two officers went to look for MUNE and had a visit with her. If desired, my cellmates and I looked dismayed. We realized that Lorenzo would be executed soon.
That evening the food was different from the usual: half chicken, rice with Moors, salad, snack, dessert and drink. Lorenzo suspected. "Middle chicken for everyone? ". The Catcher reassured him saying they had brought so many chickens that did not fit in the refrigerators, and all detainees they were serving the same ration. Lorenzo believed-or pretended to believe him," was his last meal.
Hours later, Lorenzo felt a pain in the chest. I informed the guard. They took him immediately to the medical post. He returned after a while. He assured us that he felt better after I injected. I was sleepy. obviously drugged. After a few minutes slept again with the immobility of the dead. I remembered the night I met him. Just-and penalties-had spent a week.
would be midnight when they opened the door. In the hallway I saw six guards. One came in and woke Lorenzo. He got up dazed. It clumsily shod their shoes without laces. He looked at me wondering: "What?". I explained with a look. I gave him a pat on the shoulder, and saw him from death.
A testimony of the last hours of Lorenzo Enrique Copello, the last shot the Castro regime.
By Ricardo González Alfonso, La Habana
Living in a cell with a condemned man is intricate maze of alien life that starts to belong, to grieve. Lorenzo Enrique Copello, executed on April 11, 2003.
When they opened the door to the walled cell and for the first time I saw Lorenzo Enrique Copello Castillo, I never imagined it would be shot within a week after one of those summary judgments in the spring of 2003.
Lorenzo was a black-thirties, good-looking, walking lame from the beating given him when he was arrested at the Port of Mariel, west of Havana. Black shoes and slip bore traces of nitrate, and his eyes reflected the exhaustion of the castaways, the kind that still smell of the sea.
smile greeted us with a double: that of his lips and his eyes. He lay down and slept instantly with the immobility of the dead. My cellmates
-Chinese, a young man accused selling drugs, and a boy convicted of murder and involved in smuggling of migrants, we are disappointed. We knew by heart our respective stories and legends and a newcomer's expected release. In the dungeons of Villa Marista, national headquarters of State Security, no room to walk, and the only option, between questioning and interrogation, is to discuss any topic, not thinking.
In the morning we discovered that Lorenzo was a criollazo. He told us as he has a movie at midnight approached with several friends Baraguá the boat, one of those with passengers crossing the Bay of Havana. The group de piratas debutantes llevaba oculto en sus mochilas recipientes con combustible; y, además, contaban con un arsenal de desconsuelo: un revólver y un cuchillo. Lorenzo apoyaba su narración con mímica teatral. "Llegué hasta la cabina y disparé dos veces. Una contra la proa y otra al mar. Entonces grité: '¡Esto se jodió, nos vamos pa' Miami!'".
Al principio todo resultó a pedir de sueños. Entre los pasajeros habían dos extranjeras —magníficas piezas de cambio— acompañadas por un par de Rastafaris. En total, tenían una treintena de rehenes. La Bahía de La Habana quedaba atrás, y la embarcación se adentraba en el anchísimo Estrecho de la Florida. Lorenzo
closed his eyes to better enjoy his words. "Hey, since we were on the coast of Key West showing some posters that had made statements against communism, for Americans to give us political asylum." Lorenzo smiled like a child who remembers a prank. He opened his eyes, awakened from their dream adventure. His expression became an adult at risk.
We had always helped with his gestures Creole, how the sea-a sea-hysterical mood swings. Waterfalls imagined as continuous waves, the boat adrift at the mercy of sudden ups and downs and constant. Vi in the black face of the terror they felt those puppies sea-kidnappers and hostages to know that in this situation of fear he had run out of fuel, including reserve.
A Cuban coast guard approached. Through a megaphone, one of the guards threatened them to surrender. "But we, that's nothing. I said loudly that we had two foreign. That would give us fuel or the thing would end badly."
reached an agreement. The Coast Guard remolcaría to Baraguá to the Port of Mariel. There would provide what is necessary to reach the United States, in exchange for the hostages not hurt.
Lorenzo sought to put forward a smile of comfort, but erratic, gave a sad sigh. "It was a trap. Very near the pier, a diver from the Ministry of Interior beckoned foreign women to be thrown into the water. One of them pulled. I tried to prevent the other did the same, but a passenger "I later learned was a civil-military dress pushed me, I fell into the sea and lost the gun. Several men got caught frogs. In the water began to beat me. continued in the spring. My colleagues were also dominated.
"The thing was great. He came to Fidel. He told us that if we had gone in a few years ago we wanted to come back." Lorenzo moved
sure of his head negatively. "No way! I have done as my father, who spent half of prison life, but at 80, when the Mariel, he went to America, he changed his name, he studied and became an engineer. Yes I was going to do the same. After a Muñe reclaim my wife today, and Rorro, my daughter, who is the first marriage. "
Muñe-short for wrist-selling pizzas at home. Lorenzo was described as a Venus de Milo, but with arms, warm and candid. Speaking of black Muñe expression resembled that of a first-time lover.
But she, like Rorro, unaware that Lorenzo was living two lives parallel, and with this double life ran his personal labyrinth. He was a coin spinning in the air-to-face or cross, for better or worse. Lorenzo
worked alternate days as the custodian of a polyclinic in the municipality of Centro Habana. There, his attitude was exemplary, he assured us. But their days off were libertines. Was engaged in procurement and fraud. Sometimes this was exercised through gambling, others as a "guide" of inexperienced tourists.
"Once," he told us enthusiastically traveled to Pinar del Rio with a Frenchman. Aque life! He paid for everything: a rented apartment, good drink and best whores. There he met a Temba and stayed with her. I do not know what he saw. French was a good man. I always kind to him. Although he was very confident, I never took advantage of that. "He looked slyly adding," But for others ...! ".
Lorenzo On one occasion he said:" Ricardo, what a pity that you did for politics. With your looks and ease of words, you'd be a crook first.
Rorro also told us about. A cute teen who knew fend for itself. "It's like me, but honest." The nickname came about when she was a baby, because Lorenzo's mother sang to sleep: "A Rorro my girl, my love Rorro." The girl was studying high school in Miramar, a division of the former-and current-upper class. "Daddy, there are funny cars, funny people dress, the houses are comical. In short, the Miramar is a comedy."
Lorenzo the day you received the prosecutor's request, told the guard that served the food: "Give me more, why I am a penalty of death." And he laughed. But after a while we looked serious and said softly, almost to, "Who would have said, I forward a penalty of 30 years!". Lorenzo returned to the trial
very optimistic. "My lawyer said he would ask how your blood, if not shed a drop of blood. "And he repeated these words each time, with the fervor that invokes a dying God.
also told us:" You're not going to believe, but I was more afraid when I saw the trial video boat up and down at the raging sea, that when I was there mismito, jugándome life. "
That night we took office. In the four separately. When my turn came, a captain told me that although Lorenzo demanded the death penalty did not mean it would be shot. "But," remarked the officer, some sentenced to death despair and commit suicide by choice, because the penalty is not upheld by the Supreme Court or the Council of State. "This argument
requested my cooperation to prevent, if necessary, that Lorenzo was seeking his life. I agreed. Later I learned that my other two cellmates asked the same thing. Never I knew Lorenzo told.
Since then boarded door window was kept open, and outside, a police remained on duty.
The next day morning came for Lorenzo. He came back very happy. "The Security State brought in a car Rorro, it's mom and my mother. I was told the clinic director was going to write to the Council of State talking to my good work attitude. " Soon he came back.
Left alone, the Chinese, the other boy and I commented that this visit was the final farewell. The political police, and the other-not used to bring our family to visit us. We were wrong. It was not the last farewell, but the penultimate. Lorenzo returned
happy. Two officers went to look for MUNE and had a visit with her. If desired, my cellmates and I looked dismayed. We realized that Lorenzo would be executed soon.
That evening the food was different from the usual: half chicken, rice with Moors, salad, snack, dessert and drink. Lorenzo suspected. "Middle chicken for everyone? ". The Catcher reassured him saying they had brought so many chickens that did not fit in the refrigerators, and all detainees they were serving the same ration. Lorenzo believed-or pretended to believe him," was his last meal.
Hours later, Lorenzo felt a pain in the chest. I informed the guard. They took him immediately to the medical post. He returned after a while. He assured us that he felt better after I injected. I was sleepy. obviously drugged. After a few minutes slept again with the immobility of the dead. I remembered the night I met him. Just-and penalties-had spent a week.
would be midnight when they opened the door. In the hallway I saw six guards. One came in and woke Lorenzo. He got up dazed. It clumsily shod their shoes without laces. He looked at me wondering: "What?". I explained with a look. I gave him a pat on the shoulder, and saw him from death.
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