My family (my girlfriend Jennifer and her dad included) got there at about 3:50. The march itself was scheduled to start at 6, but they were asking us to get there by 5. Thanks to an old friend of my dad who owns a small apartment near 8th Street (where it all took place) we got parking right near everything, which was great cause the streets were closed and there was no parking anywhere. When we started walking towards the scene I can’t begin to describe how I felt. There were crowds of white eveywhere. For a second I felt like we were taking part in an actual Damas demonstration in Cuba. Nearly everyone had either white flowers or flags, or both. We didn’t have flowers (yet) but we were equipped with three flags and Jennifer, in representation of her country, sported her Venezuela hat.
The activity itself was PLANNED to start on 27th ave and go down to 22nd. Upon arriving there, thats actually what seemed to be organized. There was a crowd of a countless amount of people behind some rails waiting to be the first in line for the march. However, we Cubans don’t do too well with instructions and when the masses started pouring in there were people EVERYWHERE… including at the end point of the march, as well as behind the already huge crowd that was there, in the middle, to the sides, in the alleys, everywhere!!! The cops gave up on trying to throw everyone to the back, partly because no one really listened, and the other half because we just wouldn’t FIT. My dad, of course, bumped into lots of his friends and former fellow prisoners. Enrique Encinosa was there as well.
I wish you guys could have been there; it was amazing. You know what the best part was? Everyone was one. I don’t think I have seen all these people together in one place, atleast not in such numbers, and not in any recent times. All the organizations were there… side by side, those who have favored a US-Democratic view, and those who have favored the Republicans. Both of them, no arguments, walking together, waving flags and marching for one same reason. The next great part: just as there were thousands of older people/generations, there were also thousands of young people. There were entire FAMILIES. There was a nursing home where all the windows were open and the bottom floors were full of older people who, despite their age, sat outside, dressed in white, waving their flags with smiles on their faces. It was a mixture of wheelchairs and baby strollers, grandparents and grandkids, Cubans and non-Cubans, it was really Miami as one, like Gloria Estefan said.

The march was supposed to be silent, but, as I’m sure you both know, trying to keep a group of Cubans silent for more than approximately 15 seconds is, well, one of life’s toughest tasks. Haha. There was no music, that’s true, but the shouts of “CUBA LIBRE”, “LIBERTAD, LIBERTAD”, “ABAJO FIDEL”, “VIVA ZAPATA”, “VIVA LAS DAMAS DE BLANCO”, and “LIBERTAD PARA LOS PRESOS POLITICOS”, amongst many other sounds. The air smelled of Cuban coffee. The mood had its touch of solemnness- with signs commemorating deceased political prisoners, photos of las Damas being harassed, signs of Biscet, etc. etc. but there was an even stronger feeling of hope, unity, and in some sense, there was an even a mood of happiness that we were all together. It was pure solidarity, and it was all for Cuba.
That huge sea of white start marching a few minutes after 6 —but there were so many people that it wasn’t a continuous flow of marching…. we would move, stop, and move a little more, and so on and so forth. People from the front ended in the back, people from the back came up closer, people were entering from the sides, it was massive. Cuban and American flags waved proudly in front of us and behind us. Other flags- Venezuelan, Colombian, Puerto Rican, Chilean, Argentinan, Dominican, Honduran, Spanish, Italian, Paraguayan, and even an African one that I could not name, joined in the sea of diversity. Above us, four helicopters were filming. People stood on roofs either waving flags or taking pictures. Up in the sky a plane flew by with a banner that read “Freedom for the Political Prisoners”. One image that sticks in my mind is that of a lady holding up a sign with the name of a political prisoner, recently deceased. I’m not sure who he was but he was young, about 30 or 40 years old, and so was she. As she held her sign up, the masive crowd began to tell her messages of hope. “Rest in peace”, “Thank you”, “It wasn’t in vain”, “Freedom!”. She started to cry and couldn’t stop herself…but she was smiling at the same time.
Around that same area, all the celebrities, Las Damas in exile and their families, politicans, news-casters, etc. etc., led by the Estefans, emerged from a corner. They joined the crowd. They walked by us and people began cheering. Not because it was about the stars, but because of the symbolism. These people have used their “celebrity status” to do this. And here they were, just marching alongside us, like they said they would. At one point, we walked right next to Marisela Verena (whom we recently saw in concert) and she started talking to us. About a block done, Olga Guillot, the Queen of Bolero, joined the crowd.

She is about 80-something and she can’t walk that much, but between frequent breaks, she managed to. The crowd became emotional and started chanting “Olga”. It was just incredible… but then we continued our slogans for Las Damas, the prisoners, etc.
We finally reached the point we could’nt walk anymore. The front of the crowd had reached the stage—everyone stood, flags in the air. From where we were I could see some of the end-stage. The famous people began getting up there according to when they reached it. The Estefans, Las Damas, and some radio hosts were the first to get there. Gloria Estefan spoke. A priest gave a moving mini-sermon, and we all went into prayer. For the first time all day it was actually silent. The sun was already falling, and everything glowed a dark orange. There was a calming wind and the flags hung silently over the crowd. I have been to a few masses lately dedicated to prisoners and Las Damas and others, but none of them compared to this. Afterwards, Gloria spoke again. The speech was perfect. She let us know that the Damas were marching in Cuba at that very moment and that we were with them. They were being harassed, but we were there with them somehow. While tens of people screamed at them, we thousands chanted with them. She also let us know that the Amaya family was violently being attacked. We wish we could have stopped it, we were desperate, but we were doing our part. Everything was worth it. Olga Guillot finally made it to the stage, she gave a very emotional speech. People cheered, people cried, people laughed, people remained serious, emotions were just shooting up everywhere. The exiled Damas stood proudly on stage.
Later on, on TV I heard Laura Pollán speak about the event. It was a video from Havana. As she marched she thanked US, and she meant it. She was emotional. This was all very much worth it.
Miami needed this —people were united, and many of those who had lost after so many years were once again inspired. Young people marched along their parents and their grandparents- clearly raising the message that we, the new generation, care. And that we won’t stay quiet. For me personally, it was beyond moving. My grandmother recently passed away and really, I felt like I was marching for her too–better yet, I felt like she was there. But moreso, Cuba needed this. We’re here for them. We marched for the Damas, for Zapata, for Farinas, for all the political prisoners, for the bloggers, for the Cuban people, for a free future. And today, in Spain, there will be another march. From what I have understood there is another in LA on Sunday. Wherever it is, people are coming together. People are starting to have hope again… we never quiet gave up on it. As for estimates… I’ve heard “over 100,000 people showed up”. Its really more than just about politics —in fact its not about politics— its about life, family, culture, love, just really everything.

Raúl García
Miami