Stories and Essays from the Journey

Three Encounters, by Everett Gill

Introduction

Oakhurst Baptist Church’s sister church relationship with the Alamar congregation is not our first encounter with Cubans.  There have been two other significant interactions with Cubans, both dating from the revolution, and one of which helped to shape Oakhurst as we know it today.

Refugees from the Revolution

In 1962 Oakhurst Baptist Church was a fairly typical white suburban middle class Southern church when we voted to sponsor a family of refugees who were fleeing Fidel Castro’s revolution in Cuba. There were already some 90,000 Cuban refugees crowded into Miami by then, and more were on the way. The cooperation of churches was critical to finding all those refugees a place to live, working through bureaucratic red tape, helping with English lessons, and finding the employment that would enable families to make it on their own.

The entire congregation joined the effort, finding and cleaning apartments, collecting furniture and food, and providing transportation. Other refugees followed that first family and soon the church gained a reputation as a practical resource for Spanish speaking people in the area.  Spanish accents became a familiar part of our worship services and Sunday School classes.  In time, the Spanish speakers requested a separate Sunday morning worship in the “language of one’s soul,” and a Spanish language congregation eventually developed.

In Struggle For Integrity, his book about Oakhurst in the 1960’s, Walker Knight characterized the inclusion of Cuban refugees in the life of the church: “This effort shattered the homogeneity of our congregation and brought a richness to the life and worship of our church. Waves set in motion by the revolutionary takeover in Cuba were directly responsible for this diversity,”wrote Knight.

Openness to Christians who speak another language, and from another country and culture, exposed us to the truth that the church is a place of open doors. This first step was a crack in the door that opened wider as the church progressively became a fellowship that included blacks, then women deacons, ordained women, and gays and lesbians. Open membership has become a hallmark of our life together.

The Marielitos

Cuba soon restricted travel out of the country, but in 1980 Fidel Castro allowed Cubans to leave freely. From the harbor at Mariel they sailed to South Florida by the thousands.  For the most part these “Marielitos” were absorbed easily into the existing Cuban-American community, where many had family members. At some point the Immigration and Naturalization Service began arresting those who had broken even state and local law in the slightest, including some who had already paid local penalties. They were detained in the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary for years, without access to hearings or attorneys.

Their cause was taken by the Atlanta Legal Aid Society with the help of several members of Oakhurst Baptist Church, notably Sally Sandidge and Carla Dudeck, who spent long hours researching cases and meeting with detainees in the prison. A. B. Short and Buddy Gill served with an informal steering committee that included the Catholic Archdiocese and the ACLU.  They and many Oakhurst members demonstrated in front of the penitentiary on Sunday afternoons in support of the detainees.  Detainee frustrations came to a head in 1987 when they took over parts of the penitentiary and burned one of the buildings.  There were several tense days before serious negotiations finally got underway. When a peaceful resolution was at hand, the detainees insisted that Carla be present for the conclusion. (She is now married to one of the Marielitos and lives in Florida.)

A remarkable thing happened during Oakhurst's trip to Havana in November, 2006.  On the final day Buddy Gill walked down to see an interesting park that was created on a vacant street corner by the occupants of an apartment building.  He wrote in his diary:

“I got into conversation with a couple of guys who work with the city pest control department. One in particular was pleased to know that I was from the US. He said he had lived in NY and in Georgia, then Michigan.  The fact that he had lived in Georgia and was back in Cuba was too much of a coincidence, so I cautiously asked if he was a “Marielito.” He was surprised that I knew anything about it and rattled off his prisoner number and his INS number for me.  The details spilled out. He knew Carla and Sally and remembered the marches we used to have in front of the Pen on Sunday afternoons.  He talked about the riot in 1987 and he remembered the Hispanic bishop coming up from Miami, and the particulars of the final negotiations.

“His story was that he was on probation from drunk driving in NY and somehow broke the probation and was sent to Atlanta.  After he got out he went to Michigan, then was re-arrested and sent to prison in Alabama, and finally deported to Cuba. His wife left him while he was in prison.  He has a 24-year-old son and said he hopes his son will soon be able to visit. I took a picture. I wish I had made arrangements to meet with him later, but I was so stunned by the coincidence that I wasn’t thinking straight.”