Gonzalo
Sep30

Gonzalo

He was always cheerful, making jokes about almost everything, although his life had not been easy. Easy going, at work he was a good team player. I was many times the target of his jokes at the newsroom. At the beginning I didn’t know how to take it. But soon I didn’t care. I answered with more jokes. We shared many laughs. We become good friends. He was married and he had a six month baby who was his treasure. He was proud of his boy...

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Goal!

When I was a student of journalism I began to work as an intern In a local newspaper. Nobody took me seriously. I was 17 and I was a woman. There were not so many women journalists working on the streets back then. I remember that when my boss sent me to make an interview or collect some info with a photographer, despite I was the one asking questions and taking notes, everybody talked to the photographer instead than with me....

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The radical and the bus
Sep30

The radical and the bus

My first year at the University in Spain was really interesting. It was 1976. Franco had died just a year before. The country was evolving into a democracy after 40 years of dictatorship. There were meetings and assemblies, the new political parties were in their beginnings, there were strikes and disorders. Our campus (a beautiful garden by the way) was pretty quiet. Situated in the outskirts of the city, there was only one line of...

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The way you wear your hat
Sep30

The way you wear your hat

The way he wore his hat, the way he spoke with a gentle irony when someone challenged him, the way he gazed with his blue eyes that had seen so much suffering in his young years, the way he moved, calmly, the way he smiled, made him one of the most elegant men I met in my life. And he was mine. My dad. I would like to say like the old song: The memory of all that No, no they can’t take that away from me No, they can’t take that away...

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The last song
Sep29

The last song

He had had a nice tenor voice and he was still madly in love. He had learned many love songs for his wife. Also when a cruel war forcibly separated them for a long time. And of course, when they managed to cross the borders and got together again. He had wandered thru Europe and learned many languages to sing his love. I was with him in the hospital one sunny morning. He knew he was dying. His blue eyes were closed most of the time....

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The wedding
Sep29

The wedding

My parents got married in Zagreb (Croatia) the 22nd November of 1943 in an almost empty church during a bombing. My dad wrote in his diary how when they were approaching the altar an enthusiastic Franciscan played the organ. The solemn chords of Mendelssohn’s wedding march, were overcome now and then by the thunderous explosions of the bombs falling in the southern quarter of the city where several planes were trying to destroy a...

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