A visit to Cuba

In late 2014 one topic that seems to be very important to our leaders in Washington is the new stance we have taken with the Raul Castro government in Cuba. After some 61 years of very poor relations with the Cuban government there are now real overtures to reach for better, more normal ties between the United States and Cuba. While this, as with most of Washington proposals these days, has been met with scorn as well as cheers, it appears that one thing is sure -- our relationship with Cuba seems destined to be different from what it has been for the last more than half a century. All this talk of Cuba brought to mind a friend of mine, a fellow who found travel to Cuba to be very stimulating, even at the height of the US troubles with Cuba.

I used to have a baker friend in Lincoln by the name of Ed Klein. For many years the Klein family had a bakery, grocery store, liquor store, apartment houses, and who knows how many other projects, on the south side of Lincoln's downtown business district, west of the Capitol. Ed was the oldest of the Klein kids, and as the eldest son, ended up as the senior partner in the Klein Enterprises. When I became acquainted with the family, Ed, in addition to his involvement in the other family enterprises, was the king pin of the Klein bakery (although his mother, by then in her 80s, still managed the retail sales part of the bakery, and reported for a full day's work at the bakery -- every day!

For some years, in the 1960s and '70s Ed attained a certain notoriety, locally, and even nationally, through a story in a Chicago newspaper, because of his uncanny resemblance to Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger -- "The Bakery Diplomat in Nebraska." Kissinger had been appointed Secretary of State by President Nixon, and continued to serve in that capacity in the Gerald Ford White House. In 1973 he received the Nobel Peace Prize for his part in settling peace proposals with North Vietnam. During those years I believe that Ed relished his "15 minutes of fame," when so many people referred to him as "Kissinger."

Ed and I served together on the Board of the Nebraska Retail Bakers Association, and from that association we developed a friendship. I found Ed to be a fascinating colleague in the bakers' association. He was imaginative, aggressive, yet surprisingly easy to get along with. He kept the Board busy with fresh ideas that were, more often than not, helpful to our businesses. (Jean, and most of the other wives, never cared for Ed because of his coarse speech. Even in polite conversation his remarks were laced with profanities.) Maybe, the ladies' reactions to Ed's ways were universal, because soon after I met him, Ed's wife left him, leaving him free to pursue other, non-romantic, interests.

In addition to Ed's entrepreneurial projects and Lincoln real estate, Ed thirsted for more adventurous pursuits. For years he flew his own plane. McCook was one of his regular stops, on the way to Denver, or Rapid City, or Cheyenne, or wherever He seemed to be forever on his way to someplace, "just for the hell of it." So during those years we got to see Ed quite often.

In 1980, the United States Government, as a means of protesting the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan, boycotted the Summer Olympics in Moscow. Ed did not have a great love of Track and Field, but he did resent anyone telling him what he could and could not do. Accordingly, he jumped at the chance to witness those games in Moscow, and immediately made his reservations for the trip to Russia. Later, he confessed that the games were a bit of a let-down. He never could decide for whom he should cheer. "But tickets were cheap, and easy to get."

Sometime in the 1980s Jean and I were on a vacation trip to Mexico. We were in the Mexico City Airport, waiting for our plane to Acapulco. We were just entering the coffee shop when a booming voice rang out across the concourse, "Hey, Sehnert, what the hell are you doing in Mexico?" Of course, it was Ed. I was surprised to see him, but I guess I should not have been. Ed was apt to show up anywhere.

For the next hour, over several cups of coffee, while we awaited our flights, Ed filled us in on what he'd been doing in Lincoln and just how he also happened to be in Mexico City.

Somehow, Ed had learned of a way around the US tourist ban of trips to Cuba. According to Ed, all you needed to do was embark from a point outside the USA, in his case, Mexico, and join up with a tour to Cuba. "Yes," I countered, "But aren't you afraid that something might happen and you could lose your passport -- and if that happened Uncle Sam would not be much inclined to come to your rescue. Doesn't that bother you?"

Ed didn't seem to be much concerned over what might happen. He pointed out that there were several other Americans in his tour group, who would be in the same boat, and he thought they would all be OK. Fortunately, he proved to be right and after five days in Cuba he came home, safe and sound, with a wealth of new stories. But before he left us that day, to join his tour group, he offered one more suggestion, "Why don't you two come along. I'm sure we have room in our group and we'll have a ball."

I must admit, his offer was indeed tempting. I drooled a bit over what a trip to Cuba might be like, then moved on. I knew Jean would have no part in such a trip, which was not sanctioned by our government (I didn't even bother to ask her.) Our time was limited and besides, our plans were already made.) Instead, I shook hands with Ed, wished him well, and hoped for the best for him on his trip.

My interest in Cuba began when I was reading the Ernest Hemmingway books. Hemmingway loved Cuba and for years had a home there. He liked the Cuban people, and he liked the sea. It was in Cuba that he wrote his classic, "The Old Man and the Sea." In many of his writings he described places and events so invitingly, that Cuba was an attractive tourist destination for me.

One other time I was drawn to Cuba. In 1953, I had been recently discharged from the Army, and before I got serious about the working world, Jean and I took a leisurely tour of the Southern States, stopping for some three weeks in New Orleans, where I worked to replenish our meager funds -- then, on to Florida, all the way to Key West, at the tip of the Florida Keys.

In Key West we wandered into a Travel Agency. It happened that the Agency had a bargain tour of Cuba. Fulgencio Batista, the Cuban Dictator had recently returned to power in Cuba and he had a campaign to attract tourists to his island. As part of the Batista program the Travel Agency was offering a whale of a deal -- "A Three-day stay in Cuba, including airfare (both ways) -- all for $80." Where could you ever find a better deal than that? However, even $80 was more than we could afford. Cuba would have to wait for another time when we were more flush.

But how could we know then what was to come to pass? The Batista regime turned out to be corrupt, opening the way for another Dictator, Fidel Castro, to come to power, which he did, in 1958, making tourist trips to Cuba extremely difficult for Americans.

A few months after our meeting in Mexico City I had a chance to visit Ed in Lincoln and he told me about his trip to Cuba. He'd had a wonderful time. "It was like stepping back in time. All the cars were American, but no later than the mid-'50s.) The weather had been perfect, the food and rum drinks were excellent, the people were friendly, and he had felt no anxiety at all during his trip.

Alas, now it has been 61 years since that time in Key West, and more than 30 since that time I Mexico City. The doors to Cuban excursions are again opening for American tourists. We can only hope that our present overtures to the Castro Dictatorship will bring more favorable relations with Cuba, without the dire consequences that some have predicted. We lost Ed a few years ago -- he died at home in Lincoln, from "natural causes. But I am sure of one thing. If Ed Klein were still around today he would be first in line for his ticket to Havana.