A new generation of Cubans is dying in the Florida Straits in a bid to flee a brutally repressive regime — and poverty, too. They’re bedfellows.
A trail of makeshift rafts and rickety boats dots high seas. A superman rides a surfboard some 90+ miles to the Keys. And, at the U.S. border with Mexico, a jam-packed queue of people asking for political asylum replaces the long wait for rationed food at the government-owned bodega in Cuba.
Desperate Cubans in risky flight — they are new protagonists in an old, sad story, a 63-year-old story that no longer stirs emotions in this country. But it should, especially given the rightful passion and outrage with which Americans are defending Ukraine.
