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Out of the Humidor

CA Readers
From the Print Edition:
Kevin Bacon, May/Jun 00

(continued from page 2)

Dear Marvin,  

A friend of mine just returned to Canada from Cuba, where he spent a week's vacation with his girlfriend. Knowing that I devour as many cigars as I can get my hands on, he asked me if he could pick me up some while he was there. I said, "Wow! You're going to Cuba, my dream!" and handed him my copy of the June 1999 special Cuba issue of Cigar Aficionado.  

He arrived in Cuba early in January and entered Cuban customs. Asked for any reading material, he handed over my issue of Cigar Aficionado.  

On seeing the picture of Castro, lights, sirens and bells went off. Next thing my friend knew, he was surrounded by customs officials. They brought over a translator and looked over the magazine in its entirety. The only thing my friend was thinking was if I would be able to get another copy, because he thought my Cuba issue was gone for good.  

After an hour they released him, with my cherished copy, which has made it safely back home to Canada.  

Garth Wetherall
Burlington, Ontario

Dear Marvin,  

I recently remarked to my mother, "I wonder whatever happened to the Rovers Club?" A few days later my youngest son bought me the June 2001 Cigar Aficionado devoted to Cuba. You answered my query.  

We were one of the many American families living in Havana. Your magazine was a wonderful yet bittersweet trip down memory lane. We lived in Miramar and belonged to the Rovers Club when it was out in the country. My father's office was on Obispo Street and El Floridita was his watering hole--and so was The American Club. Every Fourth of July the American ambassador gave a party at the Hotel Nacional for the kids. We swam at Varadero beach and stayed at the Hotel Internacional.  

One evening, our family was dining at "The Yank" and Camilo Cienfuegos, later one of Fidel Castro's top generals, was sitting alone at a nearby table. My brother and I struck up a conversation with him. He showed us a balancing trick with a nickel and a Hatuey (Cuba's best beer). I was a bold teenage girl and asked him for his autograph. He gallantly obliged. I was sad when he "disappeared" into the mountains to fight in the revolution.  

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