A Cuban Jew in the Big Apple: My Family’s Journey to Safety

My name is Leon Perez, and I’m 79 years old. If you grew up in Cuba in the 1950s like me, you witnessed many historic events unfold before your eyes.

A newlywed Frank Sinatra honeymooned on the island, Ernest Hemingway wrote his Pulitzer Prize-winning The Old Man and the Sea from his villa on the outskirts of Havana, and the island imported many of the classic, colorful vehicles from Ford, Cadillac, and Chevrolet that continue to transport people today.

Amid the cultural and economic boom that the island was experiencing, however, were rising political tensions that would soon change the lives of many — including Cuba’s Jewish population.

In the 1950s, Cuba had a thriving Jewish community. We were a population of over 25,000 Jewish people from all over the world — from places such as Greece, Syria, Russia, Turkey, Spain, and Egypt.

However, everything changed after the Cuban Revolution of 1959 and Fidel Castro’s rise to power.

Many Jewish people, my family included, who had experienced persecution before, became terrified they would experience it again.

Our Jewish Life in Cuba

My father was of Turkish origin but never told us whether he was born in Turkey or Cuba. My mother was also of Turkish descent.

Our family played an important role in the consolidation of the Jewish community in Havana. As the community began to grow throughout the 1930s and 1940s, my father opened a small Hebrew school. He also established a business school called La Comercial. This school was designed to teach entrepreneurship skills to people from the Jewish community who had recently arrived in Cuba, enabling them to earn a living and survive.

He met my mother at this school, and they later married in Havana.

After a few years of running La Comercial, my father responded to requests from community members for a school where their children could study and learn about Jewish values and culture.

In 1950, he opened the first-ever Hebrew school for children on the island, called the Albert Einstein Institute.

My father was always looking out for others. If someone from the community couldn’t afford the full school fees, he would let them attend regardless. He also welcomed non-Jewish children to teach them the value of diversity.

A Revolution and a Flight to Safety

My parents invested so much in the Jewish community in Cuba, they never imagined they would have to uproot their lives once more to seek safety abroad.

However, when Fidel Castro came to power in 1959, many Jewish people on the island became fearful. The new Cuban government reminded them of the suffering Jewish communities had experienced in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe: forced displacement, massacres, and expulsions.

As a consequence, around 95% of the Jewish population left the island during this period of history.

Thousands of Cuban Jews started contacting HIAS to plan their journeys to safety in the United States. My parents got in touch with HIAS via letters and began making arrangements for my brother and me to travel to Miami, Florida. I was only 15 years old at the time, and my brother was 12.

I don’t know how our plane tickets came into my parents’ possession, but eventually, they did. In 1961, my brother and I left the island. We stopped three times on our way to Miami: first in Jamaica, then in Aruba, and finally in Curaçao before reaching the U.S.

I don’t remember every part of the journey, but I recall that in Curaçao, we lived in a house owned by people affiliated with HIAS who were helping Cuban refugees. We stayed in that house for 10 days while HIAS organized everything for our travel to the U.S.

HIAS then took us from Curaçao to Miami, where another family took us in, and we lived with them.

My parents, still in Cuba and making arrangements to reunite with us, were concerned about my brother and me feeling isolated in Miami. They requested that HIAS transfer us to the home of a family in New York, close to a cousin of my mother. HIAS made it happen.

We stayed with a Jewish family who welcomed us with love. I still remember the sweet bubbe of the family, who made us matzo ball soup.

A Family Reunion and a New Beginning

Six months later, in July 1961, my parents left Cuba with HIAS’s support. They had a stopover in Jamaica, where they stayed for some time in a communal house. After that, they finally arrived in New York, and we were reunited.

HIAS provided us with funds to find somewhere to live in New York. We moved into an apartment close to my mother’s cousin in Brooklyn. Eventually, my parents found jobs —my father as a college teacher and my mother as a secretary. We all settled in and started learning English.

When my parents became more economically stable, they returned the money HIAS had provided, so it could help others in need.

Now, I’m 79 years old and have a family of my own. I married my wife, who is from Colombia, in New York, and we have three children together. Those children have given us seven grandchildren, and we couldn’t be happier.

I also had a successful clothing and hosiery business, which I managed until just three years ago. The business allowed me to provide for my family and create a stable life for us in the United States.

Looking forward, my greatest hope is for my family to remain healthy, happy, and free from persecution. Thanks to HIAS, we are here today and can envision this bright and promising future.