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Facundo Cabral... left us on Argentina's Independence Day
- elchueco, CNN iReport producer
I am SO incredibly saddened by the death... by the MURDER I should say, of Facundo Cabral.
I actually met him while I lived in Argentina. The photos I posted are how I remember him when we met.
My ex-husband and I were sitting in the outdoor section of a cafe in Buenos Aires. This must have been late 1983 or early 1984, just before I had my son (April 84) and before I moved to California in Sept of 84. I believe we had just gotten back from the US embassy/consulate or were about to go that day to update my passport for travel.
Anyway, I was pregnant at the time with my first son. We were sitting at this cafe and this guy starts staring at me, and I mean fixated. I thought to myself "how bizarre" because it was just a very fixated stare. My ex-husband also notices this. But, upon closer inspection, my ex whispers to me excitedly, "It's Facundo, Facundo Cabral!" My ex was a huge fan of his.
He's sitting next to us just staring at me. He seemingly realizes what he was doing, and gets up, walks towards our table and first off apologizes for staring. He goes on to tell us that he was "spellbound" by me because I looked identical to his wife (or partner, I'm not sure if they were legally married, since people in Argentina don't normally differentiate the formality of being legally married, at least not in a verbal conversation) He said that he was further impressed that I was pregnant, and that even more so because I had the same size tummy that his wife had of how he remembered her before she was killed in an airplane crash. At this point my husband and I are both left with our mouths gaping and I was also very touched by what he said.
I read later that his daughter, age one, was killed along with his wife. I'm starting to vaguely remember that he mentioned a daughter as well. Perhaps he may have just remembered his wife more during her pregnancy, perhaps I reminded him of her during that specific time. All I remember is what he said to me...
He sat there with us and talked and talked for quite a long time, hours I would say.
He was very nice. We told him our plans. He even gave us either his address or phone number (or both). I can't remember where he lived around that time; it may have been either Europe or US because he gave us his information with the intention of seeing us later, so I believe he had a home or friends in California (if I recall well) or he was planning to travel there to perform. We also offered our home to him. I know he had gone back to Argentina during the military coup because at the time, the government demanded there only be diffusion of local content.
My ex-husband called him at some point later, even more than once. He might remember more details.
Anyway, after the cafe chat, he kissed us on the cheek and we said our good-byes.
By the way, Facundo Cabral was a lot of things. He was named a "United Nations Messenger of Peace" in 1996, a staunch supporter of democrary... he was a cancer survivor and a young widow, a troubadour, improvisor, and philosopher... and he was killed on Argentina's Independence Day. How sad... how very sad to have survived so much supporting peace only to be killed violently in his 70's!
No worries, though, he lives on in our hearts and that's how he would have wanted us to feel about it!
Facundo, You will be missed! Can you see me? Now you'll be able to be with your wife and child. Here's to you! Ciao, a kiss to you, Facundo. RIP
Facundo, Se te va a extrañar mucho! ¿Me estás viendo? Ahora vas a poder estar con tu mujer y tu hija. Esta es para vos! Chau, un beso, Facundo. QEPD
Update: Oh, boy, I had to edit this story, because I just realized that not only is the day he was murdered Argentina's Independence Day, but it would have been my ex-husband's and mine 28th wedding anniversary. We were married on July 9th, 1983... how incredibly unusual.
"I raise my voice in Italy and I am silent in India, because I am and I live in the present, because I am made of dreams, of emptiness, of wine, and of wheat, they call me MAN. It's true that I am dust, but sacred dust I am, even though you know that when I say I am, I am saying you are, invincible, unnameable. Highest Lord, don't worry about our daily bread because that is up to us, that's why we are men, but don't leave us without our nightly dream because without it we are nothing, we who are perhaps only a dream that you dream." ~Facundo Cabral
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