Eighth day of January 1959. Never before had the streets and squares of Havana supported so much human weight (physical, sentimental and patriotic). Fidel himself could not stand the temptation or the need to say it, almost at the conclusion of his speech at the Columbia Military Camp, later converted into Libertad School City, when he affirmed:  
There are decisive moments for the life of peoples that mark the beginning of new paths, that build revolutionary attitudes, unrenounceable concepts, eternal embrace of shared ideologies.   If, on top of that, they are led by a man whose moral stature made him an exceptional model of a leader, then there is no doubt: the years will pass, the times will change, but those moments will remain latent in the hearts of millions of people and beyond, in the historical memory of the nation.  
"Our generation will always celebrate the opportunity we had to live the time of two giants of the Revolution and Latin American integration: Fidel Castro and Hugo Chávez", was the first post in X of the First Secretary of the Communist Party and President of the Republic, Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez, yesterday, on the 11th anniversary of the physical departure of Commander Hugo Chávez Frías, leader of the Bolivarian Revolution of Venezuela.
Our Party has to be the instrument for the promotion, for the political development of the best citizens of the country, who must have the full, unrestricted confidence of the Party and the people.
"Get up, the invasion is here...!" This voice, with the sum of desperation and epic that it implies, went from house to house in the towns closest to the landing site. It must also have been heard in other places far from Girón, in the Zapata Swamp, because for days the country had been living under the threat of disembarkation and aggression. Many Cubans declared themselves militiamen and demanded weapons and ammunition to resist and confront the mercenaries.
In the wise imprint of Commander-in-Chief Fidel Castro Ruz and the path bequeathed by the eternal president of the Federation of Cuban Women (FMC), Vilma Espín Guillois, the work of Cuban women finds reasons. A few days before the federates celebrate the 64th anniversary of the founding of their organization, and just on the date that marks the 98th birthday of its fervent promoter, Fidel, the awards ceremony was held, presided over by Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez, First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Party and President of the Republic.
Some names beat with the coolness of the breeze to chase away the summer heat, vibrate with the magic of songs capable of projecting us beyond time, accelerate our heartbeat like the five Olympic golds of a giant. Sometimes, small words support the biggest dreams and achievements.
When on that symbolic July 26th, 1982, in the Plaza de la Patria, in Bayamo, Fidel asked in his vibrant speech: "How could the history of Cuba be written without the history of Granma?," the answer was born right there, in reverse, precisely with another transcendental question: How could the history of Granma be written without talking about the presence of the Commander-in-Chief in this land?
There are human beings who, although they are not physically among us, survive in the imaginary and daily actions, not only of their contemporaries but also of the generations that succeed them. This quality is not granted by decree, nor is it the result of impositions of any kind. On the contrary, it is only possible to ascend to such a dimension when the peoples identify, and assume, that the one who inspires them is a paradigm, from the unfinished, of the better world to conquer.
A colleague writes about Fidel: "He never accepted defeat;" and the thought goes to the reasons that made that characteristic of his, far from sterile obstinacy, a condition to turn utopia into palpable matter.
As a follower of Martí, he knew that to be free, one had to be cultured. Culture was one of the names of the happiness the Revolution longed to give its people Culture, in its broadest concept, was a permanent obsession for Fidel, who was convinced of the crucial role it played in the transformation of a society that was making its debut in Revolution. Without it, he said, "there is no possible freedom".
As a follower of Martí, he knew that to be free, one had to be cultured. Culture was one of the names of the happiness the Revolution longed to give its people Culture, in its broadest concept, was a permanent obsession for Fidel, who was convinced of the crucial role it played in the transformation of a society that was making its debut in Revolution. Without it, he said, "there is no possible freedom".