Now, desperate, she slipped them into the slow, quiet "Pedro Pan" exodus that brought 14,048 Cuban children to America on scattered commercial flights, through a dissident network that hid them in plain sight.
As the plane took off, Josefina Guerra lowered her head.
"Blessed Mother," she prayed, "take care of them. You are their mother now."
Equality was the promise of the Cuban Revolution that overthrew dictator Fulgencio Batista on Jan. 1, 1959. But the better-off classes saw their property seized, parochial schools closed, and military units posted on their blocks.
Disillusioned, thousands of Cubans like architects Josefina and Juan Guerra made the agonizing decision to send their children away. Most believed it would be temporary, until Castro's regime foundered.
Josefina Guerra, however, sensed it would be forever.
From Dec. 26, 1960, through Oct. 22, 1962, a steady stream of children ages 6 to 18 left Cuba for Miami under a special visa-waiver program coordinated by the State Department and the Roman Catholic Church in America. It came to be called "Operation Peter Pan," or "Pedro Pan," a Latinized allusion to the Lost Boys of the children's tale.
But unlike the fictional Peter Pan, the Pedro Pans had to grow up overnight, as older siblings stepped into the role of protectors of younger brothers and sisters. The oldest Guerra child, Maria Lourdes, was "11 going on 40," recalled her brother Antonio, now 57 and living in the Philadelphia area, where most of the family settled.
In their 50s and 60s today, Pedro Pans are preparing for ceremonies in Miami this November to mark a half-century since the flights that changed their lives.
