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| Celia's Home in Fort Lee, New Jersey |
“People are putting flowers at her home in Fort Lee. Si tu te atreverias ir yo tambien me atreveria. ”
“Where in Fort Lee?”
“I have no idea. At the least I won’t just sit at home wondering.”
We were on a journey to an unmapped destination with faith that we would find it.
“On TV, it looked like there were tall buildings.” I said, as if this narrowed the aimless search.
“Yeah,” Mom recalls, “She lived in a condo. I remember when she was moving in- it made the news.”
“Why?” Uh-oh! More Celia Cruz folklore?
“Because you had to be approved by the Board to move in and back in those days - you know - with discrimination.”
“I wonder why she just didn’t live in a big house? Mom, I don’t think we’re in Fort Lee anymore!”
La Diva starts fussing. Mom says, “You are going to have to stop and feed her.”
“I gotta stop anyway ‘cause we’re not in Fort Lee.”
I make a u-turn and stopped to feed her and we are back on the road. This time with a plan- let’s look for anything Cuban – a restaurant or
something. They have to know!
“Oh Mom! We’ll never find it!”
"What about those buildings over there?"
“I see but- how can we find which one it is?”
La Diva starts fussing again.
“¡La Diva! We’re looking for Celia Cruz’s house- I mean condo, I mean building.”
La Diva’s fussing became crying. I gave up! “Oh, Mom! I’m going to pull over!” It was a hotdog restaurant on the right. Lo and behold - there it was! On the left- the flowers and candles! The make-shift memorial for Celia Cruz!
We cross the street and are silenced by the reality that she is gone.
I ask someone how they knew where she lived. “I didn’t. But I figured somehow we would find it. Celia would help us. Her spirit would guide us. Then one of her songs played on the radio and I thought – this is a sign! We’re close! And we were right here!” If it didn’t happen to me exactly the same way I would think this was more Celia folklore.
Our moment was disrupted by a couple shouting from a car. It was a caucasian couple in a BMW. The white lady has a horrified look on her face, “Is this where the shooting happened? Oh my God! Honey! This is where the shooting must of happened.”
“This is for Celia Cruz,” says the Celia mourner.
“Was that the name of the person that got shot? You hear that honey?”
The caucasian man is straining his neck to see because his wife or girlfriend is on our side. Little do they know that they just committed what amounts to sacrilege.
Another Celia mourner turns around quickly to set the record straight. “Celia Cruz died of cancer,” she emphasized and turned to her husband, “Honey,
she’s talking about something else – she’s talking about a shooting.”
The white man sees the picture of Celia and says, “Is this for that woman in the picture?”
“Yes. Celia Cruz.”
“We used to see here in the building all the time- right honey? We’re very sorry.”
Wow! We are all thinking. You were neighbors with the Queen of Salsa!!!
The couple moves on, relieved I’m sure that there was no shooting in their neighborhood.
We continue to grieve quietly and notice that someone placed a box of Domino sugar on the memorial site and we chuckle to ourselves.
We walk back to the car and guess who’s playing on the radio? Celia Cruz of course! I thought -maybe she really is watching...
Next page -> Last Respects
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