- The Washington Times - Wednesday, April 5, 2000

Castro's kids

On two completely different sides of Washington yesterday, native Cubans prepared for the arrival of Juan Miguel Gonzalez.
There were Cuban diplomats rushing about, hoping like their president, Fidel Castro that the long-running custody standoff over Mr. Gonzalez's son, Elian, was nearing a conclusion.
And there were Cubans who left the island, however many years ago, working feverishly at the Cuban-American National Foundation. One of them put a 24-page booklet, "The Children of Fidel Castro," in our hands.
It tells how under the totalitarian regime imposed on Cuba since 1959 universally acknowledged to be one of the most repressive ever in the Western Hemisphere a person is born, grows, lives and dies under the constant and strict control of the state. Particularly from childhood through adolescence.
Elian, it says, was already a Young Communist Pioneer when he and his mother fled Cuba by raft. All told, 98 percent of children in Cuban elementary schools are enrolled in the Pioneer program.
"Cuba's children belong to the Revolution," the booklet says. "In other words, like everything else in that God forsaken island, children belong to Fidel Castro. Or so he thinks."

Sam's kids

While Washington was deciding the fate of Elian Gonzalez yesterday, 50 children adopted from 16 foreign countries became America's newest citizens at a special circus ceremony at the D.C. Armory.
Immigration and Naturalization Service District Director Warren A. Lewis joined Sen. Mary L. Landrieu, Louisiana Democrat, and Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus ringmaster Johnathan Lee Iverson, to honor the new American arrivals.

NOW and later

"The selection made by the Staff Association is all the more regrettable as its Constitution expressly indicates that the first of the Staff Association's objectives is to 'foster a sense of common purpose among members of the staff in promoting the aims and objectives of the World Bank Group.' "

Internal memo from the World Bank, criticizing its association's decision to invite a vice president of the National Organization for Women to address employees last month in light of NOW's unequivocal partisan political activity.

Miss Nolan?

"I was watching C-Span's [congressional hearings] the other night," writes Alan Cox of Boyden, Iowa. "One of the people being asked questions was White House Counsel Beth Nolan. The more I watched her, the more of a resemblance I saw in her of James Carville.
"Here is my question to you, kind sir, and gentleman on the Potomac: Is she any relative of the Ragin' Cajun?"

CIA wife

A Chevy Chase, Md., mother of five and grandmother of 11 has written a book about her late husband, "My Spy: Memoir of a CIA wife."
Bina Cady Kiyonaga, an Irish Catholic from Baltimore, is the wife; Joe Kiyonaga, a striking Japanese-American war hero and James Bond look-alike from Hawaii, her husband.
Little did she know until his testimony from his death bed (she dutifully recorded every word) that her husband was involved in cutting-edge psychological warfare operations that spanned four continents. Which finally explained everything from his overnight disappearances to his tension-filled silence at the dinner table.
One of Joe's posts was Panama, his main contact, Manuel Noriega, head of Panama's secret police. Noriega used to visit the family's apartment in the middle of the night.
Then there was the evening of the overthrow of Salvador Allende's government in Chile, reputed to be a CIA coup.
Yet Mrs. Kiyonaga never once asked her husband any questions, not even when a notorious dictator had shown up at their door overnight. She learned to live a lie, she says in the Avon book published this week, and lie bravely.
Only after 30 years, she says, as Joe lay dying, did she finally meet the husband she never knew, hearing the full details of the secret life and global cause of which she and their five children had been a part.

Push of a button

Sixteen congressmen, Republicans and Democrats alike, who sit on the House Committee on Government Reform, have received shiny little gold boxes, about the size of a ring box, in the mail.
"Official White House E-Mail Shredder," it read on the outside.
The congressmen, including ranking Democrat Henry A. Waxman of California, opened the boxes to find wrapped in cotton a standard "delete" key from a computer keyboard compliments of 60,000 members of the Citizens' Investigative Commission outraged over the "missing" White House e-mail messages.

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