Was Sunday 3 February 2013, and I was assigned the coverage of the electoral college No.1, 13, 13 Constituency, Plaza of the Revolution. Other times I had already touched that place, the electoral college of Fidel.
I knew that it was almost unlikely to attend by his state of health, but I went from 7:00 in the morning, time passed and passed and his emissary did not arrive, the man who deposited their ballots, the tiredness was felt and nothing of the man with the sealed envelope.
Finally, almost to the 5:00 in the afternoon, he felt the excitement on the outskirts, there could be another thing… Fidel came.
Eventually excited, slowly and with help, he entered the school the invincible, and gave a smile to everyone. With the humility of always, he apologized for being late. Then the time stopped, forgot the wait. We were there in front of us, the voter, pulling out his identity card and taking it to the table.
With a nice gesture for the photos he exercised his right of citizenship, and looked excited for the future; those pioneers who still did not know whether it was truth or lie about what was going on. And we looked at us journalists and said, Come, I want to speak to the press.
The exchange lasted about an hour, spoke of all, international policy, of Chávez and his health, the Congress of the UPEC and that he would like to participate, if he was invited.
I ached all over the body, by the time elapsed, and looked at less than a meter to a man with almost 90 years and with that energy of the titans, standing and with the spirit of an Olympic champion, that was Fidel.
He said goodbye to the gathered there, took a picture with the workers of the electoral table and went out to the street full of people who shouted excited. He approached, greeting, said a few words and retired since arriving in the evening.
The people cried and said: "It was Fidel, it was him."
(Text and photos: Cubadebate)