Friday, September 14, 2001 in
The Miami Herald
Lawyer: Accused spy to plead guilty
By Gail Epstein Nieves. gepstein@herald.com . Posted at
6:02 a.m. EDT Friday, September 14, 2001
Accused Cuban spy Marisol Gari, half of a husband-and-wife team arrested in
Orlando, will plead guilty to a single spying-related charge next week as part
of a plea agreement offered by federal prosecutors, her lawyer said Thursday.
"I got the discovery in the case, I looked at it, [the plea offer] is a
good deal, and it's what she wants to do,'' said Miami attorney Louis Casuso.
Gari, 42, is scheduled to plead guilty to one count of conspiracy to act as
an unregistered agent for Cuba, Casuso said. She faces a maximum sentence of
five years in prison.
In turn, prosecutors will drop a second count of acting as an unregistered
Cuban agent, Casuso said. That charge carries a maximum 10-year sentence.
Gari and her husband, George Gari, 41, were arrested last month and accused
of being agents for the Cuban Directorate of Intelligence. The couple allegedly
belonged to Cuba's La Red Avispa, or Wasp Network, which the FBI dismantled with
10 arrests in September 1998.
CONVICTIONS
Five high-ranking intelligence agents from the Wasp Network were convicted
on federal spying-related charges in June, including three who were convicted of
espionage conspiracy. Those men are awaiting sentencing. According to their
indictment, the Garis reported to two of them: Ramón Labañino and
Fernando González.
The Garis -- who used the code names Luis and Margot -- allegedly assisted
in the ring's two primary goals: trying to infiltrate the U.S. Southern Command
headquarters in West Miami-Dade and to penetrate the inner circles of the Cuban
American National Foundation, a prominent Cuban exile group.
But Marisol Gari's lawyer said she was not as culpable as the convicted men.
He said the plea is scheduled for next Thursday before U.S. District Judge
Ursula Ungaro-Benages. Assistant U.S. Attorney David Buckner could not be
reached for comment.
The Garis moved to Orlando 18 months ago after living in Miami for about
eight years. She worked for the U.S. Postal Service for part of that time.
ACCUSATIONS
In Miami, the indictment states, Marisol Gari helped keep tabs on security
at the CANF headquarters and helped manage another agent in his bid to get a job
at Southcom, which oversees American military operations in the Caribbean and
Latin America.
Gari also is accused of preparing a report for her Cuban bosses comparing
the costs of U.S. mail service, Federal Express and other mail handlers.
Elizabeth Delgado, a lawyer who represents George Gari, did not return phone
calls seeking comment. Casuso said that George Gari has been offered the same
plea deal as his wife.
From slur to success: Cuban immigrant gives time, talents to community
Published Thursday, September 13, 2001.
Maria Teresa Sanjuan was 17 years old and recently arrived from Cuba when
she first experienced discrimination.
In English, but with a Spanish accent, she had ordered a hamburger and a
bowl of navy beans at a Royal Castle in downtown Fort Lauderdale when a man
across the counter shouted: "Go back!'' Curious, she searched for the
source of his anger. When the man continued his harangue, she realized he was
shouting at her.
She was shaking when she got to her tiny efficiency a few blocks away. Then,
alone, far from family, far from everything she had ever known, she began to
weep.
"I cried for three days. I cried for my mother, for Cuba, for myself.''
Then she stopped. She recognized the incident for the lesson it was.
"I could let people walk over me and destroy me or I could go back,''
she adds. "Neither was an option. I knew I had to survive.''
Sanjuan, 58, did more than that. She thrived. Now, 41 years after the
incident that changed her life, Sanjuan works three blocks from where that Royal
Castle once stood, in a corner office with a view. A certified financial
planner, she is regional vice president for AXA Advisors.
She is also extensively involved in civic, professional and philanthropic
organizations. She is a founding member of the Latin Chamber of Commerce,
Hispanic Unity of Florida, the Coalition of Hispanic American Women-Broward, and
the Boys and Girls Club of Hollywood. She serves as treasurer of the United Way
of Broward and as vice chair of the National Conference for Community and
Justice, a group dedicated to fighting bigotry and racism -- a position she says
is "very critical'' for her.
"This must be a place where our children and our grandchildren do not
hear, 'Go back!' as I did,'' she says.
Sanjuan joined the board of the NCCJ in 1999 and a year later was asked to
be the vice chair. She's now in line for the chairmanship. Her tenure there has
been marked with the same high-octane energy that friends say is typical of any
Sanjuan endeavor.
"She jumped in with 10 feet,'' quips Carol Spring, NCCJ executive
director. "She's the spark plug that gets the engine cooking. You get twice
as much when you get Maria.''
Sanjuan's father was a businessman, and her mother had master's degrees in
both pharmacy and philosophy -- an extraordinary feat for a woman of that era.
Sanjuan grew up in Havana as the sheltered oldest daughter of three children.
The triumph of the Castro revolution, however, would change all that. In 1960, a
few months shy of her 18th birthday, she was forced to flee to the United States
alone when she fell into disfavor for protesting the takeover of her alma mater,
Instituto Edison. She settled in Broward because her grandmother had a friend in
Fort Lauderdale.
She found a job as a cashier in a shoe store and was soon promoted to sales.
Working strictly on commission, she became the top producer. And she began to
love her new life. "I love change and I love a challenge,'' she recalls. "I
was also desperate to root myself.''
That was not to be. In March 1962, with her mother and sister who were now
in the United States, Sanjuan moved to Fort Bragg in North Carolina to join her
first husband. Her son George was born there. Their year's stay proved to be an
eye-opening experience. She couldn't find a job, landlords refused to rent to
them, and the family struggled to make ends meet on a soldier's salary.
"I did all of my growing in that year,'' she says. "I learned how
to cook, how to iron and starch a uniform, even how to spit-shine boots. But for
years I wouldn't eat any hot dogs because that's what we ate all the time when
we were up there.''
When they returned to Fort Lauderdale in 1963, she immediately got a job as
a bookkeeper/cashier at a finance company. She then moved to a boat factory,
where she rose from secretary to sales coordinator. But when she was turned down
for the job of vice president of sales -- "Women don't hold those
positions,'' she was told -- she left. Recruited by a manager for Equitable Life
(now owned by AXA Financial Inc.), she ended up selling insurance. By then, she
had divorced and married her second husband, Jose Sanjuan, who adopted George
and daughter Elizabeth.
"That's when I really got to know the community,'' Sanjuan says of her
sales calls and visits to the Perezes, Gonzalezes and Martinezes of 1970s Fort
Lauderdale. "People were wonderful, and I felt very lucky. Whether they
bought or not, later they would call me as a resource or for a referral.''
Activists soon recognized Sanjuan's potential and recruited her for her
first civic duties. "Maria is such a great role model,'' explains Bob
MacConnell, president and CEO of Broward's United Way. "Not just for
Cubans, not just for women, but for everybody. You can't be around her and not
be inspired by wanting to do your part. She's just not talk. She delivers.''
Today's Broward is a different county from the one that welcomed her when
she first arrived. Hispanics make up 17 percent of the population and accounted
for 44 percent of the growth in the past decade, according to the 2000 Census.
Latin businesses have moved, crossing the county boundary that once was more of
an imaginary obstacle than a geographic line.
Now a grandmother of four and far from the impoverished refugee who could
afford only hot dogs, Sanjuan remains committed to helping residents live, work
and play together in an increasingly diverse community.
"I want to make a difference in this community,'' she says. "I
want to make rain happen.''
aveciana@herald.com
Copyright 2001 Miami Herald | 
