![]() ![]() We ran out of there and got into the black SUV again, where we stayed until the funeral was over. Someone had just called to announce an attack. I remembered my father’s warning and decided the wisest move was to take a step back.Ī few minutes after we entered the office, a secretary came in, panicked and in tears. One of the bodyguards asked if I was planning to get out, but since I knew that we might be in danger, we retreated to the cemetery’s office to wait for my mother and sister. In an instant, dozens of people surrounded our SUV and began pounding on it as we headed to the site where my father was to be buried. It was a testament to the love that the lower classes felt for my father, and I was touched to hear the same chant they used when he would inaugurate athletic fields or health clinics in poor areas: “Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!” When we arrived at Jardines de Montesacro, I was pleasantly surprised to see how many people had shown up for the funeral. “Well, then we’ll all go, and if they kill us, so be it,” I said, and we rented a small plane to travel to Medellín with two bodyguards assigned by the attorney general’s office.Īfter landing at Olaya Herrera Airport and being besieged by dozens of journalists, who even risked their lives by swarming onto the runway while the plane was still moving, Manuela and my mother were ushered into a red SUV and my girlfriend Andrea and I into a black one. ![]() But my mother said she’d go to Medellín “against Pablo’s wishes.” My grandmother Hermilda had two lots there, and we decided to use them to bury my father and Álvaro de Jesús Agudelo, known as “Lemon,” the bodyguard who was with him when he died.Īfter assessing the risks of attending the funeral, for the first time we defied one of my father’s old orders: “When I die, don’t go to the funeral something could happen to you there.” He’d insisted that we shouldn’t bring him flowers or visit his grave either. They refused to perform the funeral service, and we might have had a similar experience with Jardines de Montesacro, except that relatives of our lawyer at the time, Francisco Fernández, owned the cemetery. Not only did we have to endure the agonizing pain of losing the head of the family in such a violent manner, but the funeral had been even more traumatic.Ī few hours after Ana Montes, the national director of the attorney general’s office, personally confirmed to us that my father had died, we had called the Campos de Paz cemetery in Medellín. For my mother, my sister Manuela, and me, the past twenty-four hours had been the most dramatic of our lives. ![]() In the Residencias Tequendama apartment hotel on December 3, 1993, after the trip to bury my father in Medellín, our firm intention was to live as normal a life as circumstances allowed. This is not the story of a child seeking redemption for his father, but a shocking look at the consequences of violence and the overwhelming need for peace and forgiveness. ![]() More than two decades after the full-fledged manhunt finally caught up with the king of cocaine, Juan Pablo Escobar travels to the past to reveal an unabridged version of his father-a man capable of committing the most extreme acts of cruelty while simultaneously professing infinite love for his family. Until now, we believed that everything had been said about the rise and fall of Pablo Escobar, the most infamous drug kingpin of all time, but these versions have always been told from the outside, never from the intimacy of his own home. Here, at last, is the full story in Pablo Escobar: My Father by Juan Pablo Escobar (Available August 30, 2016). Pablo Escobar: My Father by Juan Pablo EscobarThe popular series Narcos captures only half the truth. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |