FLORIDA CITY � Maggie Pedroso did not remember much about the house where she lived as a 5-year-old. But she did remember the stoop where �a bunch of red ants bit me all over.� 

Her sister, Nancy Pedroso, 10 years older, remembered a bit more: the cafeteria across the street from where Maggie slept; the apartment building further up the block where she lived with the older girls, and whose corner wall served as movie theatre and dance hall for the teenagers; the chapel on the first floor where Masses were celebrated; and the open-air basketball court on the corner.

�All this block were Pedro Pan homes with different foster parents,� Nancy recalled as she walked through N.W. Second Avenue between 14th and 16th streets in Florida City.

It was her first time back in nearly 50 years. She and her sister had left Cuba in 1962, two of more than 14,000 children sent by their parents to the U.S. to avoid communist indoctrination. Placed under the care of the Catholic Church, many of them passed through or lived in the Florida City camp, which became known among locals as Cuban Village. Between 1961 and 1966, it was the largest camp and transit point for the unaccompanied minors who arrived in South Florida under the auspices of the secret program that became known as Pedro Pan (Peter Pan).

On Nov. 16, the alumni of Florida City gathered with other Pedro Pans to celebrate the dedication of a Florida Heritage Landmark on the site, and the renaming of N.W. Second Avenue as Pedro Pan Place. It was the culmination of a 50-year celebration that began on the 50th anniversary of the start of the program � December 1960 � and concluded on the 50th anniversary of the end of the flights � October 1962.

Before receiving proclamations from Florida City�s mayor and commissioners, the Pedro Pans walked around looking for familiar sights, shedding tears, and partaking in poignant encounters with former housemates, as well as two of the Sisters of St. Philip Neri who had served as their guardians, teachers and substitute moms.

The Pedroso sisters lived in Florida City for three years, until their parents made their way to the U.S. Maggie now lives in New York and Nancy in Tampa. Nancy remembers the long bus rides to Immaculata La Salle High School in Miami, where she received �a fabulous education.� Maggie remembers Mrs. Mahoney, her teacher at the public elementary school, who took pity on the fact that she could not speak English and made sure never to call on her in class.

�I will always be grateful to her for that,� said Maggie, adding that she learned many lessons from Mrs. Mahoney that she ultimately put into practice in her own classroom.

As she walked around inside the apartment where she lived as a little girl, she tried to visualize 14 bunk beds crammed into the small space � and made futile attempts to hold back tears.

�It seemed like the world was going to end, that there would be no hope, that I would never see my mom again,� she said, recalling one other indelible memory from that time period: President John F. Kennedy�s assassination. �We needed to come back here in order to heal, in order to cry.�

Even so, said her older sister, �We were lucky. We had each other. Our foster parents were great.�

�I just remember the bigger girls combing my hair and dressing me like a doll,� said Maria Teresa Gomez Lombardi, who arrived in Florida City as a 6-year-old and lived in the same house as Maggie Pedroso. She remembered one other thing: the names of her house parents, Nino and Peluca.

She, too, shed tears as she walked around the small apartment. Then she ran into a woman named Caridad Cesari.

�My parents were (Nino and Peluca) her house parents,� said Cesari, who now lives in Tampa and whose younger sister is the same age as Lombardi. The product of an Italian dad and a Cuban mom, Cesari and her sister were Pedro Pans as well. Her sister had come in August, she in October and their parents in November 1961, at which time they became foster parents to other Cuban children.

�I knew I was part of something but I didn�t know what I was part of,� said Lombardi, who now lives in Connecticut. She began investigating in the 1990s, starting with the only words she knew: Catholic Welfare Bureau (now Catholic Charities). She was able to meet Msgr. Bryan O. Walsh, one of the architects of Pedro Pan, in 1996. (He died in 2001). She and her older brother were reunited with their mother in 1966, but she never saw her father again. He died in Cuba. Her wish is to return there �to go see my father in the cemetery.�

�I�m so humbled by these Cuban Americans. Everything they went through, where they are and what they�ve done,� said Lombardi�s husband, Bill. �It�s so inspiring. They know what true freedom is.�

�We�ve always called this area the Cuban Village and I never knew why,� said Otis T. Wallace, Florida�s City�s mayor, recalling how as a kid he used to ride his bike through the neighborhood. �We�re fixing that today,� he said while presenting a proclamation to members of the board of directors of Operation Pedro Pan Group, the non-profit organization created to reunite the Pedro Pans, to tell the world their stories, and to serve children today who find themselves in similar circumstances.

�You truly represent the best that is America,� Mayor Wallace said. �Since I found out about Pedro Pan, all over the county I�m meeting people who told me they were here,� including a co-worker at Florida City whom he has known for 19 years. �And they are all no excuse-making, productive citizens.�

�Today we stand here as grateful adults,� said Carmencita Roma�ach, president of Pedro Pan group and a Florida City alumnus by adoption � she and her two younger brothers spent nine days at the camp in Kendall before being relocated with family in Puerto Rico. She noted that the Pedro Pans were welcomed by the U.S., sheltered and protected by the Catholic Church, and given the opportunity to live in freedom and practice their faith.

�We leave a legacy to (our children and grandchildren),� she said, �a legacy greater than any material goods, a legacy of love, courage, resilience and gratitude.�

�Now that legacy of selfless love is theirs to pass on,� said Carmen Valdivia as the children and grandchildren of Pedro Pans � her sons and granddaughter included � unveiled the historical marker placed in the courtyard of the apartment building.

Valdivia chaired the committee that applied for the Florida Heritage Landmark and serves on the board of directors of Pedro Pan Group. She and her husband Guillermo Paz, both architects, spent two years photographing and taking inventory of the buildings that comprised the former camp as part of the documentation for the historical designation. He died after a brief illness this past May.

�Please know that many of us consider this our Ellis Island,� said John Couriel, a Pedro Pan who served as master of ceremonies for the event. And he reminded those present that Pedro Pan children still exist, and they are still being cared for by the Church, through Catholic Charities� Unaccompanied Refugee Minors and Unaccompanied Minors programs. The latter are housed in the Msgr. Bryan O Walsh Children�s Village in southeastern Miami-Dade County, the old Boystown site which also housed some of the original Pedro Pans.