I gazed down on the white-washed sarcophagus of my ancestors in Havana, Cuba. Emotion flooded my heart when I touched the bas-relief carvings of the names of my great-great-grandparents.

This mission trip had been a surreal dream since the early-morning flight from Louisville, Ky., just a few days before.

A few of the 14-member team from Louisville's Southeast Christian Church accompanied me to one of the world's largest cemeteries. Thousands of above-ground tombs, monuments, sepulchers and statues stretched in all directions like a city of the dead. An old man had guided us through the streets of Cemeterio Colón to my family's plot without once consulting a map.

Looking back

The story of our family's life in Cuba is a colorful one. My grandfather, George Harper - himself born in Cuba -- owned a 10,000-acre ranch in Las Villas province on the island's east end.

One day the Harper ranch came in the path of Che Guevara, Castro's famed rebel companion from Argentina.

Tom Harper visits his family's gravesite in Havana.

When Che and his small band of communists moved across the ranch, the communist leader rode a donkey with two small boys supporting his feet on either side. His march from the mountains in eastern Cuba had apparently been a long one.

One night during the revolution my grandfather was sleeping in the ranch house and was awakened by a loud knock. When he opened the door he stared at a group of barbudos - bearded communist rebels - sitting in a circle, proudly flaunting their guns and bandoliers.

But rather than loot the house, they sat down with my grandfather for a late-night social call. The rebels politely liberated several guns, promising to return them after Castro won the revolution. One shotgun was returned, though its barrel had been sawed off and a tripod attached to its body.

Later my grandfather found himself trapped in a nearby town when Castro's forces took control of it. He ducked into a hotel to escape the ensuing gun battle and spent the night on the lobby floor. Once the fighting subsided, he went to the hotel's roof and collected several handfuls of 50-caliber shells discarded by attacking planes. My uncle still has one of the shells.

Dad recalls playing basketball at school when automatic weapons fire rang out in the distance. The coach promptly evacuated the court, and when the shooting subsided everyone returned to find large-caliber bullets embedded about halfway in the asphalt - right where they had been playing just minutes before. They yanked the bullets out of the soft surface and continued their game.

New Year's Eve, 1958, was unforgettable for my dad. He was at a party and received a call from his parents. They told him Batista had fallen, "and we're coming to pick you up!"

When Castro assumed official control of Cuba on Jan. 1, 1959, the family gathered around the TV and watched a speaker hurl insults at Fulgencio Batista, the former Cuban dictator. Though that sort of talk could've been punished before by firing squad, the speaker raved about Castro without reservation.

That night the family sat down for dinner when sudden gunfire pelted the air nearby. They dropped to the floor and moved into the windowless hallway to finish their meal. The maid, Estella, crawled between the kitchen and the hallway several times as she "cleared the floor."

The fighting had erupted when some of Batista's die-hards had barricaded themselves in a police station down the street. Castro's victorious rebels had been trying to root them out.

The following week Castro and his barbudos made their triumphant entry into Havana atop tanks and other military vehicles. The "parade" came close to the Harper house and the family went down to watch. Dad scrambled to pick up bullets thrown by the soldiers into the crowd.

Starting over

Planting season came in 1960 and by that time Castro's commanders had seized all but 1,000 acres of the Harper ranch. My grandfather couldn't afford to plant a crop and decided to try to borrow $250,000 from a friend at the Royal Bank of Canada's main Cuban office. After much cajoling, his friend acquiesced. The bank had enjoyed Castro's support because of the country's dependence on the flow of dollars to and from Canada.

As U.S.-Cuba relations deteriorated suddenly, my grandfather knew he'd have to leave soon and wondered if he'd ever be able to pay back the bank. His strong moral sense and determination led him straight to Fidel Castro's office.

After calling in favors and getting 21 signatures from contacts in Castro's own military, the bank helped pave the way for Harper to make his case. He found himself sitting in Castro's office talking to the secretary, whose pontification on the glorious revolution received quick nods from the humble rancher. The hearty discussions went on for three days.

Castro finally showed up. He didn't look at the signatures, and after a short conversation with the honorable American citizen about his loss of property and his desire to pay off the Royal Bank, the leader took a checkbook from his pocket and scribbled out a check for $195,291.62.

George Harper said muchas gracias and headed straight for the bank. His friend called in several employees to gaze at a check signed by Castro.

Now free of debt, my grandfather could follow his family's footsteps out of their beloved Cuba. They had to leave most of their possessions behind.

They watched the Bay of Pigs disaster unfold on the TV in their new home in Florida. That's when the kids realized they were never going back. The Cuban missile crisis erupted, and the Harper family yet again watched their homeland make its mark on world history.

Family connection

As I ran my fingers along the warm, sun-baked headstone, the heart of Cuba entered my own. Our family still owned this tomb - in fact, I could legally be buried there if I wanted - yet our family had left it in the care of the Cuban people some 40 years ago.

Then a paradoxical thought hit me. If Castro had never taken power and driven my family out, would I be alive today? My parents surely would never have met. Should I thank God that Castro's revolution was victorious?

Or should I rather thank Him for turning what was meant for evil into good?

Coming home stirred a longing to return someday to my family's homeland. A special fringe benefit of the trip was meeting new brothers and sisters in Christ.

It was like an extended family - one that had never left the island - had welcomed me back to the Harper home with open arms.

Tom Harper is Church Central's publisher and a member of Southeast Christian Church in Louisville, Ky. He was one of 14 short-term missionaries from Southeast who visited Cuba the summer of 2001.