way to Buenos Aires gave them a lift in his van in the dead of night. Julia asked him to drop them off outside Theoâs house. She prayed the whole way that the dâUccello brothers had returned home and would be able to help them. Theo was already back and was keeping a close watch on the street from the window. He rushed out the minute he saw Julia, firing questions at her. He had been injured too. Gabriel, whoâd been the first to come home, had quicklyset up a makeshift infirmary in the living room and was tending to half a dozen wounded.
Still in a state of shock and not yet aware of the scale of the incident, the young people were already calling it âthe Ezeiza massacre.â They knew that hundreds of people had been wounded but still didnât know how many were dead. Over the next few days, graffiti on the cityâs walls accused some government ministers of the crime, and a rumor began that right-wing Peronists had given the order to fire on the crowd. As for Perón, he blamed his left-wing supporters for the massacre, calling them âbeardless youth.â Some people claimed that Perón feared the revolutionary excesses of the Montoneros, others that it was a military tactic to pit the Peronist factions against each other.
By October 1973, when Perón was elected president for the third time, Theo had hung the flag of the Montoneros next to the generalâs photograph: a black rifle crossed with a spear on a red background, with the letter
M
in the middle. In his view, Perón was the natural leader of the Montoneros. Gabriel, for his part, could not forgive the general for having scorned the young Peronists by using the humiliating expression âbeardless youthâ when so many of them had given their lives to enable him to return to the presidency.
Mama Fina warned Julia that hard times were ahead, but her granddaughter was defiant: if Mama Fina had had a vision, she only had to tell her about it. Julia was old enough now to take care of herself. Whatever Mama Fina might think, Juliaremained optimistic. Like Theo, she maintained that Perón had had nothing to do with the massacre; now that he was actually back in power, things could only get better.
In fact, as far as Julia was concerned, things were getting better. She had grown in self-confidence and become popular at high school; she was closer to her father, and, above all, like Anna, she had found true love.
Because of Theo, Julia began to take a genuine interest in politics. She participated in several of the meetings Gabriel organized at his home. Julia was happy to see Rosa at the meetings. She had recovered from her wounds and was now a regular. Julia and she were fast becoming friends.
It was at one of these meetings that Julia met Father Mugica. She couldnât take her eyes off him all evening. At forty-three Carlos Mugica was a very attractive man, even in his cassock. With his light-colored eyes, wry smile, and lock of blond hair falling across his forehead, he was simply irresistible. He spoke plainly, exuding an undeniable charisma. Julia listened to him, trying to understand his arguments and struggling not to allow herself to be influenced by his charm.
7.
FATHER MUGICA
Austral Autumn
1974
T he priest noticed Juliaâs embarrassment and, believing her to be shy, took it upon himself to include her in the conversation. They were talking about the Ezeiza massacre. Each of them described their experience, because all the people in the living room had been at the rally. One of the young men standing near Father Mugica confirmed that the shots had been fired by snipers positioned on the roof of the airport. Ordinarily security would have fallen to Cámporaâs interior minister, Esteban Righi, himself a left-wing Peronist. But apparently Perón had insisted that security during his speech at Ezeiza be entrusted to a colonel with connections to José López Rega, who represented the
Still in a state of shock and not yet aware of the scale of the incident, the young people were already calling it âthe Ezeiza massacre.â They knew that hundreds of people had been wounded but still didnât know how many were dead. Over the next few days, graffiti on the cityâs walls accused some government ministers of the crime, and a rumor began that right-wing Peronists had given the order to fire on the crowd. As for Perón, he blamed his left-wing supporters for the massacre, calling them âbeardless youth.â Some people claimed that Perón feared the revolutionary excesses of the Montoneros, others that it was a military tactic to pit the Peronist factions against each other.
By October 1973, when Perón was elected president for the third time, Theo had hung the flag of the Montoneros next to the generalâs photograph: a black rifle crossed with a spear on a red background, with the letter
M
in the middle. In his view, Perón was the natural leader of the Montoneros. Gabriel, for his part, could not forgive the general for having scorned the young Peronists by using the humiliating expression âbeardless youthâ when so many of them had given their lives to enable him to return to the presidency.
Mama Fina warned Julia that hard times were ahead, but her granddaughter was defiant: if Mama Fina had had a vision, she only had to tell her about it. Julia was old enough now to take care of herself. Whatever Mama Fina might think, Juliaremained optimistic. Like Theo, she maintained that Perón had had nothing to do with the massacre; now that he was actually back in power, things could only get better.
In fact, as far as Julia was concerned, things were getting better. She had grown in self-confidence and become popular at high school; she was closer to her father, and, above all, like Anna, she had found true love.
Because of Theo, Julia began to take a genuine interest in politics. She participated in several of the meetings Gabriel organized at his home. Julia was happy to see Rosa at the meetings. She had recovered from her wounds and was now a regular. Julia and she were fast becoming friends.
It was at one of these meetings that Julia met Father Mugica. She couldnât take her eyes off him all evening. At forty-three Carlos Mugica was a very attractive man, even in his cassock. With his light-colored eyes, wry smile, and lock of blond hair falling across his forehead, he was simply irresistible. He spoke plainly, exuding an undeniable charisma. Julia listened to him, trying to understand his arguments and struggling not to allow herself to be influenced by his charm.
7.
FATHER MUGICA
Austral Autumn
1974
T he priest noticed Juliaâs embarrassment and, believing her to be shy, took it upon himself to include her in the conversation. They were talking about the Ezeiza massacre. Each of them described their experience, because all the people in the living room had been at the rally. One of the young men standing near Father Mugica confirmed that the shots had been fired by snipers positioned on the roof of the airport. Ordinarily security would have fallen to Cámporaâs interior minister, Esteban Righi, himself a left-wing Peronist. But apparently Perón had insisted that security during his speech at Ezeiza be entrusted to a colonel with connections to José López Rega, who represented the
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