Oscar Collazo Shots rang out at the Blair House, where President Harry Truman was temporarily residing. It was the year 1950. Truman had, by then, given the order to drop the H-Bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a massacre he never regretted. It was a year of patriotic fervor and turmoil in Puerto Rico. Blanca Canales and her little troop had proclaimed the Republic in Jayuya as part of an island-wide uprising. Nationalists had attacked the governor's residence in San Juan. Angered and frustrated by the United States domination over Puerto Rico, Oscar Collazo and his young friend, Grisello Torresola, determined to commit an act that would draw world-wide attention. Buying one-way tickets to Washington, D.C., they decided on the strategy of attacking the Blair House. Torresola and one guard were killed in the fray. Collazo lay wounded and unconscious. For this act of protest, Collazo served twenty-nine years imprisonment, part of it in the agonizing uncertainty of being taken off at any time for execution. Finally, under the pressure of national and international appeals, Truman commuted his death sentence. Born in Florida, Puerto Rico, a barrio of Barceloneta, Collazo suffered the loss of his father at the age of six. The care of sixteen children was too much for his mother, so he was brought up by an older brother, a member of the Unionist Party. Folding in 1934, the Party was never a decisive advocate of independence as was its offshoot, the Nationalist Party. It was with the Nationalist Party that Collazo chose to affiliate. Collazo was but fourteen when he took part in his first unlawful activity. He joined a student strike in commemoration of the birthday of the great Puerto Rican politician and poet, José de Diego. Among the speakers participating was Juan Antonio Corretjer, who read from his poetry and delivered a patriotic speech. He first heard Albizu Campos speak at the 1932 celebration of de Diego's birthday. At that moment the Puerto Rican legislature was debating the conversion of the Puerto Rican flag into a symbol of colonialism to be flown alongside the American flag. "What should we do to these traitors?" demanded Don Pedro. "Hang them!" shouted the crowd. Armed with sticks, they rushed to the Capitol with Don Pedro in the lead, driving out the terrified legislators. The building was still under construction and the handrails of the steps, pressured by the onslaught, gave way. Several people fell. Manuel Rafael Suárez later died of injuries received from the fall, and became honored by the Nationalists as their first martyr. Collazo saw in Albizu not only a great leader, but a man of action. It was later, when Collazo spent some years in New York City, that he had the opportunity to know Albizu better. He visited with him at Columbus Hospital and, under Albizu's influence, became actively involved with the Nationalist Party. He served first as secretary, and later as president of the New York chapter. For a livelihood he became a metal worker in a factory. It was after some years of political awareness that Collazo determined to carry out the action at the Blair House that led to his imprisonment. It was no easy decision, to choose between devotion to his family and love of country. He left behind his wife, Rosa, and three adolescent daughters as he entered Leavenworth Penitentiary. There he spent his time reading, studying French and Portuguese and learning to play the guitar. He was active in supporting fair treatment of fellow prisoners. In his love of reading, he met with disappointment when the library of 30,000 books was replaced with TV. Weeks went by without access to newspapers, and he was permitted communication only with close family members and lawyers. Los Indómitos, a story of the three Nationalists, Collazo, Irvin Flores and Rafael Cancel, describes his release from prison. He was asked if he believed that the twenty-nine years in prison had softened him. "In the first place," he replied, "they didn't take me to prison to soften me but to rot me. In the second place, when you struggle for the independence of your people, there is no way you can be softened." On his return to Puerto Rico, he feared that he had been forgotten. But he and Rafael Cancel and Irvin Flores and Lolita Lebrón were greeted by a multitude waving flags and posters. The emotion of this reception, he confessed, brought on a flood of tears. He noted many changes in Puerto Rico—broad avenues, tall buildings, modern houses, and banks, but "none of it belongs to us!" We met Collazo on many occasions. One of them was an annual observance of the Ponce Massacre. He was interviewed there for a radio broadcast in which he dealt with his opposition to voting. He sees no value in elections controlled by a foreign power under the shadow of military bases and nuclear weapons in order to bring about political changes. Up to now, Puerto Rico remains a colonial system disguised as a "free associated state," but whose powers depend on the Congress of the United States. He agrees with Congressman Dellums' resolution to return all political powers to the people of Puerto Rico in that no valid political decision can be made within the framework of repressive colonialism. Nationalists follow Albizu's mandate to boycott the colonial electoral process. Collazo sees clearly the results of United States imperialism with its control over 85% of the Puerto Rican economy. Unable to regulate tariffs and foreign competition, Puerto Rican industries have little chance for survival. Collazo sees the possibility of independence within his lifetime, although admitting that it will take years. As for statehood, he has never considered it a serious alternative, since people don't support it as an ideology, but for the handouts they would get from the United States. He sees some hope in the United Nations resolutions calling for independence, and deploring United States harassment of independentistas. He sees socialism as the hope of the future for mankind insofar as it succeeds in bringing about equality and true democracy. Proclaimed as a national hero, Collazo remains steadfast in his convictions, a voice to be commuting his death sentence, he replied, "When the last Yankee soldier leaves the Puerto Rican territory, I'll be glad to write a letter of appreciation to the president of the United States."