January 2016

I was in a car on Saturday, March 24th, when in highly Venezuelan fashion, I was texted through WhatsApp with the sad news.  Maestro Abreu had passed.  My knee-jerk reaction was a professional reflex, one honed after many years in Maestro’s office:  confirm the news, get the facts, make a plan, offer assistance… For the rest of the ride, I was furiously typing and calling making sure the information was handled correctly and in as respectful a fashion as he merited.  The sniffling and tears were set aside; there was work to be done.