The reporter had asked if the Americans would ''take over'' Cuba after Fidel Castro's fall. Mas Canosa reportedly replied, ''That's bull----. They haven't even been able to take over Miami. If we kicked them out of here, how could they possibly take over our own country?''

He refused my request for an interview about the controversy. In a July 19, 1994, column, I criticized his failure to explain what he had meant.

Not long afterward, however, his people called to ask if I'd be interested in meeting with him, if the conversation would not be used for publication. I agreed.

The invitation surprised me: Mas Canosa's bitter reproaches of The Herald were near peak intensity at the time. I would have expected to be lumped into the alleged anti-Cuban, pro-Castro conspiracy he so often accused this newspaper of conducting. But when we met at MasTec's Miami corporate offices, he told me that he felt my columns on the Cuban community had been fair, and that my recent criticism had not changed his view.

His light, casual banter reminded me of a father meeting his son's new school buddy for the first time. His charming demeanor might have been dismissed as a cagey tactic designed to disarm an enemy -- Mas Canosa knew politics and posturing as well as any player. But he was neither condescending nor bombastic that day -- traits I had expected to encounter.

It became clear Mas Canosa was genuinely upset that anyone would read a disrespect for the United States or its citizens into his El Pais comments. His unwavering focus was Cuba, no question. Yet he appreciated the United States in much the same way a rags-to-riches success would cherish someone who helped him when he had been a nobody. Mas Canosa gave me a videotape of comments he made to a congressional committee in which he gushed patriotic praise for his adopted country.

But I also left with the clear impression Mas Canosa meant exactly what he had said to El Pais. Mas Canosa clearly understood the power of power.

Miami's ascendant Cuban exiles did, in fact, drive a lot of rattled white, non-Hispanic Americans out of Miami.

The exiles did, in fact, surge past a largely paralyzed and resentful black community.

They did, in fact, become an influential national force with leverage beyond their numbers. Condemn Mas Canosa's lack of tact if you like, but the man was right: With him as their mercurial general, the Cuban exiles beat their hosts at their own game.

This shouldn't upset any native-born American -- this is the land of opportunity and competition. It shouldn't bother anyone that Cuban Americans have done so well here. Rather than condemning their success, I believe my own ethnic community, and others like it struggling to prosper, can learn from them.

So despite the non-Cuban caricature of Jorge Mas Canosa -- the myopic would-be dictator aspiring to replace Fidel Castro -- I admired the purity of his love for Cuba and his mission to free it. It's true his political power and wealth fed off each other. But his consuming vision gave him admirable stature against countless other wealthy and powerful men who waste life utterly devoid of purpose.

Jorge Mas Canosa's quest ended Sunday at age 58, short of realizing his free Cuba. He will remain a beloved and controversial figure in South Florida history.

Yet for all the ridicule he took from non-Cuban observers, Mas Canosa may have been better at being an American, in all its noble and dubious shades, than many of his American critics.