Tattooed in my memory is the image of the typewriter bathed in blood.
With this old machine the coroner and forensic experts took the remarks at the crime scenes. A few hours earlier, the team of judicial officers had been massacred by guerrillas when attending a call to investigate and collect a body on the outskirts of Bogota. They were ambushed with explosives planted on the road and when the convoy stopped, the murderers finished off those who survived the explosions. One of the doctors used his body to shield an official and before dying whispered at her: play dead. She was found alive, covered in blood and under the bodies of his companions unharmed. Several of the dead were colleagues and friends, several weeks before I had accompanied this group to various legal proceedings. So I can not forget that typewriter, bathed in blood.
Read at El Financiero