The streets were lined with the townspeople of Risaralda. Lampposts, trees and fences were adorned with colorful decorations. A caravan led by six horses was followed by cars and motorbikes. There was anticipation in the air, the smell of traditional Colombian cuisine and champagne corks ready to pop.

It was not a national holiday or a local sporting event. It was not even a religious celebration. Yet, there was a lot to celebrate. Sgt. Erasmo Romero, a native of Risaralda -- a small town in Colombia's central province of Caldas -- was coming home. Romero was among the 15 people who were liberated in a daring rescue mission executed by the Colombian army a week before. There they were: his friends, his neighbors, his godmother, his grammar-school teacher and the local schoolchildren, all waiting to greet him.

The news had reverberated around the world. Ingrid Betancourt, the former Colombian presidential candidate, and three American citizens who had been held hostage by the leftist rebel group known as the FARC had been freed. Since then, a lot has been said of Betancourt and of Keith Stansell, Thomas Howes and Marc Gonsalves, the three contractors who were working for the U.S. government when their aircraft crashed in guerrilla-controlled territory. But, other than community celebrations and local news reports, little is known of the "other" 11 less-famous hostages.

Seven of them were members of the army, and the other four were part of a police brigade. Some had been held for as long as 10 years. They are all Colombian heroes, and at the very least they deserve a mention. They are: Lt. Juan Carlos Bermeo, 2nd Lt. Raimundo Malagon, Sgts. Jose Ricardo Marulanda and Erasmo Romero, Cpls. William Perez, Jose Miguel Arteaga and Armando Flores, Assistant Superintendent of Police Armando Castellanos, Lt. Vainey Rodriguez and police officers Julio Buitrago and John Jairo Duran.

July 2 began as another day of desperation for the Romero family, another day of waiting. But when news reports began to surface about a group of hostages who had been freed, the family gathered around the television set, their hearts pounding with the mention of each name. It had been close to 10 years in which they had no news from their loved one, 10 long years without knowing if he was dead or alive.

The mere mention of his name coming from the television generated a burst of euphoria among the members of this modest Colombian family. For his mother, sister and two brothers, the wait was over. It was just a matter of days, maybe hours, before they would be reunited. The freed hostages were first taken to the Colombian capital of Bogota, where Romero's wife and children were anxiously awaiting his return.

But there was no bigger thrill than the one his young son felt when he finally met his father. Julian Andres was born one month after his father was kidnapped, on Aug. 5, 1998, during a bloody assault by the FARC on the military base where he was stationed. His daughter, little Jessica, was 1 year old at the time.

During his time in captivity, he says he hoped his wife would show the children his picture. It was the dream of being reunited with them that helped him get through the living hell he had to endure. With the scars on his neck from a metal lock still visible, he described in a recent interview how most days he remained chained from 6 in the evening till 6 in the morning. The scars are still engraved in his memory.

For now, Romero is enjoying the simple things in life that were non-existent during his captivity, and is concentrating on making up for lost time with his family. But while he and the other released hostages are enjoying their new freedom, they are not losing sight of the almost 700 people who are still being held by the FARC in the jungles of Colombia. It is estimated that at least 25 of them are what is considered exchangeable -- in other words, they are law enforcement or political figures who can be used as valid forms of exchange for hundreds of rebels held in Colombian jails. But the rest are common, everyday people, caught in a dirty civil war that has brought so much pain and suffering. Like the townspeople of Risaralda, there are hundreds more ready to plan a welcome-home celebration.

Salinas can be reached at www.mariaesalinas.com.

(July 19, 2008)