My sweetheart Steve has a million stories. Someday I'll whip out a digital recorder and make a huge file on my laptop with all of them. Then I'll convert that into a book. Next year. Not now.
One August night several years ago we were in the swimming pool, trying to make ourselves feel better about living on the surface of the sun. Steve began telling me about his time in Iran, back in 1979 and 1980. In case you're wondering; he was 21 years old and I was in Kindergarten. It is what it is.
He talked about the food, the people, the sand dunes that he and his friends would ride on their motorcycles. They worked for Bell helicopters at a military base (doing helicopter maintenance I believe) and they were making CRAZY money. When you're young and someone's willing to pay you a lot of money to do what you love, you ignore the U.S. State Dept when they say, "Get out of Iran you are not safe."
After the political climate turned more than a little sour, and the uprising began, Steve and his co-workers found themselves being sequestered on the base. This was for a while; they couldn't leave as they'd become accustomed to, and they pretty much lost all their freedoms. Iran was in the middle of a civil war. Steve said at night it was as if the psychos got off their leashes. Cars upside down and on fire in the streets (that's how Steve found his when he returned to his rented home one evening) gunfire everywhere, and explosions.
Initially, during the day, it was rather peaceful. People did their jobs, acted as if nothing was wrong. At night, everything turned into L.A. during the Rodney King riots. Things worsened.
Since this was a religious civil war, the focus centered on anything that was "westernized." Women were suddenly not allowed to dress in blue jeans or American fashions. A music store that carried American type music was promptly fire bombed. A disco was barricaded and fire bombed, with all the people in it. There's a thousand more examples of the horrifying things that were going on there.
Of course, the State Dept was repeatedly telling these U.S. contractors like Steve to get out of Iran. When finally it became evident that they truly were in danger, Steve and his co-workers set out to leave. They needed to get to the airport, which turned out to be nearly impossible. There were machine gun checkpoints that wouldn't let them thru. They were turned back several times. There was violence everywhere. Eventually they found themselves being held at gunpoint, with the gunmen screaming at them.
They were hostages.
They were taken by bus to the Hilton in Tehran, and told to go get a room. The hotel had been blown out, no windows and huge gashes in the walls from bombs and bullets. They could hear the popping of gunfire outside in the streets. They huddled in their rooms waiting for instruction. Meanwhile, an Associated Press photo appeared in U.S. newspapers. It was American hostages, being marched with their hands on their heads thru Tehran. Steve's mom hadn't heard from him in over a month, and suddenly he's there in that newspaper photo. She begins calling the Hilton in Tehran to try to see if he's okay, and after quite some time she manages to get thru. The man answering the phone shouted, "Yankee go home!" and hung up.
After some time the hostages are marched to a bus, and taken to the airport. Seated on a plane, they are asked repeatedly for their documentation. The Iranians wouldn't let them go. They sit for a long time, watching the chaos outside. They begin to get frustrated because it's apparent they're not going anywhere.
Then they hear a voice over the airplane's intercom. It's an American captain, he announces that he's taking responsibility for the flight and the doors were to be closed and sealed. When the Iranians see the plane's doors closing they begin running over with their guns drawn. They chase the jet as it picks up speed down the runway. As the captain takes off the chatter from the Iranians is broadcast over the plane's intercom. Of course they're demanding that the plane land. No way.
They take off and are very quickly flanked by Iranian fighter jets. No one could breathe as they they anticipated being shot down. Soon the Turkish border is reached and the Iranian fighter jets are replaced by American fighter jets. Yes! Maverick and Goose!!! Maybe Iceman as well....
Steve remembers looking closer at the flight crew at this point, and he realized they were military dressed to look like Delta Airlines staff. Kinda cool.
So why am I telling this looooong story? Because Saturday night Steve got to talking to a friend of mine and it turns out this friend (Dennis) was in Iran the same time.
He was working for Northrop on their military stuff and both he and Steve were just floored to be meeting someone who'd shared their experiences.
Like I said, someday I'll compile all these tales and get them in a book. This is certainly the Reader's Digest Condensed version of the story!
