On May 3, 1942, Ben and Rita load their car for their long deferred honeymoon trip to her cousin's cottage near Vera Cruz. Miguel and Patricia see them off.
Miguel asks, "Why won't you tell me where you are going?"
"Because Ben and I have been married for over a year and this is the first time we have been able to get away. And I don't care if the store burns down or the world comes to an end. I do not want anybody bothering us."
Patricia shudders when she hears Maria say, "or if the world comes to an end." Is it a bad omen?
"Very well, my sister. I guess there is nothing to do but wish you and Ben a wonderful trip."
"Don't worry. We will see you in a week."
There are hugs all around. As the car pulls away, Miguel notices Patricia is crying.
"What's the matter, Patricia?"
"I do not know, but I feel something bad is going to happen. I am frightened."
"That is just superstition. Nothing bad is going to happen. You will see. They will be back before you know it."
The two watch the car until it disappears from view.
After their long drive to Vera Cruz, Rita parks their car by a market not far from the cottage. There they buy supplies for the next several days. When Ben and Rita emerge from the market they walk down the road which runs parallel to the Gulf of Mexico. Finally, they reach a marker by the side of the road. It is a large rock with a symbol of a heart on it.
Rita shouts with joy, "Here it is. If we walk into the brush, it should be close by. From here by the road, nobody can see it. Really private."
"Lead the way."
Rita and Ben walk into the brush. There is no trail, only very tall grass, bushes and trees. They literally have to fight their way through until they come upon the cottage. It's a small simple structure, similar to Cabin number 7 across the road from Lake Ontario where they spent one glorious night. They enter. The cottage is simply furnished. There is no telephone nor radio.
"This is some place," says Ben.
"It is going to be wonderful, my love. We have everything we need, a little food, a little wine, and each other. There's nobody around to disturb us. Nobody even knows where we are except my cousin in Houston and he can't call us. We can do what ever we want, whenever we want, for as long as we want, without any peering eyes."
"And what would you like to do first, my darling?"
Rita pushes Ben down on the bed.
"What do you think?"
She jumps on top of him and they begin to make love.
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Sunday, January 21, 2018
444 Days
On August 19, 1953, the democratically elected Iranian Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh's government was overthrown and replaced by the monarchical rule of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. The coup was actively supported by the United States (President Eisenhower) in order to protect its oil interests in Iran.
On January 16, 1979, after months of civil unrest, the Shah left Iran (for Egypt), never to return. Sixteen days later, Ayatollah Khomeini arrived in Iran (from France) after about fourteen years of exile (mostly in Iraq). Almost immediately, he became the unelected leader of the new theocratic government of Iran. On October 22, 1979, the Shah entered the United States to receive treatment for cancer.
On November 4, 1979, with the support of Khomeini, about 500 Iranian "students" climbed over the walls of the United States Embassy compound in Tehran and took 66 American diplomats and citizens hostage. Thirteen days later, Khomeini ordered the release of 8 African-American male hostages and all 5 of the female hostages, leaving 53 remaining. The Iranian government demanded the Shah's extradition in return for the hostages. The US (President Carter) refused.
On January 27, 1980, 6 American diplomats that had avoided the initial takeover of the US embassy and had been secretly hiding in the Canadian Embassy escaped Iran. A joint American-Canadian operation was able to sneak them out of the country via a Swissair flight to Zurich. A fictionalized version of these events was the basis for the 2012 film, Argo, which won three Academy Awards, including Best Picture. It was produced by, directed by and starred Ben Affleck.
On April 24, 1980, a rescue effort ordered by President Carter failed when two American military helicopters collided inside Iran, killing eight American soldiers.
Because of ill health, another hostage was released on July 11, 1980, leaving 52 in captivity.
On July 27, 1980, the Shah died while in Egypt receiving medical care. Then Iran demanded the US government hand over the Shah's assets in the US to gain the freedom of the hostages.
On January 19, 1981, US (President Carter) and Iranian governments signed an agreement in which Iran would release all remaining hostages in exchange for the US unfreezing Iranian government assets in US banks, estimated to be worth $8 billion dollars. The following day, January 20, 1981, 37 years ago yesterday, Ronald Reagan was inaugurated as the President of the United States. The 52 hostages were actually released a mere 20 minutes after Reagan assumed the presidency. They were held for 444 days.
During their captivity, the American hostages were subjected to "beatings, death threats, life without sunlight, isolation, hunger, filth, petty cruelties, and psychological torture."
Was it a coincidence that the release of the hostages came on the day of Reagan's inauguration, a man perceived as being a strong leader? Or was it a coincidence that the hostages were released on the day after Carter was no longer president, the man perceived as being responsible for permitting the Shah to escape punishment in Iran?
On January 16, 1979, after months of civil unrest, the Shah left Iran (for Egypt), never to return. Sixteen days later, Ayatollah Khomeini arrived in Iran (from France) after about fourteen years of exile (mostly in Iraq). Almost immediately, he became the unelected leader of the new theocratic government of Iran. On October 22, 1979, the Shah entered the United States to receive treatment for cancer.
On November 4, 1979, with the support of Khomeini, about 500 Iranian "students" climbed over the walls of the United States Embassy compound in Tehran and took 66 American diplomats and citizens hostage. Thirteen days later, Khomeini ordered the release of 8 African-American male hostages and all 5 of the female hostages, leaving 53 remaining. The Iranian government demanded the Shah's extradition in return for the hostages. The US (President Carter) refused.
On January 27, 1980, 6 American diplomats that had avoided the initial takeover of the US embassy and had been secretly hiding in the Canadian Embassy escaped Iran. A joint American-Canadian operation was able to sneak them out of the country via a Swissair flight to Zurich. A fictionalized version of these events was the basis for the 2012 film, Argo, which won three Academy Awards, including Best Picture. It was produced by, directed by and starred Ben Affleck.
On April 24, 1980, a rescue effort ordered by President Carter failed when two American military helicopters collided inside Iran, killing eight American soldiers.
Because of ill health, another hostage was released on July 11, 1980, leaving 52 in captivity.
On July 27, 1980, the Shah died while in Egypt receiving medical care. Then Iran demanded the US government hand over the Shah's assets in the US to gain the freedom of the hostages.
On January 19, 1981, US (President Carter) and Iranian governments signed an agreement in which Iran would release all remaining hostages in exchange for the US unfreezing Iranian government assets in US banks, estimated to be worth $8 billion dollars. The following day, January 20, 1981, 37 years ago yesterday, Ronald Reagan was inaugurated as the President of the United States. The 52 hostages were actually released a mere 20 minutes after Reagan assumed the presidency. They were held for 444 days.
During their captivity, the American hostages were subjected to "beatings, death threats, life without sunlight, isolation, hunger, filth, petty cruelties, and psychological torture."
Was it a coincidence that the release of the hostages came on the day of Reagan's inauguration, a man perceived as being a strong leader? Or was it a coincidence that the hostages were released on the day after Carter was no longer president, the man perceived as being responsible for permitting the Shah to escape punishment in Iran?
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Miss Elder
Between the staircase and the living room on the first floor of our house at 30 East Oneida Street in Oswego was an alcove which contained an upright piano. As I recall, each of my three older brothers took their turns taking lessons as required by our mother. When I was eight years-old (1953), it was my turn. My piano teacher was a woman in her thirties who lived with her parents in a house around the corner on East Third Street. I called her Miss Elder and later discovered her first name was Carol.
All my weekly lessons were on the grand piano at her house. There was a side door I would enter that led directly to the large room where her piano was. Our piano was only for practice as supervised by my mother.
Miss Elder, like many piano teachers (my daughter Rachel's as well), had a preference for classical music. Everything she taught me was of this type. However, inside our piano bench, I found sheet music for the Nineteenth Century American composer Stephen Collins Foster who wrote many popular songs such as Oh! Susanna, My Old Kentucky Home (played before the annual Kentucky Derby), Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair and Old Black Joe. I would have greatly preferred playing Foster's music, but Miss Elder said no.
Sometimes, Miss Elder's personality rubbed me the wrong way. Once when I arrived early for my class, I waited while she gave another student a lesson. He was having difficulty with a particular piece of music. Miss Elder kept criticizing him until she told me to play it for his benefit as she knew I could play it well. I was embarrassed for the other student.
Another time when I arrived for a class, Miss Elder's peculiar sense of humor came out. She told me I was mistaken, that she was not my piano teacher, that I was there in error. As I was not happy taking piano lessons, I took her at her word and turned around and walked home. By the time I arrived, she had called my mother and asked that I please return to her house. I had no choice.
Annually there would be a piano recital where all her students would perform in front of family and friends. This was not something I enjoyed, playing the piano in front of a large audience. Miss Elder had her students practice weeks before the event in order to maximize the effect on the parents, her employers.
At least once the recital was in an auditorium at a nearby Catholic church. Prior to the recital, we practiced there. As my parents had put a fear of being proselytized away from my Jewish religion into my head, it frightened me to walk through the church's corridors with its many paintings of Jesus Christ and various Catholic saints. It is ironic that I am now married to a Catholic woman and Catholic images are in our bedroom.
Three years after I started taking lessons, my family moved to a new home on the far west side of Oswego. To continue piano lessons would have required my mother to drive me back and forth to our old neighborhood. I believe if I had wanted to continue my mother would have done it. Since I didn't she was willing to allow me to stop.
However, my mother insisted that I call Miss Elder on the phone to give her the bad news. At that time I was very hesitant to use the phone due to my lack of social self-confidence. My mother was trying to push me to gain some. I jumped at the opportunity.
"Miss Elder, this is Blair calling. I won't be able to continue my piano lessons as my family is moving to another part of town."
There was dead silence on the other end of the line.
Finally, she responded, "Blair, does your mother know you are making this call?"
With glee, I put my mother on the phone who confirmed what I had said.
I didn't see Miss Elder again for about ten years. One evening when I was home from Penn, my parents and I were having dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Vince's Steakhouse on West Bridge Street. Miss Elder was with a group of friends at another table. I was happy to see her (as was she to see me), especially as there was no piano in the room.
My mother always told me that one day I would regret my decision to stop taking piano lessons. It's been over sixty years and I still have no regrets.
All my weekly lessons were on the grand piano at her house. There was a side door I would enter that led directly to the large room where her piano was. Our piano was only for practice as supervised by my mother.
Miss Elder, like many piano teachers (my daughter Rachel's as well), had a preference for classical music. Everything she taught me was of this type. However, inside our piano bench, I found sheet music for the Nineteenth Century American composer Stephen Collins Foster who wrote many popular songs such as Oh! Susanna, My Old Kentucky Home (played before the annual Kentucky Derby), Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair and Old Black Joe. I would have greatly preferred playing Foster's music, but Miss Elder said no.
Sometimes, Miss Elder's personality rubbed me the wrong way. Once when I arrived early for my class, I waited while she gave another student a lesson. He was having difficulty with a particular piece of music. Miss Elder kept criticizing him until she told me to play it for his benefit as she knew I could play it well. I was embarrassed for the other student.
Another time when I arrived for a class, Miss Elder's peculiar sense of humor came out. She told me I was mistaken, that she was not my piano teacher, that I was there in error. As I was not happy taking piano lessons, I took her at her word and turned around and walked home. By the time I arrived, she had called my mother and asked that I please return to her house. I had no choice.
Annually there would be a piano recital where all her students would perform in front of family and friends. This was not something I enjoyed, playing the piano in front of a large audience. Miss Elder had her students practice weeks before the event in order to maximize the effect on the parents, her employers.
At least once the recital was in an auditorium at a nearby Catholic church. Prior to the recital, we practiced there. As my parents had put a fear of being proselytized away from my Jewish religion into my head, it frightened me to walk through the church's corridors with its many paintings of Jesus Christ and various Catholic saints. It is ironic that I am now married to a Catholic woman and Catholic images are in our bedroom.
Three years after I started taking lessons, my family moved to a new home on the far west side of Oswego. To continue piano lessons would have required my mother to drive me back and forth to our old neighborhood. I believe if I had wanted to continue my mother would have done it. Since I didn't she was willing to allow me to stop.
However, my mother insisted that I call Miss Elder on the phone to give her the bad news. At that time I was very hesitant to use the phone due to my lack of social self-confidence. My mother was trying to push me to gain some. I jumped at the opportunity.
"Miss Elder, this is Blair calling. I won't be able to continue my piano lessons as my family is moving to another part of town."
There was dead silence on the other end of the line.
Finally, she responded, "Blair, does your mother know you are making this call?"
With glee, I put my mother on the phone who confirmed what I had said.
I didn't see Miss Elder again for about ten years. One evening when I was home from Penn, my parents and I were having dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Vince's Steakhouse on West Bridge Street. Miss Elder was with a group of friends at another table. I was happy to see her (as was she to see me), especially as there was no piano in the room.
My mother always told me that one day I would regret my decision to stop taking piano lessons. It's been over sixty years and I still have no regrets.
Sunday, January 7, 2018
12 Angry Men
The 1957 film 12 Angry Men was co-produced by and starred the Academy Award winner Henry Fonda (1982, Best Actor, On Golden Pond). Among the other fine actors in it were Lee J. Cobb, Martin Balsam, Jack Klugman, E. G. Marshall and Jack Warden. The American Film Institute (AFI) listed it as the second best courtroom drama (behind only To Kill a Mockingbird). It was nominated for three Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Director (Sidney Lumet) and Best Writing of Adapted Screenplay (Reginald Rose). All three were won by The Bridge on the River Kwai.
In the film Fonda is one of the 12 jurors who are charged with deciding if a teenage boy accused of murdering his father is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Initially, when the 12 are in the jury room, before any deliberations, all but Fonda vote guilty. He insists they talk about the case before sending the boy off to be executed (mandatory punishment under state law with a guilty verdict).
Over the next hour and a half, Fonda convinces all the others that there is a reasonable doubt that the boy is guilty. However, during that time, the 12 vehemently argue over the evidence in the case. Hence, the title, 12 Angry Men.
Whenever I see this excellent movie I am reminded of my own personal experiences being on juries many years ago in Queens County, New York. The first was a case of burglary (entry into a building illegally with the intention of committing a crime). The defendant was accused of climbing a ladder to the bedroom window of a residence where, immediately after entering, he was confronted by the homeowner. He escaped using the same ladder and fled the area. He stole nothing. The police, with the homeowner's identification, captured the man later the same evening.
I was not entirely convinced of the guilt of the accused while the prosecution presented its evidence. There was only one witness and nothing was stolen. However, the defense put the accused on the stand and he came across as a terrible liar. The accused accused the homeowner of holding a grudge against him as he was allegedly having an affair with the homeowner's wife. She believably testified that the story of an affair was a lie.
It did not take us (the jury) long to vote for a conviction. I think the decision of the accused to testify (not required under the Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution) was a mistake. Some time afterwards I saw the defense attorney shopping in my neighborhood and was tempted to discuss the case with him, but didn't.
Years later, I was again on a jury, this time two brothers were accused of assaulting two police officers. Eventually, it came out during the testimony that the police officers arrived on the scene after receiving a report drugs were being sold. They confronted one brother who denied he was selling drugs. A fight broke out and the second brother (who was some distance away) joined the fray.
The court heard about the fight from the two police officers and from eyewitnesses who were friends and family of the accused. The testimony from the two sides was contradictory but convincing. I couldn't tell who was lying and who was telling the truth. Or maybe they were all lying.
We started deliberating near lunch time and were asked for our food choices. One juror asked "How do you spell filet mignon." It was not on the menu.
In both of the juries I served on I was impressed with my fellow-jurors (average New Yorkers) in that we all took our responsibilities very seriously. If I were on trial, I would want one of those juries deciding my fate.
After deliberating for some hours, we were sequestered at a hotel near the JFK Airport for the night. Before retiring to our rooms, we had dinner together, 12 jurors plus 4 court security officers. I asked if we could attend the Halloween party that was going on at the hotel. Request denied. We had to stay in our rooms, but were protected by the security that remained in the corridor all night.
We reached a compromise verdict the next morning. The first brother was found guilty, while the second was not. It was considered that he was only doing what a brother might reasonably do when seeing his sibling in a fight, especially two against one. When the verdict was announced, there was tension in the courtroom. Numerous security guards surrounded the accused. All the many spectators were their friends and family.
After the verdict was announced, the jury was brought into the judge's chamber where she thanked us for our service. She also arranged for taxis to take all 12 of us to our homes. I was nervous about walking to the subway past the friends and family who might want to take revenge against us for the conviction we voted for. It is not easy to serve on a jury, but it is a necessary public service. Recently former President Obama reported for jury duty in Chicago.
For the record, in Brazil "jury trials are reserved for crimes against life that involve criminal intent or recklessness." In such trials, seven jurors will hear the evidence and vote whether they believe the accused is guilty or innocent (not the same as not guilty in the USA). Only a simple majority is necessary to reach a decision. In a non-jury trial, a sole judge decides the case.
In the film Fonda is one of the 12 jurors who are charged with deciding if a teenage boy accused of murdering his father is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Initially, when the 12 are in the jury room, before any deliberations, all but Fonda vote guilty. He insists they talk about the case before sending the boy off to be executed (mandatory punishment under state law with a guilty verdict).
Over the next hour and a half, Fonda convinces all the others that there is a reasonable doubt that the boy is guilty. However, during that time, the 12 vehemently argue over the evidence in the case. Hence, the title, 12 Angry Men.
Whenever I see this excellent movie I am reminded of my own personal experiences being on juries many years ago in Queens County, New York. The first was a case of burglary (entry into a building illegally with the intention of committing a crime). The defendant was accused of climbing a ladder to the bedroom window of a residence where, immediately after entering, he was confronted by the homeowner. He escaped using the same ladder and fled the area. He stole nothing. The police, with the homeowner's identification, captured the man later the same evening.
I was not entirely convinced of the guilt of the accused while the prosecution presented its evidence. There was only one witness and nothing was stolen. However, the defense put the accused on the stand and he came across as a terrible liar. The accused accused the homeowner of holding a grudge against him as he was allegedly having an affair with the homeowner's wife. She believably testified that the story of an affair was a lie.
It did not take us (the jury) long to vote for a conviction. I think the decision of the accused to testify (not required under the Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution) was a mistake. Some time afterwards I saw the defense attorney shopping in my neighborhood and was tempted to discuss the case with him, but didn't.
Years later, I was again on a jury, this time two brothers were accused of assaulting two police officers. Eventually, it came out during the testimony that the police officers arrived on the scene after receiving a report drugs were being sold. They confronted one brother who denied he was selling drugs. A fight broke out and the second brother (who was some distance away) joined the fray.
The court heard about the fight from the two police officers and from eyewitnesses who were friends and family of the accused. The testimony from the two sides was contradictory but convincing. I couldn't tell who was lying and who was telling the truth. Or maybe they were all lying.
We started deliberating near lunch time and were asked for our food choices. One juror asked "How do you spell filet mignon." It was not on the menu.
In both of the juries I served on I was impressed with my fellow-jurors (average New Yorkers) in that we all took our responsibilities very seriously. If I were on trial, I would want one of those juries deciding my fate.
After deliberating for some hours, we were sequestered at a hotel near the JFK Airport for the night. Before retiring to our rooms, we had dinner together, 12 jurors plus 4 court security officers. I asked if we could attend the Halloween party that was going on at the hotel. Request denied. We had to stay in our rooms, but were protected by the security that remained in the corridor all night.
We reached a compromise verdict the next morning. The first brother was found guilty, while the second was not. It was considered that he was only doing what a brother might reasonably do when seeing his sibling in a fight, especially two against one. When the verdict was announced, there was tension in the courtroom. Numerous security guards surrounded the accused. All the many spectators were their friends and family.
After the verdict was announced, the jury was brought into the judge's chamber where she thanked us for our service. She also arranged for taxis to take all 12 of us to our homes. I was nervous about walking to the subway past the friends and family who might want to take revenge against us for the conviction we voted for. It is not easy to serve on a jury, but it is a necessary public service. Recently former President Obama reported for jury duty in Chicago.
For the record, in Brazil "jury trials are reserved for crimes against life that involve criminal intent or recklessness." In such trials, seven jurors will hear the evidence and vote whether they believe the accused is guilty or innocent (not the same as not guilty in the USA). Only a simple majority is necessary to reach a decision. In a non-jury trial, a sole judge decides the case.
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