During the summer of 1963, I, along with my brother,
accompanied our parents to Cairo, Egypt via a trans-Atlantic voyage on the
Holland Line (first class) and several airplane (second class) stops in Europe, specifically Italy, Greece,
and Turkey.
We arrived in Cairo early in the afternoon of an
extremely hot but low humidity day in September, knowing that the school year
had already started and we would have to catch up on all of our studies.
Our family was temporarily housed in the Embassy
Guest House which was 4 stories high with small apartment areas on each
floor.
I immediately claimed the top
floor as “my space” to which the rest of the family agreed since no one but me
was willing to walk up all those flights of stairs.
Attending school was a real “shocker” for me because
grades 1-12 were all housed within the same compound beside a military camel
depot that took me weeks to ignore the smell.
There was very little grass inside the compound with sun and sand was
everywhere, making it imperative that I wear wrap-around sun glasses all the
time.
Making friends was easy but “fitting in” not so as I
soon discovered further broken down into smaller clicks of people who had been
in foreign service for several years to those who had been in Egypt so long
that they spoke fluent Arabic.
Sami Wahab, an Ethiopian with an infectious smile
and black as the “Ace of Spades,” took me under his tutelage and we soon became
the best of friends. From the very
beginning, he talked with me in class and sat with me during lunch, outside at
picnic table under a large canvas canopy.
It was through his introductions that I got to know all the other
students: 28 students representing 18
different countries.
One evening as I lay on the bed in my 4th
floor sanctuary listening to music from a transistor radio tuned in on Voice of
America, I was startled by my mother yelling up at me that I had a telephone
call. It was about 9:30 pm in the
evening of 11-22-63 that I took the phone receiver from my mom and listened to
Sami Wahab tell me that the President of the United States had just been
killed.
We talked a few minutes then I politely told Sami I
needed to go and shared the news with my parents regarding what Sami had
said. And, try as I might, I recall no
more about that evening. The truth was
verified at breakfast the next morning and our school day was far from
ordinary.
None of us could really believe what had just
happened and being so far away, we did not get a chance to experience what we
heard was taking place in America. But,
one thing is for sure, my life… our
lives… were forever altered as that
which we thought would never happen, happened.
Life was no longer simple.
Life was no longer innocent.
The joys of life were over-shadowed by life’s
ugliness and we all changed… and, we
never returned to the way it was before.
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