I don’t know how many of you have been around the world. The internet makes it where you don’t really need to go. But I’m here to tell you, it’s not like the pictures. They don’t give you the smells, or anything but beautiful scenery. We can look at pictures!
As many of you know, I spent a year and a half in Israel, and I can attest to the bad smells and dirty people, but beyond that I loved my time in Jerusalem. I interviewed many important figures including Gideon Hausner, who prosecuted Adolph Eichmann. I generally got a feel for the place, learned there are neighborhoods where they will throw rocks at you if you’re driving on the Sabbath, and almost went to jail for spitting a pistachio shell in the direction of a weird holy man.
I don’t ever want to go back, but that was then and this is now. To tell you the truth, I don’t even want to leave East Texas, except to go back to Pasadena and show the kids.
Way back in the Seventies (if you can remember), when my Dad offered me the opportunity to go to Israel, I jumped at it. Not that I hadn’t been in trouble, I had. One time I invited the college kids and had a big party at Mom and Dad’s house. Oh, baby. It didn’t turn out well. Before you knew it, half the college was there, along with trouble. I had to interview with the counselors, and almost got thrown out. Luckily, I wasn’t attending college at the time, so what were they to do?
People suspected it was because of the party, but that never came up in discussions with Dad. So I knew there were whispers behind my back, but didn’t much care. I had a ‘69 Mach 1 that I hated to leave, but the offer was too much. I ditched the car with a friend of mine and got on an airplane.
My Dad wrote me a letter that I read when I got on the plane. I’ll have to dig that out one of these days. He warned me about the culture and what I might encounter, but it was very upbeat and I took it seriously. The war in Lebanon had not started yet, and I sent money with friends who were going and got clothes. They used to call Beirut the Paris of the Middle East. I doubt if anybody refers to it that way now.
I learned many things, but one thing I’ve kept with me is that the Arabs tell impossible stories. You can’t believe them. As Mom used to say, they’d lie when the truth would do better. I heard many stories, most of them you couldn’t believe. The Arabs are impossible braggarts. That’s why I’m suspicious of any deal that Trump might make with Iran. I know they’re not Arabs, but I think that bragging excessively is a Middle Eastern habit.
Anyway, I returned home successfully, after many harrowing experiences. One time I received a Telex (the internet wasn’t invented yet) explaining that my Grandad, HWA was coming. I dutifully went to Tel Aviv to make the arrangements for a luncheon. I arrived at the chosen location to the smell of acrid smoke. The place had burned down, and another location would have to be found. Why me?
I found another location, and it was the top floor of a tall building. I met my Grandfather and his entourage, and we sat down for lunch, during which he waxed eloquent about, “It’s not good for man to be alone…” Apparently this was a speech he’d given before. If you were around you probably heard it. Immediately, his future wife was at his side telling him to be careful. I piped up and said something like it wouldn’t matter if he remarried, but… Oh, those were the days.
The lucheon came off without a hitch, and I escaped criticism except for my Grandfather telling me that I was a “smart young man.” I don’t think he meant intelligent. It didn’t spoil the occasion, however, and we all went home with full bellies. Him, no doubt to one of the finest hotels. I escaped back to Jerusalem thinking I had done a pretty good job.
He was very kind to me. Invited me to the Rose Bowl game that O.J. played in. He backed out at the last minute, and I took a girlfriend. But it was exciting. He took me to several Laker’s games. He was a kindly gentleman, but stern.
I’ve had the opportunity to travel many places around the world and there is no place like the United States of America. There are things we take for granted, like standing in line without having to fight for your spot or driving in your own lane without using your horn.
We value law and order, without having to have a guard with a machine gun on every floor of a hotel, like I encountered in the Caribbean.
We should thank God for the United States of America and the blessing that it is to us and the world.
