Dark—and Darker–Times

I was born in 1942, just 10 months after Pearl Harbor and our entry into what would become known as World War II.  Uncles were in the war. One died in the last months of the war in the Pacific; I knew Uncle Russell only from talk and pictures, one of him in his...

An Old Indian Pattern

The stock market is setting records at every mention of a cease fire in Gaza, Iran, or Lebanon, and as each ship crosses Hormuz. Sometimes there is disappointment, and the market briefly plunges, but it is ready to leap back at the next bit of good news. And the...

War by Assassination

I am not an historian, but have read considerably in American, Native American, and Middle Eastern history. And I think the use of and dependence on assassination in war is a folly. Common sense and history tell us that when a leader is assassinated from the outside,...

Women of Iran 2

I have great memories of stern-looking, uniformed women guiding traffic at the center of Tehran’s busiest intersections on my month-long visit in 1968—they were human traffic signals. And fond memories too of beautiful, scantily clad Iranian women with their handsome...