The hostages are free!

Sometimes your little life overlaps with historic events.

I’ve already written about the nation’s bicentennial and how I was there to see President Ford speak at the Old North Bridge in Concord in April 1976. I was ten.

I was reminded of another historic event while watching President Carter’s funeral this week—the Iranian hostage crisis (1979-81). American GenXers will remember this because it was such a BIG deal. Everyone knew about it. Yellow ribbons were everywhere.

In a nutshell: In November 1979, Iranian militants stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, taking 52 American diplomats and citizens hostage, including Bill Keough, a former school superintendent in my town. The hostage takers were mad at the U.S. for supporting the deposed “Shah” of Iran.

They kept those poor people captive for 444(!) days—in very harsh conditions—led by the evil “Ayatollah Khomeini.” (Every GenXer knows how to say that guy’s name because it was on the news every single night.) Diplomatic efforts failed, and a U.S. military rescue mission, Operation Eagle Claw, ended in disaster in April 1980, killing eight servicemen. This severely damaged President Jimmy Carter’s administration and contributed to his loss in the 1980 election. The hostages were released on January 20, 1981, just minutes after Ronald Reagan’s inauguration, following the signing of the Algiers Accords (for which the Carter administration did all the legwork).

When the hostages were finally released, everyone watched with bated breath and there was widespread jubilation, especially in my town where we knew one of them! My high school marching band was invited to participate in a massive homecoming parade for Mr. Keough.

As one of the “goose-fleshed majorettes,” I mainly remember how COLD it was. I was 16, with not an ounce of fat on me, wearing a short little dress and holding a cold metal stick — in Massachusetts in FEBRUARY. Having recently compared notes with one of the “rosy-cheeked trumpeters,” I was reminded that our band director Mr. Toland made a last-minute decision to nix “The Empire Strikes Back” (one of our favorite numbers to perform) as we approached the grandstand. I guess he “read the room” and realized Darth Vader’s theme song was not the thing to play when celebrating triumph over the actual Evil Empire (Iran).

I was not political in high school. My parents didn’t talk much about politics (possibly because they were on opposite sides of the fence) and I cared way more about my hair than inflation or gas prices. But watching President Carter’s moving funeral, I was struck by how little credit he got for the hostage release. In The Boston Globe article above, Mr. Keough gave President Carter and his team full credit and gratitude for getting him home:

“Keough took the occasion, as he would again at a ceremony after the parade, to praise the handling of the hostage crisis by former President Jimmy Carter and his negotiating team “even in the face of personal disasters in their own careers.” “We are thankful that our President made the right decisions all along the way.” he said, adding his “eternal gratitude to the eight young men who died trying to rescue us and who will live in my memory and I hope in yours.”

GenX, if you didn’t get a chance to watch President Carter’s funeral and have time for only one clip, I suggest you watch President Ford’s eulogy, delivered by his son Steve. It’s hard to imagine that this level of grace and humility in politics existed in our lifetime.

Here I am in my skinny majorette days practicing with the marching band.

I’m so old, I remember the…

Daily writing prompt
What major historical events do you remember?

BICENTENNIAL

This prompt sent me thinking back on many events — some happy, some sad — but the earliest memory I have of a major historical event is the Bicentennial. Yes, I’m THAT old.

I grew up in the birthplace of the American Revolution. I could ride my bike to both the Lexington Green and the center of Concord, Massachusetts. My hometown, Bedford, was best known for having the nation’s oldest battle flag. As you can imagine, the Bicentennial was a huge deal for us.

President Ford visited the area for Patriot’s Day in April 1975 to kick-off the nation’s big birthday year. (Patriot’s Day is a special Massachusetts holiday where we celebrate the beginning of the American Revolution: “the shot heard round the world”) I went to see President Ford speak in Concord at the Old North Bridge. I was nine. I mainly remember my oufit. My mother made full colonial dresses with aprons and hats for my sister and me. She actually made us two hats each — a bonnet (in the picure) and a white colonial Martha Washington hat. We wore those outfits a lot that year. (Parades, parades, and more parades!) I vaguely remember seeing President Ford at the Old North Bridge, but the secret service frogmen in the water under the bridge made a bigger impression. The idea that the President needed intense, 24-hour protection was new to me.

The funny thing is that last year I took a visiting friend to The Old Manse in Concord and the tour guide told us about a whole different side of that same day. Apparently there were thousands of teenagers (including her) and some well-known musicians camped out near the bridge. They were supposedly protesting Ford’s visit to Concord (he had pardoned Nixon the year before), but she said it turned into a wild, debauched party, with fantastic music. She made it sound like a mini-Woodstock! It was weird because I didn’t remember hearing about any of that, but I did find a story about it in The New York Times. Somebody needs to make a documentary about what really went on in Concord that day.

President Ford at the Bicentennial Commemoration, Old North Bridge, April 1975
“Across the Concord River were 20,000 youthful demonstrators, bleary-eyed from a night of listening to radical speeches and songs, partying and drinking beer, sleeping in the rain, many waving the yellow flag of the early Revolutionary period emblazoned with a coiled rattlesnake and the motto, “Don’t Tread on Me.”
Me in my Bicentennial costume, made by my mom