I walked out the terminal doors and spotted the gold Chevy Malibu. I gave a hesitant I'm not sure if we'll understand each other so well wave. Salah took my suitcase and plopped it in the trunk. My backpack was still on my shoulder as I headed for the passenger door. "My friend, look at this trunk," he said while gesturing like a Price is Right model, "there is plenty of room." Now unencumbered, I settled in for the thirty minute ride. I didn't know that in a few moments I'd wish I had my journal from the backpack. I needed to be taking notes on Uber Perspective coming from the Living Lesson driving the gold Malibu.
After our 30 minute drive, I asked Salah if I could share a little of his story, fearing it might be dangerous for him or his family. With a huge smile - displaying many missing teeth, which you'll understand in a moment - he gave his wholehearted permission.
UBER PERSPECTIVE
If you ask Salah, he will say he is an Okie. As testimony, the Malibu radio is tuned to a local country station. He loves Oklahoma. "We Okies smile," he tells me. It's one of the things he cherishes about living here.
Salah is originally from Baghdad, Iraq and holds a degree in Mechanical Engineering. As the owner of an internet communications company he was asked by a friend to help out on a project. What Salah didn't know at the time was that his friend - along with four others - had been working with the US Army. Salah was asked to set up communications for a US Army base in Basra. He initially declined. "They will kill me," he said, speaking of the Iraqi militia and/or Al-Qaeda. Eventually he agreed to fly in, set up communications and immediately fly out.
He was so effective in doing the work that he was asked to stay. The man he affectionately calls "my Captain," said to him, "I have 700 soldiers here who need to talk to home; and it's Christmas. I need you." Salah stayed. For three years. He worked as a liaison, translator, technical expert, and in areas he couldn't say.
Salah has a wife and three children in Iraq. (They are still there, along with parents). He had been working with the US Army for over a year when he finally admitted to his wife his incredibly dangerous secret. Actually, the broken nose and multiple blown out teeth he suffered from a barrage of shells on the base forced his hand. "She cried all night," he said, "she feared I would be killed." Of the six - Salah and his five friends - he alone survived. His house was used for target practice several times and his car was bombed.
"My Captain" came through for Salah. He orchestrated getting him to America before he was killed. It was a long and arduous process. Salah is still working to get his wife and children the US; to become Okies. "My Captain" remains Salah's dear friend.
Salah has seen things I hope never to see. He has lost more than I can imagine. He has sacrificed more than I ever could. Yet his smile is huge. I hope I can learn to smile as wide. I was humbled sitting next to the man with the Uber Perspective driving the gold Malibu.
(As I stated, I wish I'd had my journal as we drove. I've tried to be as accurate as possible; as you can imagine, there was a lot of information shared in a short time. Also, I've waited until Salah's latest trip to Iraq was complete before sharing. It was my choice - not his request. He recently returned, and I owe him the promised lunch. This time I will have my journal.)
For now...
D
