DON'T GET ME STARTED 67became interested in foreign affairs when handling asylum cases for clients
from Iran and El Salvador. I learned a lot from my clients about the political
realities in both troubled countries, and found it much more fascinating than
studying torts or civil procedure. Working as a law clerk at the US Depart-
ment of Justice, I studied classified case files involving foreign narcotics and
organized crime figures. All of this peripheral exposure to foreign danger
and intrigue was new to me, and it only whetted my appetite for more.
I moved to DC just in time to grab a ringside seat to history in the
making. Ronald Reagan was elected president my first semester of law
school, and I witnessed his inauguration parade down Pennsylvania
Avenue. Exactly one week later, I stood again on Pennsylvania Avenue with
thousands of other Americans, basking in the emotion of the “hostage
parade” of fifty-two Americans just released from captivity in Iran. They
rode in DC Metro buses along the same route Reagan had taken one week
earlier, the joy and relief on their faces palpable. It was the end of a long
ordeal, for the hostages and for our nation. Little did I know at the time
that years later I’d face my own life-or-death standoff with that same fun-
damentalist Islamic regime. Observing the Iran hostage crisis unfold and
wishing I could do something about it was the start of my long but hardly
loving “relationship” with the Iranian government.
The following year, on Saturday, November 13, 1982, I took the Metro
from Pentagon City to the Foggy Bottom stop and then walked to the
National Mall for the official opening of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
Thousands of veterans, some wearing uniforms, some in jungle fatigues,
most with patches, insignia, and medals, made a cathartic pilgrimage to their
memorial near the Lincoln Memorial. America’s Vietnam veterans never
got a welcome home parade for a controversial war they valiantly fought but
were not responsible for. The atmosphere that clear, windy day was a little
raucous but mainly somber. The Wall soon became the most visited memo-
rial in Washington. I would learn more about the realities and horrors of that
war during CIA paramilitary and survival, evasion, resistance, and escape
(SERE) training, which was taught by CIA and military Vietnam veterans.
During law school I was also fortunate enough to work as an intern for
former US congressman John J. Rhodes. Rhodes was a decent and honor-
able man. A Republican, he was “old school” in that he was able to disagree
with his political foes without being disagreeable or disrespectful. Rhodes