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| Klaus Nalu as a young man in Baghdad. (Family photo) |
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| Patrick Nalu and his father, Klaus Nalu, in front of their home in Barnwell, Ala. (Photo by G.M. Andrews) |
Posted on 05/29/2004 6:02:57 PM PDT by Incorrigible
BY ROY HOFFMAN
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BARNWELL, Ala. -- Down a bucolic county highway, in front of a white frame house owned by a man born and reared in Baghdad, there are two flags flying -- the red, white and blue of the United States, and the blue with white insignia of the U.S. Marine Corps.
They have been flying every day since the beginning of the Iraq war, says Klaus Nalu, 67, gazing up at the banners with his son, Patrick, 22, standing beside him.
The American flag is there because Nalu is devoted to his country -- he became a U.S. citizen in 1984 -- and the Marine Corps flag is there because he loves his son. He can hardly look at lean, dark-haired Patrick, who joined the Marine Reserves in 2001, without breaking into a smile.
In 1962, Nalu wasn't much older than Patrick when, at the age of 25, he left the nation where his Catholic family had lived for "generations and generations. Forever."
He has never returned. Now, his son is going for the first time.
"I have no feeling for that country," Klaus Nalu says. "Here," he emphasizes, looking around at the sweep of southern Alabama fields, "is my homeland."
Patrick recently got the call from his commanding officer. He was told his Reserve unit based in Bessemer, Ala., was being deployed. Come this July, Patrick learned, he would be heading out to Iraq.
"Well," says his father, "it was expected."
Patrick says his friends kid that he's going "back to the motherland," but he never has traveled to that part of the world before.
His father's brothers and sisters, Iraqi emigres who have settled in Detroit, are cheering on his endeavors, Patrick says. He is the first of the new American-born cousins to wear a U.S. military uniform.
His father insists that his pride in Patrick would be the same whatever his destination. "I will be happy if he goes anywhere and helps people win their freedom."
But Nalu does reveal an intensity of feeling about the land of his youth and how he aches to see it change, even to the point of picking up arms himself.
"If they will take me," the ruggedly compact but aging father says defiantly, "I will go there."
The Baghdad of his youth, Nalu says, seemed as Western as it did Middle Eastern, like a Paris of the Fertile Crescent.
As the eldest of seven brothers and sisters, Nalu grew up in comfortable surroundings. His father worked as a director of transportation for King Faisal II, a pro-Western monarch. His home had eight bedrooms.
Nalu tells of a neighborhood, in his memory, where people of different backgrounds lived harmoniously. Among his parents' associates were Iraqi Jews and Muslims. Most of the Jews eventually left.
But the smaller, more intimate community he was part of was made up of Chaldeans -- an ancient line of Iraqi Christians tracing their origins back to King Nebuchadnezzar, who created the hanging gardens of Babylon.
The Chaldean language is close to Hebrew, Nalu says. "We are not Arabs."
Flourishing as a young man in Baghdad, Nalu dressed like a Westerner, enjoyed culture like a European, worked for a company selling Chevrolets. Family photographs from those days show the older generations in Middle Eastern garb, but the young people in jackets, bow ties, dresses.
Shaking his head, Nalu alludes to transformations of the Iraq of his youth: the assassination of King Faisal in 1958, the rise of Arab nationalism, the emergence of the Baath party. By the early 1960s, Nalu had decided it was time to leave. One day, he traveled to Germany.
"I just left," he says matter-of-factly.
He lived in Germany and still keeps a picture of the German city of Dusseldorf in his house. He and his wife, Trish, a native of Holland, communicate in English and German.
But it was the United States, which Nalu began to visit, that captivated him. He and Trish married and headed for America "with $2,000 and a couple of suitcases. It was 1976." He beams, recalling that it was the year of the U.S. bicentennial.
"USA is the paradise of the world," he says. "You don't know you are living in the paradise of the world if you don't go to see other countries."
Starting out in Detroit, Nalu worked for the FBI, then moved to Birmingham, Ala., with the federal agency and then to Mobile in 1996. He retired from the FBI two years ago. "I was a technician," he says.
After retiring he took a job as a bell captain at Marriott's Grand Hotel in Point Clear, just a couple of miles from his home. In addition to Patrick, he and Trish have two daughters: Jennifer, who practices law in Daphne, Ala.; and Nicolette, a schoolteacher in Mobile.
Over the years, his own brothers and sisters, several of whom had risen to positions of prominence in Iraq during the regime of Saddam Hussein, fled the country. Soon they were all relocated in Detroit, raising their own children there.
Trish, from her Dutch perspective, says that being married into an Iraqi family is "like being in the movie, `My Big Fat Greek Wedding."'
Family, food, community -- those are the defining aspects of her experiences as an in-law in the Nalu clan. She says her husband may dismiss his Iraqi ties but his family, its culture, is very Middle Eastern.
Nalu says he doesn't usually offer, without prompting, that he is Iraqi.
"Some people think all Iraqis are crazy people," says Patrick.
His father admits: "A lady asks me the other day, `Nalu? What kind of name is that? Are you Hawaiian?' I answer her, `Yes, I am Hawaiian."'
Patrick is curious to see if he finds any Nalus in Iraq. He even has a relative who was a high-ranking military official in the Iraqi army who left the country under Saddam but has now returned.
As far as the war goes, the Nalus, father and son, have no questions about the right approach.
"I am for the war. In 10 minutes the military can win this," Nalu says. He puts the blame for the slowdown on politics. He says there is rebuilding going on in the country and that "95 percent of the people want democracy. You don't see these things."
When Saddam was captured, the Nalus were on vacation in Florida. They watched the news in a hotel.
As he recalls the moment now, Nalu nearly jumped up and down with excitement. "I saw the TV. I said," -- he punches his fist in the air -- "`All right!"'
Outside of Nalu's home is a small arbor. He says he likes to come out to the arbor at dawn, sit at a table, drink coffee, smoke. Three acres of pasture, all his own.
Sometimes his Detroit relatives come to visit. "They are Yankees," he says. "`Too hot,' they say." He laughs.
Patrick comes to the arbor to join him. Nalu lights a small cigar, puffs it, looks at his son. A wind rises. The flags flap smartly in front of the house.
Patrick knows that Iraq is dangerous, he says, but he is set to do his duty. Unless plans are changed, he fully expects, before the summer is out, to be in the land of his ancestors in an artillery unit.
Is Nalu worried about his son? The risks, the deadly perils, of the country he himself left so long ago?
"My son is like the other sons fighting there now. As much as I love my son," he pauses, speaking with resolve, "I love them, too."
May 28, 2004
(Roy Hoffman is writer-in-residence at The Mobile (Ala.) Register. He can be contacted at rhoffman@mobileregister.com.)
Not for commercial use. For educational and discussion purposes only.
"USA is the paradise of the world," he says. "You don't know you are living in the paradise of the world if you don't go to see other countries."
...
"I am for the war. In 10 minutes the military can win this," Nalu says. He puts the blame for the slowdown on politics. He says there is rebuilding going on in the country and that "95 percent of the people want democracy. You don't see these things."
...
"My son is like the other sons fighting there now. As much as I love my son," he pauses, speaking with resolve, "I love them, too."
I wonder why Michael Moore didn't interview this family for his stupid Bush bashing movie.
Remember also the fallen...
John Wroblewski's fidelity, love form lasting tribute [FReeper nephew Marine]
Why can't all our middle eastern immigrants follow this course?
Great post and story - one never to be seen in MM's fictional films.
What a handsome young man. God bless him.
Hah! They're just a bunch of red-blooded Americans!
Great post....thanks!
Bump for an outstanding post.
God Bless both.
Yes, you are correct. The article does state that he is a Christian. Maybe this will, in fact, ultimately boil down to a war between Islam and the rest of the world.
He's not Arab, and he's not a Mooslum.
That should be MooseLimb.
Because these Chaldeans are Christians that have been Christians from about the time of the Apostle of John or so... These Christians date back to about the time the Book of Acts [or "The Acts of the Apostles] was written.
These are not "Jew & Christian murdering Islamo-Nazis" like those rug-bowing-Koran-reading-Satan-worshipping-gangsters... I wonder how you say "Islamic Mafia" or "la Islamo Cosa Nostra" in Arabic?
Back when I lived in Michigan (before it became "Baghdad East") there were a lot of Middle Eastern Christians there...especially Lebanese ones...
Thank you for posting this wonderful story. I love these people. I love the U.S.A.
Excellent post.
Thank you for this wonderful post, this brings me to tears. Dear Lord, forgive me for my hateful, poisonous tongue, to quit lumping people into broad categories. Bless this family and particularly Patrick Nalu, who is showing so many of us the way...
RB
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