The acrid smell of burning rubber and smoking fire bombs mingled with odors from our sumptuous dinner table, but we were determined to celebrate Thanksgiving Day with our friends, regardless of the turmoil in our city streets. It was November 1978, post-Shah, Iran. Three weeks earlier, in the capital city of Tehran, establishments that Americans visited for recreation were being fire-bombed by radicals; any place that served liquor and provided dancing were targeted as "… against the holy book." Living in Esfahan, only 300 miles from Tehran, we feared for our lives. My husband's job had brought us to Iran...
