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  • "The minute I heard my first love story,
    I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was.
    Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,
    they're in each other all along."
    - Rumi

    My wife, Judith, and her mother, Avis Pirie, arrived in Tehran, Iran in 1977. They were Kiwis from Hawaii touring southeast Asia with a whimsical jaunt to Tehran. Farhad and I were living there.

    Judith moved to Paris to attend culinary school and met a dashing Persian man named Farhad Ghiasvand. Their young marriage didn't last. She returned to Hawaii and he went home to his family in Tehran.

    Farhad was taken at Mehrabad Airport and forced into the front lines of the Iran/ Iraq war. For years no one heard from him until he showed up on his ex mother-in-law's doorstep in Hawaii, starved and half-dead, having escaped and fled the war. My wife's family nursed him back to health and he eventually returned to Iran where he met and married his current wife, Ashraf. They left Iran and moved to New Zealand where they started a family.

    Judith Pirie moved to San Francisco. She didn't like her apartment so she crossed the bay to look at some condos in Alameda. I was in one of them.

    Judith then moved back home to Oahu. I returned home to Texas and signed up for a contract at Pearl Harbor. Judith moved to the Big Island. I work for five years at Pearl and then flew over to the Big Island to see the volcano.

    I met Judith in Hilo and we spent three days together. Within a month we were engaged. Nine months later we had our only child.

    I love Persian food and my wife cooks the best in the world. My fellow Tehrani, Farhad Ghiasvand, taught her how.

    * * * * * *
    Tehran 1977 photo courtesy of Jim Geikler
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