Good Riddance

Growing up overseas, our school was only a few blocks from the beach. We could see the Persian Gulf from the third floor windows. Our school, the Jumeirah American School, was funded mostly by the oil company my father worked for, Dubai Petroleum Company.

The school was very cosmopolitan. While most of the kids were Americans, I went to school with Swedes, Chinese, British, Pakistani, Indians, Singaporeans, French, Canadians, Australians, Brazilians, etc.

One day, in fifth grade, I was in science class with Mr. Bruskas and the other fifth grade teacher came in. She whispered in his ear. She passed him a piece of paper. He adjourned the lesson and told us to pack up our stuff because we were going to the field.

The school had a huge field. In first grade, it was covered in sand. By third grade, it was landscaped, irrigated, and turned into an American football field. Now, in fifth grade, it would serve as base of operations for a departure strategy. We were evacuating.

School officials had reason to believe a group called Hezbollah intended to blow up the school and kill us.

Several days later, when we returned to school, guards were stationed at each entrance. They would inspect all our stuff — even opening our lunch bags to check out the sandwiches. Down the road, in Abu Dhabi, the kids there got to witness a tank parked outside and even more armed operations.

Our class trips, which always were to other countries, were canceled. Security became an issue.

Today, the man who tried to kill me has, himself, been killed. Hassan Nasrallah is dead.

My friends from Lebanon who I grew up with are beside themselves with joy. Nasrallah took a city, once called the Paris of the Mediterranean, and turned it into a war zone. Hezbollah is a fundamentally evil organization. It has killed more Arabs than any other entity. It has killed Jews and Americans. So many of my friends growing up were refugees from Iran and their Hezbollah puppets.

Nasrallah and his minion orchestrated the execution of American Marines in Beirut and the United States never hunted him. Israel has done what we did not.

Good riddance. The fires of hell give me comfort here. Nazrallah may have departed this world, but he cannot depart the next. The pain of his final seconds in this world will only be the beginning for him. But others now have justice.

My thoughts and prayers are with the Washington Post on the loss of their Supreme Editor.