Stuart My Brother

By M. Hassan Alief

In this fiction, Stuart Lovelace Sr. served as the first American emissary in Afghanistan. Jason their younger son was kidnapped in Afghanistan where he grew up as Hassan and an Afghan and a Muslim. Due to the assassination of King Nadir Shah at that time and the political turmoil that ensued, the Lovelaces had to leave the country without their son, Jason. And thus Stuart grew up apart from his brother as an American and Christian in Colorado, USA. Some seventy years later, by a stroke of luck, Hassan and Stuart found each other at the Optimist Club of Wheat Ridge, Colorado, where they both were members. It is a fascinating story of East and West and the way of life in the 1930s and later in the US and Afghanistan. The book also chronicles the hardships people faced travelling half way around the world in the 1930s.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456800260

Book preview

PROLOGUE

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It all started with my joining the Optimist Club of Wheat Ridge, Colorado. My wife and I used to live in Albuquerque, New Mexico. In late 2000, we decided to move back to Colorado. As she was from Pueblo, I was persuaded to move back, but she did not want to go home to Pueblo, and since we had lived in Denver area before, we decided to move back to somewhere in Denver area. We looked all over the metro area for a house to buy and, finally, saw a little house in west-central Lakewood which Teresa really liked. We bought it and moved in.

I set up my little income tax and geologic consulting business and got busy. I don’t make much money but do have a lot of fun. I sent a mass mailing to a bunch of new homeowners. A few of them responded. Dan Ryan was one of those people. He came in and had me prepare his tax return. After that we became friends. As he was a member of the Optimist Club of Wheat Ridge, he invited me one day to join the group for breakfast as his guest. I hadn’t seen such a bunch of happy, enthusiastic, and helpful people; therefore, I decided to join them.

Everything was going fine attending most of the weekly Wednesday morning breakfast meetings and helping in some small projects whenever I could. I was enjoying the association and getting to know a lot of local people.

One day I felt a tap on my shoulder with the gentleman voicing Hey, Stu. I looked up. It was Tom Abbott, so I said, Hi, Tom, I’m Hassan.

Tom apologized and said that I looked so much like Stu, especially from the back of my head (both of us have beautiful bald skulls), that he mistook me for him. That incident started the brotherhood story. Now everybody at the Optimist Club calls us twin brothers. Even Jenae, our host at Celebrate where we now meet, greeted me as Mr. Stu the other day.

I had been thinking about this whole thing for some time and came to the conclusion that a little novel in tongue in cheek might be fun to write. There is no truth to the story of us being blood brothers, but we are Optimist brothers.

One incident is true that I was kidnapped by a gypsy woman (called Koochie in Afghanistan) when I was a year and a half old. It was due to the keen sense of hearing of my maternal grandmother, Nana, and her fast action that I was saved from the arms of the Koochie. Also, almost all the details of my life and those of Stu are true; therefore, this little book may be considered a biographical fiction.

ENGLEWOOD, COLORADO

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Dad, Stuart Lovelace, was born in Brighton, Colorado, in 1898. Our great-grandfather Lovelace lived in Missouri where he was Chief Justice of the State Supreme Court. His son Grandpa Lovelace was born in Missouri where he practiced law. Later he moved to Brighton, Colorado, where Dad was born. Mom, Eva, was born in Canadian, Texas, also in 1898. She was raised in Texas until her parents moved to Boulder, Colorado, when she was eighteen. Mom was very much interested in genealogy. She kept very detailed notes on her background. She also used to keep a diary of her daily life ever since she was ten years old. Dad grew up in Boulder where he attended the University of Colorado and graduated in 1922 with a BSc degree in journalism with a minor in international studies. Mom also attended CU and graduated in 1921 with a BA degree in home economics. After graduation, she went to Ouray, Colorado, and taught school for a year. Then she returned to Colorado to marry Dad in 1922. They lived and worked in Greeley for three years where our sister Annie May was born. After that they moved to Englewood, where they bought a local newspaper which they operated on and off until their retirement around 1960.

Dad was very much interested in international politics and wished so much to see the world. Luck had it that one of his schoolmates, Joseph Watson, was working at the State Department in Washington, DC. When they were at high school and later on at the university, the two of them would talk for hours about U.S. policies and how they would change this or that if they had the opportunity. It was the roaring 1920s and people were all in a good mood. There was plenty of money in the country and everything was upbeat. The two of them kept in touch. Joe had asked Dad if he would be interested in any foreign assignments. Dad said of course he would be. But he always thought the chance of landing a foreign assignment job was as good as flying to the moon.

Joe used to come home periodically, and he would sit in the living room of the little house in Englewood for hours and discuss politics. He always reminded Dad that he was on the lookout for any opening in Foreign Service, and he would let him know about it. With the many years of experience, Joe by now was head of the personnel department in the State Department and a very influential person. He had a direct communication line to the Secretary of State. He was privy to all the assignments that came open anywhere in the world.

Dad was a very pragmatic person. Although he wanted to go abroad in the service of his country, he did not neglect his job at the newspaper. He was a very capable manager in that that he did as little of the work himself as possible, but he trained others to be able to jump in and carry on the duties of an owner/publisher should it be necessary. It was during this happy period that my brother Stuart was born in June 29, 1929. Since there was no hospital in Englewood, Mom was taken to Denver General where she gave birth to Stu.

The engineer, Herbert Hoover, was president and Secretary Stimson was his Secretary of State. The Secretary and the President had a meeting, discussing the year-long negotiations with the government of Afghanistan in establishing diplomatic relations for the first time. The negotiations were amicably continuing. Both countries decided that they would not wait for the signing of the document that might take another year or two and agreed to send a Chargé d’affaires to each other’s country to lay down the ground work for the future embassies. Afghanistan didn’t lose much time in appointing an envoy to Washington, but the United States had a little bit of a problem finding a qualified person who would be willing to go to such a far-off place and start everything from scratch. At that time, Afghanistan had relations only with some independent Arab countries, and Iran, Turkey, Germany, France, and Great Britain. To have a U.S. envoy in the mix was a big feather in the cap of King Nadir Shah.

Joe was deeply involved in all the negotiations, and when the position was announced, he wrote to Dad to apply for the job. He sent him the appropriate application forms to be filled out and any supporting documents such as university graduation records, birth certificate, etc. Dad was very doubtful that anything would come out of it, but he thought that it wouldn’t hurt to try.

It was a dreary December morning in 1931, when Mom rushed in with the mail just brought in by the postman. Among the mail there was a letter from the State Department addressed to my Dad. I was alive but still in the safety of my mother’s womb. My two-and-a-half-year-old brother Stu was running around the house and making mischief as usual.

Stuart, Mom shouted, there is a letter for you from the State Department. I hope it is not what I think it is. Dad rushed to the living room, took the letter, and settled in his favorite chair. He opened the letter and looked it over very carefully. He read it once and again and shouted, Hey, honey, they want me to come to Washington for an assignment to an Asian country.

Oh Lord, shouted Mother. That is what I was afraid of. Do they mention the country? my mother asked. Yes, it is a little country in central Asia I read about at the University of Colorado, Afghanistan. If I take the job, we’ll be moving to its capital, Kabul.

Are you going to take it? Well, with the job markets so tight these days and our paper barely limping along, one child at home and another one on the way, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. Besides, after this assignment, I could get a better job in some European country, Dad replied.

No, please tell me you are not going to take the job, Mom uttered. Dad insisted that the job is a high-paying one and the country is very quiet and serene. We’re going to enjoy the place.

Mom was all upset. She rushed three houses down the block to talk to her mom and dad to tell them of the possible travel to Afghanistan. Her dad was a little hard of hearing. When he heard the word, he retorted, Where in the heck is Ufghufestan? Oh, Dad, it is Afghanistan and it is in central Asia, a neighbor of India. Her dad was a well-read person and knew where the country was and tried to calm Mom down by telling her that Afghanistan had a close association with Britain and that she would find things very primitive, but very nice. He assured her that the people were very friendly and that King Nadir Shah was an ally of Great Britain.

It took at least a couple of weeks and a lot of consultations with various friends and relatives. But finally, Mom accepted her fate and was, reluctantly, ready to go to Afghanistan.

Now came the hard part, getting things ready. The assignment would be for a minimum term of three years with another three years’ extension, if Dad agreed to continue serving there.

Mom spent days reading about the country at the Denver Public Library and found out that there are very few objects of comfort available there. There are no modern stores with goods that she was used to. There were no theaters, amusement parks, etc.

Armed with all the information, she went shopping for the things that she might need there. The only store that could provide her with most of the things was the Denver Dry Goods, downtown Denver; so she spent days there buying bedsheets, pillows, long-sleeved and high-collared dresses. She had read that the country was rather conservative and did not appreciate women in provocative dresses.

It took about a month of shopping and expenses of almost $4,000; Mom was ready. In the meantime, Dad was sending letters and telegrams to the State Department in order to get all the things lined up. He also made arrangements to let his assistant, Ron Benson, take over the operation of the newspaper. He made sure to leave sufficient operating funds for running the paper. He also spent several days with Ron and other employees, explaining the situation and telling them how much he appreciated their cooperation.

The next letter they got was in January 1932, which stated that they were delighted that Mr. Lovelace had accepted the position of Senior Consul in Kabul, Afghanistan. He was directed to report to the State Department in Washington, DC, on February 25, for further training and departure.

Dad went to the Union Station in Denver and got two one-way train tickets to Washington, DC. Little Stu didn’t need a ticket as he was underage. On February 10, Grandpa, Mom’s dad, threw a big going-away party for Mom and Dad. He invited all the relatives and some of Dad’s close friends. Dad showed his emotions by downing a few more glasses of beer than he normally did and was kind of incoherent at times.

All their friends and relatives that showed up were very sorry to see them go for such a long period of time, especially three of his friends found it really hard to part with him. Yes, George, White Eagle, and Carl were extremely unhappy to see their buddy go to such a faraway place, but that was the way it would be. White Eagle gave them his blessings by playing the special drum and warding off evil spirits.

WASHINGTON, DC

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On February 15, 1932, my family got on the family horse-drawn cart, piled up with all the goodies that Mom had bought, which Dad considered junk, and headed for Denver Union Station.

It was around 10:00 a.m. that the train departed for Omaha, Chicago, Philadelphia, and Washington. It was not a really fast train. In those days travel was slow and rather risky, with a bunch of outlaws stopping the trains and robbing the travelers.

Mom and Dad’s train did have a brush with the outlaws near the little town of Julesburg, but, luckily, a U.S. Marshall was on board and routed the outlaws and the train continued safely toward its destination. With all the delays in various cities and towns and the incident near Julesburg, it took them ten days to get to Washington, DC.

In Washington, they found a little hotel near the State Department and rested for the night. The next day, Friday, February 26, Dad headed for the diplomatic section of the State Department. He was very well received, but behind his back everybody was wondering and smirking as to why he accepted a post in such a desolate and remote part of the world.

The Secretary of State, Stimson, was very helpful and courteous. He gave Dad a very encouraging talk and told him that this was the first time the United States was sending an envoy to Afghanistan and that he was not only the senior consul, but the Chargé d’affaires of the country. He further said that he would watch the political progress there and when the agreement is officially signed, he would assign Dad as the Ambassador.

Dad was very pleased with the prospect of being an ambassador some day. I think he would’ve gone to Siberia, had he been offered the ambassadorial position there. He just wanted to represent his country, period.

They spent a month in Washington, DC, Dad getting briefings and Mom learning more about Afghanistan. The highlight of their stay in Washington was a visit with the new Afghan representative, Mr. Omar Gardezi, and his wife Rukhshana (Roxana). They were a relatively young couple, about the same age as Mom and Dad, and were rather forward-looking.

While Dad was at the State Department getting indoctrinated, Mom and Rukhshana were going around town, enjoying the sites of Washington and getting to know each other better. This encounter helped Mom a lot and calmed her nerves down. Rukhshana was a daughter of the former King Habibullah and knew a lot of people of influence; so she gave Mom names and addresses of such people and told her not to hesitate in contacting them for any help she might need.

Travel to the old world was pretty difficult in those days. The State Department arranged for the family to go to New York City and from there take an ocean liner to Europe. From there take the Orient Express to Istanbul, Turkey. From Turkey they could take the train through Persia to its eastern city of Mashhad and then go by bus on to Herat, Farah, Kandahar, and Kabul.

On Friday, March 4, 1932, they said farewell to the State Department staff and the newly-made friends, the Afghan envoy and his wife, and headed for NYC.

NEW YORK STOP

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Mom and Dad went to the offices of the White Star Line which operated the legendary luxury liner RMS Adriatic that was to take them to Liverpool, Great Britain. The reservation for the first class cabins was confirmed, and they were told that they would be parting on Thursday, March 10, 1932, toward Liverpool.

Mom and Dad and little Stu enjoyed their few days in New York. They stayed at the Ritz Hotel which also provided a baby sitter for Stu; so Mom and Dad were able to make some of the plays on Broadway and enjoy some of the city’s night life.

At 8:00 p.m. on March 10, 1932, they boarded the ship and soon thereafter departed for Great Britain. They were so lucky that the seas were calm with the sun shining daily. They enjoyed the pampered life on the ship and after eight days landed at the port in Liverpool.

After disembarking and claiming their baggage that they carried with them, they headed for the city of Liverpool on a local taxi. Most of the things that Mom had bought were shipped directly to Kabul by the Fredrick Leyland and Co. Ltd., owned by the Sanderson family which also owned the White Star Line.

They went to the train station and asked for two tickets to London. They were flabbergasted when the clerk called his coworker: Hey, Mate, come over here. We have visitors from the colonies. They had a big laugh, after which they issued the tickets and explained the departure time, etc.

It was Friday, March 18, when they headed for London. Oh, London, mother of all Anglo cities, the capital of the now crumbling British Empire. They asked the taxi driver to take them to Grosvenor House, a five-star establishment that catered to royalties and diplomats. Their stay in London was a memorable one. They enjoyed the sights, including the Buckingham Palace, and saw several plays. Mom was just ecstatic and amazed at how different things were from Denver.

After a few days in London, they went to the railway station and obtained two tickets to Southampton. Southampton is a port city in the southern tip of England on the English Channel. From there they took the ferry to Cherbourg, France. In those days, the Chunnel didn’t exist and the best way to cross the Channel for France was the ferry. From there they made their way to Paris by train. And after a few days in Paris, they booked two first-class tickets on the Orient Express for Istanbul, Turkey.

About half an hour out of Paris, the train made an unexpected and sudden stop. French Police boarded all the cars and advised everybody not go to any other cars and stay where they are. Mom and Dad were surprised at this event and wondered what the reason was. The police wouldn’t elaborate beyond the statement that there has been a murder in car number two, the car next to Mom and Dad’s; therefore, they were investigating the event, and everybody on the train, including the staff, were questioned.

The questioning was very thorough. Each passenger and staff was individually questioned. All the cars were cleared except for the car where the murder took place. In a few minutes, the car with the murdered person was decoupled and taken off the track and kept with its passengers for further questioning and forensic evidence. Mom and Dad’s car was coupled back with the rest of the cars and was cleared for travel. It was really eerie. It seemed like a page from Agatha Christie’s book of murder on the Orient Express. A real murder had happened on the Orient Express.

After getting their clearance, the train got underway. The grand old railway took them through many European countries from Paris to Istanbul, Turkey. They took their time and made stops along the way in many other cities before finally arriving in the mysterious city of Istanbul, formerly known as Constantinople. At the railway station, they found out where to stay. The place they found happened to be the world-class Caravan Sarai, a huge complex with stores, luxurious rooms to rent, and delicious Turkish cuisine. In the old days, such places served as camel stops and hence the name Caravan Sarai.

President Ata Turk had done wonders in Turkey. He had established a democratic government that eliminated or minimized the influences of the Mullahs and had emancipated the women. Things were going very well for Turkey.

After a few days in Istanbul, they headed by train to Mashhad, eastern Iran. Travel through Iran, then known as Fars (Persia), was a good introduction to what they’d face in Afghanistan, same language (Farsi) and similar culture. It took my parents, probably, a week to cut across Persia and make it to Mashhad.

Persian