A less ordinary encounters from around the globe

By Allan Conan

In my life, I have been blessed with so many life experiences that many will never be able to experience. From tiger hunting in the depths of the Burmese Bengal jungle, the mystical city of Mandala, to the depths of the Red Sea, I have been there. Every chapter was an adventure. They have given me a deep insight into the amazing world we live in and made me more aware. So many cultures, people, and how we all fit together on this small but amazing planet.  The struggles we all must bear. The blessing that seems to come from nowhere. The forces of life that like the ebb and flow of the tide change our lives from moment to moment as we walk on our own distant shores along the path of our lives. All of us have our own chapters that make up the book of our lives. Some chapters better and some worse than others. Every one of us a chapter, so all of us together are one big book. Our life experiences unite us all together on planet Earth. The common book. When driving my car and I look out the window and I see all the drivers around me in their glass bubbles, I wonder what life stories are there. So here I will begin to tell you mine

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allan Conan
• Release date: Apr 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224754380

Allan Conan

You may contact the author at [e-mail]

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Introduction

In my life, I have been blessed with so many life experiences that many will never be able to experience. From tiger hunting in the depths of the Burmese Bengal jungle, the mystical city of Mandala, to the depths of the Red Sea, I have been there. Every chapter was an adventure. They have given me a deep insight into the amazing world we live in and made me more aware. So many cultures, people, and how we all fit together on this small but amazing planet.  The struggles we all must bear. The blessing that seems to come from nowhere. The forces of life that like the ebb and flow of the tide change our lives from moment to moment as we walk on our own distant shores along the path of our lives. All of us have our own chapters that make up the book of our lives. Some chapters better and some wore than others. Every one of us a chapter, so all of us together are one big book. Our life experiences unite us all together on planet Earth. The common book. When driving my car and I look out the window and I see all the drivers around me in their glass bubbles, I wonder what life stories are there. So here I will begin to tell you mine.

The story, like all of us, begins obviously with my birth. I was born in Peoria Illinois in the year 1948. My father had finished college at Albion College MI. and latter had joined the US Navy.

My father was the one of two sons of a Russian immigrant father that walked by foot from the Ukraine to escape the terrible Jewish pogroms that took place. He walked by foot with only what he could carry on his back and then took a ship to New York. My Grandfather was a son of a famous Jewish Rabbi, and the Jewish last name was Charrif, that when translated means in English Sharpe witted, smart, and intelligent. When he arrived at Ellis Island the immigration officers asked him what his name was and what does it mean? They told him that he should have an American name and that is why our family name was changed to Sharpe. He worked selling newspapers on the street in Chicago and put both of his son through college. My father worked in a canning factory loading railroad cars with cans. He did this to help his brother George, my father’s big brother, to get through medical school. George, my uncle, became a medical doctor and later served in the Philippines in WWII as an US Army doctor. Later he developed a private practice in Maryland.

When I was born my father was a lieutenant in the United States Navy teaching illiterate Navy sailors how to read and write. Little did he and I know where life would take us both? I think looking back neither he nor I would believe how both of our lives would unfold.

My father served in WWII as a Skipper of a PT torpedo boat of off Hawaii. In a similar position to that of John F. Kennedy who later became president of the United States. He was one of the very few and first Jewish Navy Officers in the United States Navy. At that time in American history there was still a very strong discrimination against Jews. I remember him telling me the story, that one day off the coast of Hawaii, he was summoned with his PT boat to come alongside the admiral’s ship. He told me, he was concerned why the admiral had summoned him to come aboard. The story goes that once onboard he met the admiral in the admiral’s cabin and was greeted by him. When he asked the admiral, what was the purpose of the meeting, the admiral said, I have never seen a Jewish US Navy officer before, and he wanted to see what that one looked like.

The Korean War started in 1950 and we moved to Imperial Beach California. My father was sent to Korea behind enemy lines. He told me that in the dead of the night off the norther coast of Korea from a US Navy destroyer they put him in a black rubber zodiac boat with some Navy Seals and dropped him off on the North Korean shore with only a radio and a side arm. His job was to help Korean refugees escape and find their way to South Korea for safety.

My mother was a stay-at-home mom, and her profession was a teacher.

My sister Arlyn was born in 1952 and together we continued to live together in Imperial Beach California two blocks from the beach. She is a very special person and has always played an important part in my life.

In the 1950s the French were being defeated in Vietnam and they were planning to pull out of their colony. They were being defeated by the insurgent communist-dominated Viet Min after many years of trying to retain control of Vietnam. The United States government was very concerned that Vietnam would fall and become a part of the spread of world communism. The decided to send one of their finest operatives to Vietnam to set about creating the South Vietnamese army (ARVN) and to try to establish a pro United States Democracy to keep control of some portion of the French Indochina colony. That operative in charge was Colonel Edward Lansdale. Colonel Edward Lansdale, chief of the CIA's Saigon Military Mission, met with Ngo Dinh Diem after the CIA entered Vietnam in 1954 to help the pro-Western Vietnamese wage political-psychological warfare.

Colonel Lansdale, when meeting with one of the main Vietnamese leaders that was pro United States was told by him, that he, that Vietnamese official trusted only one American, and that American’s name was Laurence Sharpe.

Who was Laurence Sharpe? After much investigation and searching through official  US records, they discovered a man named Laurence Sharpe serving in the US Navy, my father. My father immediately received orders to go to Vietnam, to Colonel Lansdale, and meet this high up Vietnamese official.  As it turned out, years ago while my father was still a college student at Albion, he was assigned a foreign student as a roommate. It was this high-ranking Vietnamese that was his roommate and that is how my father began his career in the US intelligence world. By chance.

As my father was working in Vietnam with Colonel Lansdale in political-psychological warfare he wanted his family to be closer.

He found a house to rent in Kamayurá Japan and my mother, sister, and I moved in.

It is from this background my personal story begins.

Chapter One – Japan and Iran

1952 lived in Kamakura Japan

age 4.

Arlyn was one year old, we rented a house in Kamakura, it had rice paper and wood walls. The Japanese people still wore traditional clothes, the women dressed in colorful kimonos and wore wooden shoes that were three to four inches high so that they could walk above the mud in the unpaved streets of the marketplace. The owners of the house we rented were also the servants and grounds keepers as was the tradition at that time.  The house was in traditional Japanese style. It had tatami mat flooring, sliding doors, and wooden engawa verandas. Windows had rice paper and not glass. It had an entrance hall where people remove their footwear. The owner of the house took a liking to me and one day bought me a butterfly net. I remember running around with him in the lush garden trying to catch butterflies.  On occasion the lady of the house would take me with her to the marketplace. We would walk together through the muddy streets. People were friendly and would smile at her and her little Caucasian boy. This was still soon after the end of WWII, I would often see men missing and arm or a leg begging and sitting by the side of the street. Many looked like homeless people, and some were begging. Wearing rags as clothes. They were the wounded survivors of the Japanese armed forces. I was told that they were World War II veterans that had been wounded in the war and could feel their stares penetrating me as I passed by them. I saw see in their eyes a combination of sadness and anger.  It disturbed me as a 5-year-old to see their suffering.

The Japanese women were beautiful in their attire and appearance. They had a big bun tied on their backs, high combed hair styles, and dressed in the traditional kimono. Some had white painted faces with makeup. They seemed to walk as if they were gliding along in a smooth kind of shuffling way. With my surrogate Japanese mother at my side for protection, we would wander around the marketplace from stall to stall. She would purchase with cash home grown vegetables, fish, and meat. Like mother and son, we would walk home and then she would cook traditional Japanese meals. I learned how to use Japanese chopsticks better than a knife and fork. Today I still prefer them.

Kamakura is a coastal town, about an hour south of Tokyo.

Kamakura was once the political center of Japan, Minamoto Yoritomo chose the city as the seat for his new military government in 1192. Japan was ruled for over 100 years from Kamakura.

Kamakura was then a small city. In the marketplace there was a square and in the center was a large brass Buddha statue in the lotus position. I was told that it was the largest Buddha statue in the lotus position in the world. I remember being able to climb inside and peer out through its eyes at the milling crowd below.

The Great Buddha of Kamakura (Kamakura Daibutsu) is a bronze statue of Amida Buddha, which stands on the grounds of Kotokuin Temple. It had a height of about 44 feet, weighing 93 tons, it is the second tallest bronze Buddha statue in Japan. At one time it was covered with gold leaf. The statue was cast in 1252.

Kotokuin Temple (Daibutsu)/Official Visitor Guide VISIT KAMAKURA

My father was rarely at home, he was working in Vietnam with Colonel Lansdale to covertly establish a pro American government in Vietnam before the French pulled out. There is a book written about Colonel Lansdale and my father is mentioned in it. The title of the book is Why Vietnam matters: An eyewitness account of lessons not learned authored by Rufus Phillips III. In the chapter Making a start one of my father’s episodes is described.  Once he came home and gave me a French Foreign Legion hat.

After a little over a year, we returned to the United States to San Diego where I we had a house in Imperial Beach.

––––––––

1954 lived in Isfahan Iran

ages 6, 7, 8

My Dad joined the United States Information Agency as a US information officer? It is still not quite clear to me what his role entailed. As a result, we moved first to Tehran Iran for a few months and then to Isfahan, Iran. When we arrived in Tehran, the embassy was told that Larry Sharpe was the new information officer. To his surprise when he went for the first time to the embassy, he saw that they had constructed in the lobby a booth, like at a movie theater, with a hole in the front glass for him to talk through. I think the embassy staff were a little confused as to exactly what his job description was supposed to be. After realizing their mistake, they gave him an office deep in the basement of the embassy that would be better suited for his line of work. No windows and very secure. I remember him laughing and telling us about the information booth that had been prepared for him. After all, he was the information officer.

After a few months he was reassigned to the city of Isfahan. Isfahan was once the capital of the Persian Empire and is a beautiful city in a plain surrounded by high mountains. There is a dry river that flows through the city. It is famous for its Mosques, gardens, and one of the world largest covered bazars. The Kahju Bridge is one of the finest bridges in Iran and crosses the river. If you look closely at the bridge, you can see strategically placed holes in its structure. I was told that these holes were deliberately made so that in case of an invading army, explosives could be placed to blow up the bridge. Isfahan was also famous for its hand-woven Persian carpets. I remember us driving over the bridge with Persian carpets laid out on it. The carpet weavers would wash the carpets in the muddy water of the river and then lay the carpets out on the bridge in the middle of the road. In the beginning we would try to avoid driving over the carpets until the men would come running after us waving their hands and shouting in Persian that we needed to drive over the carpets. Later we learned that they laid the carpets out on the road deliberately for people to drive and walk over them, to tighten the weave. Beautiful cotton cloth was also made, and they carved in blocks of wood complex Persian motif designs. The wooden stamps were then used to print the repeated designs. According to the Islamic religion, beautiful designs and motifs were used instead of pictures. Depicting the human form was never widely practiced in Islam, that discomfort seems to have come from: God has already created, and that would be usurping God's sole creative power; second, it is possible that people might turn images into idols.

Isfahan was famous for its beautiful Mosques and its architecture. Horses and donkeys roamed the streets. The bustle and noise of commerce filled the streets. Smells of exotic spices filled the air. You could feel the ancient history. The great Persian empire that rivaled Rome in its time. The Persian Empire was the largest Empire that had ever been established. At its height, it spanned from Egypt in the west to Turkey in the north, and through Mesopotamia to the Indus River in the east.

We rented a large house set aside and by itself in the out skirts of the city. The house belonged to the King Khan