Lorrie met Mostafa Elm, a prominent Iranian economist and diplomat, when he was still a graduate student at Syracuse University. Although they apparently met only once after that (not for lack of effort on the part of Mostafa), they continued a correspondence that spanned the following two decades.
January 1, 1959, New York
It is so good to write the first letter of the year to you and I am sure this will bring me a lot of happiness and luck. There is much to say and I wish I felt more free to express myself. However since I will be in Syracuse possibly before this letter reaches you I would not say much here but I am sure you know what I want to say.
Let me report on my activities here. Yesterday I visited the IBM people and that practically took my whole day going from one office to another—from local personnel office to international personnel office and so on. They were all very nice to me and tried to find where I fit most. They offered me three different jobs in three different countries. The offer for U.S. was poor and not very promising but the other two were quite interesting. However I could not make up my mind.
As for New Year activities the first evening was spent at the home of my girl friend whose parents had invited me for dinner. Last night I had dinner with some American friends in a cave on 46th St and 7th Ave. It was a fine Italian restaurant which is beautifully built like a cave with nice candle lights and good “monde.”
Lorrie, I wish you were here, and I am most anxious to return to Syracuse. In spite of all its bitter cold and dullness it has one great quality which makes it really nice for me—and that is the fact that you are there.
I am returning to Syracuse on Sunday and shall be looking forward to see you possibly on the same day.
June 4, 1959, Washington, D.C.
Surprisingly enough there was no paper on the plane I took to Washington and I could not write you then. But I was thinking of you all the way.
I wish I were in Syracuse as long as you were there and could enjoy your very charming company. I have had many friends in this country and abroad, but none has impressed me as much as you have done. As I have told you often you are unique and not seeing you is a great loss to me which cannot be compensated by anyone else. I just don’t know what to say and how to leave this county without even the hope of seeing you again. Could you give me any hope?
There is a slight change in my plans. I will leave Washington for New York on Tuesday June 9 and will be in New York until June 16. This means that I will leave New York for London dour days later than previously planned. Do you think you might be in New York? If so would you please call MU3-**** which is Mr. S’s phone number. He will tell you where I am. There is nothing in the whole world that I would like but seeing you once more and possibly always.
I have often tried to conceal my feelings but I should now admit that I am deeply in love with you. I can no more keep my emotions in hiding. I thought this must be told at last.
If you cannot come to New York please write me c/o Mr. S, *** East 36th St, New York City. But please do come if you can.
I am expecting your letters any time, anywhere in the world.
November 29, 1959, Tehran, Iran
I was glad to have your wonderful letter. I was sorry to hear that you were ill. Now that you feel better please take good care of yourself.
Apparently you don’t have a definitive plan for the trip to the West. May I remind you that my cousin H is leaving San Francisco for Tehran between 1 and 20th of December as he wants to run for Parliament here. In case you did go to S.F. before then please call on him. He is not only my relative but also my close friend.
Dear Lorrie, you say that you are in a place you don’t want to be in and yet you don’t move from that place. You know how much I care for you and how I feel when I hear about your unhappiness. Why don’t you come to Iran Lorrie? You can’t imagine how much I want to see you. I wish I were the same student on Syracuse campus and could see you.
How is it that without knowing the job that could be offered to you in Iran you say you don’t have the background. Your knowledge is much more than many foreign experts who are given high salaries in this country. Please think it over again and let me know.
Is S.P. from India still on the campus? What is he doing? Give my regards to him if you see him and tell him to write me.
If you have any plans for a trip to Europe let me know and I will come anywhere in Europe to see dearest Lorrie.
Please write me soon and let me know all about yourself.
January 12, 1960, Tehran, Iran
I was completely surprised to hear that my Christmas card has not reached you. You are very dear to me, Lorrie, and I would never have failed to send you a card. It makes me worry to hear this from you and maybe some others have not received my card. I had your very beautiful Christmas card and will keep it forever.
It is difficult to say whether I am doing what I want. I can only say that it gives me satisfaction to write articles for the papers and to see that they are read and appreciated. This has made me quite popular in the local and foreign circles since my articles appear in 3 different languages. The Shah has also read my articles and has appreciated some and criticized others. However the Court has informed me to arrange for an appointment with the Shah. There have also been some clear hints to appoint me as his economic adviser. I will know everything more clearly next week.
It was nice to see the President in Tehran. He was here for a few hours and I saw him twice as I was standing in the street when he came and when he left.
Dear Lorrie I think of you very often. There is no one in the world who has impressed me as much as you have done. I wish I could see you again not for a short while but for ever. Can I cherish the hope that you may come to Tehran? Or shall I make plans to come to the States? Please let me know about this and soon. What happened to your plans for a trip to Europe?
I miss you tremendously and wish to know when we will meet again. Please write me soon.
If you do see P, from India, kindly tell him to write me.
May 8, 1960, Tehran, Iran
I was happy to have your letter when I returned to Tehran. The trip was quite a change after 10 months of hard work. The Swedish and German officials arranged very nice parties for me and I enjoyed them very much. I made hundreds of new acquaintances.
You have mentioned in your letter about writing a book but you haven’t told me what is it about. However I wish you every success.
As to marriage, I have met a good number of Swedish and German girls—some of high society. In fact it was so easy to get married and come back from Europe with a wife. But I have become very cautious. The older I get, instead of reducing my expectations, I look for perfection. Maybe some day I can find somebody like you.
I will be going to Rome and Paris late in August or early in September. By the way when are you going to Calif? Is it this year or next year? My cousin, H, was here on vacation and is now back in San Francisco, He will return to Tehran in October. Do you think you will be on the West Coat before then? If so it would be worthwhile to see him.
Write me dear Lorrie.
September 13, 1960, Tehran, Iran
I was glad to receive your letter today from Berkeley. Dear Lorrie don’t think that I have forgotten or will ever forget you. I was in Austria, Germany and Sweden for a month and came back last week. I wrote you from Vienna, but to your Syracuse address. When I came back I found your card which you had sent me on your way to Calif. The reason I did not write you at once was that I did not know your address.
You say that you have mixed reactions to Berkeley. Maybe when you really get settled and start a job, things—I mean your outlook—will change.
For a long time I cherished the hope of seeing you in Europe this fall but apparently you could not come. I am planning to come to San Francisco in Sept 1961 for the Industrial Development Conference sponsored by the Stanford Research Institute. If you will be in Europe by then I will come to Europe. Next March I will be in Italy, then France.
Dear Lorrie, it is more than a year that I haven’t seen you and yet—to be quite frank—I love you more than ever. I think there is no sin in admitting to a dear friend what goes within your mind and heart. But could I have any hopes or you are completely out of reach?
Please give my best regards to David and write me at once.
February 1, 1961, Milan, Italy
I don’t want to say how my trip is or how the weather looks like in Europe. What I want to say here is my story about you.
Let me tell you that wherever I am, whether in Genova, Florence, Stockholm or Tehran I am thinking of you. You are all the time in my mind and yet you seem to be out of reach.
When I left the States I thought that as time goes by and as I meet new faces in different continents I will gradually forget you. But it worked completely in a different way. I found that there is nobody like Lorrie and I am thinking more and more of you. But whenever I have tried to explain myself in my letters you have ignored my points and have just kept me in the dark. Maybe ignoring my points meant that I should not talk in that tone. But I would have appreciated a clear response.
Lorrie, let me be very frank with you. I am deeply in love with you and I am saying this after testing myself for a period of two years. But am I loving someone who is completely out of reach or is there any hope?
I have one request from you dear Lorrie and that is to send me a reply to this letter to Tehran where I expect to be on Feb. 9.
Please forgive me for my frankness.
February 27, 1961, Tehran, Iran
I sent you two postcards and a letter from Italy a few weeks ago but have had no reply from you. Could it be that your letter hasn’t reached me because of Pan Am strike? Anyhow I am very much worried about you. Please write me soon—as soon as you can.
Coming back from Italy I had your letter dated Jan 23 and your wonderful photo. Since I had written you 3 times from Italy I just thought I will hear from you soon. But waiting didn’t do any good. Maybe I was wrong not to write you from Tehran upon arrival.
When I read your letter Lorrie, every word of it meant a lot to me. We both don’t feel at home in our homes. We both have friends but yet can hardly find anyone to talk to or share our solitude with. I was indeed fortunate to find you at Syracuse. With you I felt a home but now I am homeless. Is there any hope that we can get together again? Let me repeat that there is no one like you.
If you have received my letter from Italy please send me a reply at once and please don’t keep me waiting.
Lorrie, may I ask you to come to Tehran even if it is for a short trip. This is the greatest favor you can do to me. I will be more than happy to send you and David an air ticket. My home is your home. If you and David can’t come now why not during the summer? But the sooner the better. Please consider this invitation seriously and don’t disappoint me.
On March 17 I plan to go to France for 2 or 3 weeks. My next trip may be to Japan but the date is not yet set. But none of these trips are as pleasant as spending one hour talking with you, Lorrie.
Could you tell me what are you writing about and when do you think you finish your work? I wish I could read your writings as soon as possible. It may look strange, but I have no pictures of myself except passport photos and some slides which were never printed on paper. Could I send a passport photo or a slide since there is no photo lab here for printing color slides.
Please write me at once Lorrie and let me know all about yourself.
October 21, 1961, Tehran, Iran
I am sorry not to have written you earlier. This is mainly due to the fact that I have been too busy lately and partly because your letters had lost their warmth. Or maybe, as you say, I expect too much. Anyhow your last letter, though not more than a few lines, was most wonderful.
How is everything with you dear Lorrie? I thought you were planning to join Columbia. As for me I am still alive, with fairly good health and not yet in jail. I have three jobs at the moment. For 8am to 3pm, Director of Industrial Planning; from 3 to 5pm, economic advisor to Iran’s Development Bank and from 5 to 7pm, editor of the economic section of Ettela’at, the leading paper in Iran with largest circulation. The last job involves writing every day an editorial on economic issues, to be published in the Persian, English and French versions of the paper. This gives me a good chance to say what I want to say—but in a mild manner.
It has become fairly easy for me to proceed to positions of power but not so easy to do anything worthwhile for the people. I am just moving in a nutshell with not much freedom to move in any direction that might serve the people. Under the present conditions there is no hope to break the shell. Or maybe I am too hasty.
So much for politics. I should admit that I miss you tremendously. I had hoped to come to New York and meet you there in November. But with the type of jobs I have it is impossible at the moment and I might come some time next year.
I was wondering whether you would consider the possibility of coming to Iran as my dearest guest or at least accept a job with the Economic Bureau here. They desperately need people of your caliber for their Social Welfare Division. If you agree with the idea they will employ you for one or two years after interviews at Harvard and will pay for your trip. We have right now a man in Washington who will be back in Iran soon. If you are interested let me know at once so I may arrange your meeting with him. Lorrie, it would be so wonderful to see you in Iran. You can bring David. There is a good American school and there are good dentists too. Tennis is also played here.
My cousin would be very happy to see you in San Francisco. His name is H. His office phone number is FI6-**** and his home no EV6-****. Let me know when you are leaving for S.F.
It was so nice of you to send me your photo and write me regularly. I will try my best to write you more often. So write me soon.
December 9, 1961, Tehran, Iran
It was so good to have your letter after quite some time. I did not know whether you were in Syracuse or some other place. Yale is definitely better than Syracuse. Do you know how long you will be there?
You tell me that you occasionally read the N.Y. Times and “that is about as near to news that I have about you.” But last August I took the trip from Wash. D.C. to S.F. so as to come to Santa Barbara to see you. That was pretty close and yet it couldn’t be done. Frankly I was very much annoyed when you turned me down. If friendship means anything, it does mean that much that one can sacrifice a day for a friend who has come such a long way.
My work is going on as before. On March 20th I am going to Japan for 3 weeks. On Jan 4 I plan to get married to an Iranian girl. She is 25 and has a daughter from her first marriage. My son is getting 18 next month and is practically David’s height.
I have never seen any girl as beautiful and as erudite as you with so much charm and other qualities. But let me add, if I may, that, as you say, your feeling of suspense between guilts has robbed you of any decision in life particularly when you wait for things to fall in place themselves. You will forgive me for repeating what you say about yourself, but with a different wording.
My translation of Gibran’s Prophet will be published late this month. Just an hour ago I did the proofreading of the last page. I am quoting this from the English version for you:
If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song.
And If our hands should meet in another dream we shall build another tower in the sky.
Please write me whenever you can. I do miss your friendship very much and I wish you every success in the world. My best wishes to you and David for a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,
December 15, 1963, Ankara, Turkey
I hope this card will reach and we will be in touch again. I am now with the Central Treaty Organization (CENTO) in Ankara and will be here for two years. My wife is here too and plans to go to London in April for 3 months.
Please let me know how you are and what you are doing. Wish I could see you in this part of the world. With best wishes for a very Happy New Year. Please write me at once.
January 28, 1964, Ankara, Turkey
My dear Lorrie,
It was so wonderful to have your letter. It was the thing I needed most. We have not seen each other for almost five years. But I have been thinking of you quite often and cherishing the hope of seeing you. There is a slim chance that I may be in Wash. D.C. by the end of April Where will you be then? Can we see each other again?
I am now with CENTO in charge of economic affairs. I deal mainly with the coordination of economic development activities of Turkey, Pakistan and Iran with the assistance of the U.S. and U.K. My job necessitates a good deal of traveling. Last Oct. I was in Istanbul, Nov. in London and Dec. in Tehran. These trips are only to CENTO member countries and they usually take 10 days or so.
Turkey is very beautiful in the spring. You mention that you have always wanted to visit Turkey. I would love to have you as my guest here in April or shall we say from April on. Could you make it in April or any other time? In the meantime please do send me a few snapshots of yours. Do you have definite plans for a trip to Europe?
Please tell me what your book is about and in what form is it. I am sure you are good at expressing yourself. But don’t be too fussy. Otherwise you will never finish . And besides, I don’t think fussiness does add to the flavor.
My wife is Iranian and not English. She just wants to go to England for a few months to improve her English. You have asked good questions—whether I am happy and whether I do what I like. The answer is more or less no. I have left my country since I got tired of trying in vain to at least begin certain changes. My life here is one of quietness if not laziness. I have just begun writing a book on forced social change in Iran trying to show how a country, under such circumstances, changes in physical shape while mentally it is hollow.
Please write me soon and let me know all about yourself, your plans and your next address. Don’t forget to send me your snapshots.
May 8, 1964, Ankara, Turkey
I am very sorry to hear that you had a bad cold. I hope you have fully recovered by now. Maybe you were tired when I met you, but you looked as beautiful as ever.
My visit was indeed very short and wish I could have stayed much longer. By the time I realized that I had finally seen you after five years I had to leave.
I am glad you liked the bracelet and wear it. In this way, perhaps, I can be remembered more often. The film in my camera is not still out. I have to take some more pictures and then send it to a Kodak lab outside this country. Maybe it takes weeks before I can see your pictures. But remember you promised to send me more pictures of yourself. I will send you your pictures and mine as soon as I have them.
I came back to Ankara last week. It was a long drive from Stuttgart to here. My wife and I stopped one day in Zurich, two days in Lugano which is indeed beautiful, and three days in Venice. There were other stops in Zagreb, Belgrade and Sofia but just for the night. The drive through Switzerland, especially the mountainous parts was most wonderful. Yugoslavia did not seem to differ much in scenery and ways of life from Western Europe. But Bulgaria was just a nightmare of poverty with terribly silent people. It was much worse than any underdeveloped country I have so far visited.
Well, Lorrie, I am cherishing the hope of seeing you again and in better spirits. In mid-October I am going to London, and if you are still somewhere in Europe I would love to see you either on the way to London or on my way back late in October or early November. What doyou think? Do you think you will be in Europe then?
I have made a good start on my autobiography and hope to continue. Sometimes I get stuck when I need references not available here. Anyhow the gaps will have to be filled in Iran.
I wish I could see your article on Portugal. I hope you will send me a copy when it is published. Shy don’t you write some poetry about this Persian race or the awful Portuguese in their hidden war with the Persians who are thousands of miles away?
Let us hope that we visit soon in Barcelona or Ankara. Please write me now.
May 6, 1965, Tehran, Iran
I have not heard from you for quite some time and this worries me quite a lot. Let me know where you are and how are you.
I am leaving for London on Sunday May 23 and would be very glad if I could have a letter from you by or before Friday May 21st, the last office day before my departure. If you are still in Lisbon or some other place in Europe I would be able to see you on my return from London sometime in the first week of June.
There is very little else I can say except repeating that I am anxiously waiting to hear from you.
P.S. My address while in London will be Park Lane Hotel, Piccadilly, London W.1.
April 11, 1966, Tehran, Iran
I was lucky to have two letters from you last week. The second one showed in you a sort of restlessness—if I may call it so. The confusion in the minds of your countrymen faced with a world different from what they expected it to be and with a challenge for adaptation have created an atmosphere of unrest which in turn have left some impact on you. But let me frankly say that added to this is the confusion you have in your own mind as to how you should lead the rest of your life.
I don’t have much wisdom to offer you any advice. But what I have learned is that you should first learn to live in peace with yourself. There was a time when I was unhappy about everything and I felt that if I travel to other countries I would find happiness there. But then I realized that the trouble was that I was taking “myself” on the trip and if I really wanted to be happy I had to leave “self” behind, otherwise a change in location didn’t offer much. Anyhow I came to the conclusion that before I fight my society or run away from it I have to fight myself until I feel that I am at least at home with myself. I have succeeded in doing this to a certain extent.
During the years we have known each other, I think I have been frank in revealing my thoughts, but you have been somewhat restrained in revealing yourself—your thoughts, your goals and your desires. In fact I am somewhat hurt that our friendship has not created in you some sort of frankness. Judging from your letters I only know that you are fond of two things—to travel and to write, both perhaps the result of your being not fond of your society. I remember in Lisbon I tried to ask you about your approach to life. But then either I couldn’t make myself explicit or you evaded the issue. So I don’t know what you expect of life.
If I understand correctly from your letter you want to finish your writing and then leave the States for good. This depends on what you want to do in some other country. If you want to come to Iran I would be more than glad to be of any help since I would love to see you here. As to job possibilities I should know what type of job you would like to have and the amount of pay you expect. Furthermore could you tell me of your academic background? Anyhow I can tell you off hand that there are job possibilities for you.
Early in July I will be going to Geneva where I would probably stay for 5 weeks. If you happen to be anywhere in Europe by then I would be glad to come and see you and talk to you.
In search of some sort of achievement in life, I am working, slowly and not steadily, on two different books. But I have come to the conclusion that I would not be able to do much writing as long as I work for a living. I am now exploring the possibilities of getting a job in private business with a high pay. This would enable me to save some money within a few years after which I can quit and establish myself in a room somewhere in Rome, Florence or Southern Spain and concentrate full time on writing. By then my children will also be self-supporting. I have found the idea not to be impractical. Don’t you think you can do the same?
My letter has already become quite long. So I finish here and would love to have your letter soon.
October 2, 1966, United Nations, N.Y.
I was lucky to receive your post card from Lisbon just the day before my departure to N.Y.
My program to go to Oxford this year was cancelled since I had to attend the General Assembly meeting at the U.N. which will keep me here in New York until about mid December.
How are you Lorrie and what are you doing in Lisbon? Will you be there until December or are you returning to the States before then.
I would very much like to see you but I doubt whether I can come to Lisbon. My present plans call for going thru London on my way back. Do you think we can meet there if you are in Europe by then?
Under the item on Human Rights which is to be discussed at the U.N. session I will complain about you.
Well Lorrie I have trouble reading your address in Lisbon. I will try to imitate it and hope this letter will reach you. But may I ask you to give me a clear written address and your phone number.
Please write me soon and tell me all about yourself.
October 16, 1966, United Nations, N.Y.
My dear Lorrie,
I was glad to receive your letter of Oct 11 and should frankly say that I envy you and your trips to places which have been out of my reach during all these years.
I was also glad to hear that you have finished your first book. But so far you haven’t told me the theme of your book. It is indeed so good to be able to write and to travel. For me it seems as if I can do either of the two at one time.
The work here at the U.N. is quite interesting. More than 70 Foreign Ministers are attending the U.N. session and most of their discussions revolve around Vietnam while problems of economic development in which I am involved take the second place.
I hope you will come to New York and I would love to see you here. The last time I saw you in Lisbon I thought I would never be able to see you again. Now I am not sure whether you would go to Brazil or would come to New York.
Please let me know when you arrive in N.Y. and how long are you going to stay here. Would you like me to make any hotel arrangements? France should be quite good at this season—if it doesn’t turn cold. New York is very pleasant but I don’t know how it would be in December.
Early next year I will get a four year assignment either to New York or Geneva, one of the two centers of the U.N. Each has its advantages and disadvantages. Geneva is in the heart of Europe, as you know, with easy access to all other European countries. N.Y. has the advantage of having good libraries, theatres and concerts. What would you say about choosing between the two?
Lorrie, I cherish the hope of seeing you soon. Please write and let me know about your plans.
P.S. Please use the address on the envelope and not the hotel address. You might be interested to attend some U.N. meetings if you are here before the ending of the present session in mid December.
December 7, 1966, United Nations, N.Y.
I am sure that we won’t see each other in New York. In fact I was almost sure about this even before receiving your card. After all we have known each other for years and I am quite familiar with the fact that your plans are always tentative and subject to change.
On Dec. 22 I am flying back to Tehran, with a short stop in Düsseldorf. I think there is not much else to say except that the U.N. sessions end on Dec. 21 after some 3 months.
If we didn’t see each other again I wish you best of luck and some clear aims in life.
Let me also extend my best wishes to you for a pleasant holiday.
November 2, 1967, Tehran, Iran
The other day I received the postcard you had sent to Tehran. It was indeed wonderful to hear from you after months.
My wife and I left Ankara on Oct 20 and drove thru Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq to Iran. It was a long trip mostly thru deserts but we had our compensation by staying 3 days in Beirut which we found quite pleasant.
I will be working here in Tehran for a year at the Foreign Ministry before being posted somewhere overseas.
You seem to be traveling quite often between Calif and Lisbon. Portugal should have a lot of attraction for you. As for me I don’t think I would be able to travel to Europe. If we are friends and you are serious about your friendship, once in a while you have to reciprocate by visiting your friends at their houses.
I therefore conclude my letter with the hope of seeing you here.
Yours as ever,
January 10, 1968, London
I was glad indeed to receive your card and I am happy we got in touch again after a year.
It is a pity that we had no communication for some time. Otherwise we could meet somewhere in Europe while you were in Portugal. But now I am looking forward—as I usually do—to seeing you this summer when I hope you will visit Europe again. Are you going to be in Portugal in June and if so couldn’t you pass through London?
The trouble is that most of our correspondence concerns your travels, but we do not really see each other. And sometimes I really get disappointed to find that in fact we are only pen friends. During the last 10 years since leaving Syracuse I have met you once in Lisbon and my efforts to see you on the U.S. soil have failed twice. So we are back where we were—pen friends—which is still not too bad. Maybe by the year 1980, when we are no doubt much older, we still write on subjects of the age.
I don’t seem to enjoy London. There is no time to do anything but office work. Once in a while a concert or a good film, but that is all. Writing is a matter of the past and future. The present seems to be void of anything interesting unless you were on this side of the world. In the meantime send me your picture. I have some pictures in the camera and will send you one soon.
Last summer I had a short trip to Europe with my wife and son. We drove through Belgium, France and Germany and then back through Holland. My elder son is studying architecture in Düsseldorf. My younger son is with me in London preparing himself for the university. I presume your son must probably have entered the university by now. How is he?
You seem to have lost your interest in the U.S. and more attracted to Europe and mainly Portugal. I know how you feel.
Let us hope that we see each other soon—and write me soon.
November 6, 1968, Iranian Imperial Embassy, London S.W.7
It was so nice to have your postcard from Portugal and to find that you are in this part of the world.
I was away in Spain, Germany, and Iran for awhile and so there was a break in our correspondence.
Since you are in Europe it would be so nice if you could come to London whenever you can. It would be wonderful to see you here. Although every arrangement we make to see each other fails to materialize I hope this one does not. After all it takes an hour or so to fly from anywhere in the continent to London and I would be more than happy to make your flight and hotel arrangements.
I am glad to hear that you are writing and that your writings are published. If there is anything in English or French I would love to see them. I had an article in the last issue of the Columbia Journal of World Business. So far I have received some 50 letters of comments. The subject is The Mirage of Foreign Aid. Since I hope to see you here soon I hope you wouldn’t want me to send you a copy.
I shall look forward to hearing from you Lorrie.
February 23, 1970, London
I received your last letter some weeks ago but couldn’t write earlier. First I was in bed with flu for two weeks and then when I recovered I didn’t know what to write.
Marriage is a gamble—some win and some lose depending on whether the mate proves to suit their taste or not. I don’t want to be the judge especially because I don’t know the source of your unhappiness. However it seems that your repeated trips and long absence from home has created the present situation. And maybe you couldn’t commit yourself to family and home which is difficult for some. I really can’t say much except that it is up to you to decide—and a decision in either way has its own implications or commitments.
It was so nice of you to consider me as a close friend and to tell me all about yourself. You already know how close I have felt to you and yet have never been able to see you on one of your trips to Europe. Next time you leave for Portugal, please let me know as I am really anxious to see you, and nothing gives mo more pleasure than seeing you.
I will be here in London for another year and will then go back to Tehran which makes it more difficult to see you. Last summer I went to Tunisia for a change and enjoyed its Mediterranean coast. Next June I have to fly to Stuttgart to pick up my car and drive back to London.
My work here is not really interesting. But the good think about London is that you have access to all the books you want. Movies, theatres and concert halls are good consolations.
We have a 20 month old boy called N—a new addition to the family—who keeps us quite busy. My wife is mostly at home doing the house work with some help from our daughter (actually hers by previous marriage) who is 17. My elder son, C, is in Düsseldorf, studying architecture and will finish the university this hear. The younger one preparing for the univ. here. I haven’t had much problem with my sons—but then I have given them a lot of time and patience. I shouldn’t say I am happy but can say that I have reduced my expectations and accept life as it is.
Lorrie, please do write me and do let me know when you will come to the continent.
June 16, 1970, London, S.W.7
I haven’t heard from you for quite some time. If it has been my fault I accept the blame.
Since summer is drawing near I was wondering whether you were thinking of coming to Europe. If so please do let me know so that I may have a chance to see you before leaving this part of the world for Iran next year.
Last month I spent a few days in Scotland and enjoyed it very much. At the moment I am planning to have a two week holiday late in July on the Italian Riviera and a few days in Düsseldorf.
Tell me how you are and how is everything with you. I hope you are in good health and good spirits and that your problems have faded away.
I wish you every happiness and joy.
Please write me,
March 10, 1974, Tehran, Iran
It was so nice of you to send me a Christmas card. I have not forgotten you and never will. Last year I sent you a card and had no reply and I though you had moved to a new address.
I was in New York for the last U.N. session and very much wanted to get in touch with you, but did not know how. Last month I received an invitation from Maxwell School to participate in a conference at Syracuse on April 18 & 19, which I accepted. I am now planning to leave Tehran for London on April 5, will be in N.Y. and Washington between April 13 & 17 and will be in Syracuse April 18 to 20. the reason I give my schedule is to find out whether there is any chance to see you on the East Coast during these dates.
I wish I had time to fly to the West Coast to see you, but I am afraid I can’t. Please write me and let me know whether you have any plans to fly East. I would love to see you in Syracuse where we first met.
It is now several years that I am in Tehran, but have made a number of trips abroad. I have accepted life as it is and have reconciled myself with myself and the world, knowing that my role in changing things is almost nil. I don’t want to be nihilistic but rather realistic. I am not unhappy and have no serious complaint about my health.
Lorrie, please write me all about yourself and how you are and what your plans are. Could I have your phone number? I would love to have your letter before my departure on April 5.
May 27, 1974, Tehran, Iran
I had your letter and your wonderful photo on my return from the States.
While in New York I tried to call you a number of times but all I got was a tape recorded reply to the effect that I should try the operator. I then got your number through the operator but there was no reply.
How much I wanted to hear your voice and to talk to you, you may not know. I would have gladly sent you a ticket to come to New York or Syracuse, but then I doubted whether or not you would come—judging by past experience.
Since I left Syracuse in 1958 I met you once in Portugal and my efforts to see you again have been in vain. Well I have to accept the circumstances as they are.
I tried to get a recent photo of myself but found out that the latest one is from two years ago in London. I promise to send you one soon.
There is nothing new here that might interest you. My elder son, C, has recently begun his work as interior architect and he is doing quite well. My 6-year old son is divided between the British school and the TV.
I am waiting for my ambassadorial post and don’t know where I will be sent to . I may go for holidays to London in mid-July. Will you be in that area around that time? Incidentally, the events in Portugal, where you spent some time, are getting quite interesting.
Please do write me soon and let me know all about yourself.
August 30, 1975, Imperial Iranian Embassy, Khartoum, Sudan
I received your card and photo in Khartoum, Sudan where I was appointed as Ambassador several weeks ago. The story is that since I am an economist and since Iran is interested in implementing a number of projects here they thought of sending me to this county. I think I will be here for 12 to 18 months and then transferred to another ambassadorial post elsewhere.
All told, I am afraid I could not see your friend in Tehran, but I do hope to see you here. Would you want me to extend an official invitation to you. There is not much fun here unless you are interested in boating on the Nile, hunting, safari expeditions or visits to animal parks in the south. The best season here are the winter months.
Well how are you and how is everything with you? I have more time to write letters and I would love to receive letters from you as often as you can send them.
My wife and 7 year old son are now in London waiting for me to find a school for the boy here. As to my two elder sons, one is working in Tehran as interior architect and he is doing very well; the other is trying to get his MSc in mechanical engineering in London.
For over a decade I have been trying to see you. Do I see you in this part of the world?
Dear Lorrie please write.
February 8, 1977, Khartoum, Sudan
I was so happy to receive your letter of January 5 and your nice photo. In order to prove that I have not remained the same I am enclosing a picture which shows all the lines on my face in detail—though my weight has almost remained the same.
There is an oil company man from San Francisco here with his wife and they keep me updated about the changes on the West Coast. I have even talked with them about the possibility of retiring over there—not in the heart of S.F. but somewhere near the ocean and yet within easy reach of the city. For the last six years I have been thinking of retiring in London which I loved very much. But then London is losing its atmosphere with less Londoners and more from the old Commonwealth. What about S.F.? Does it have anything to offer and how is life there?
I am thinking of arranging a trip to S.F., Mexico City, Hawaii in May-June if it is not too hot in the latter two places. Have you been to Mexico City and Acapulco and what is you opinion about the timing of my trip? Of course it is too early for me to know whether this trip materializes, but I would know more in a month or so. Such a trip would give me a chance to see you after years and have a long long chat with you.
In the meantime I am planning to go to Chad next week and to Tehran early March after which I have a better picture of my future trips.
Please write soon,