Thirty years ago, I worked for the U.S. Department of State and served in assignments at the American Embassy in Cairo, Egypt, the U.S. Mission to NATO in Brussels, Belgium, and at the State Department in Washington, D.C. My job was in telecommunications operations, not diplomacy. Among other things, I was a teletype operator until that equipment was replaced by computers. I operated, installed and repaired telephone equipment, radios and other communications equipment. I am still a big fan of spy novels, and when they mention “code clerks,” I actually know what one does, because I was one. This is the same kind of work Julia Childs did at the American Embassy in Paris, while she spent her off-duty hours learning about French cooking.
In Cairo, I had a friend and co-worker named Noel Petrin. Noel had already retired from a successful career as a senior Non-Commissioned Officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. Noel was nothing like the cartoon image of a big, tough Marine Sgt. He was soft-spoken and intelligent. He and his family were also neighbors of my family, and we cooked dinners for one another and shared more than a few beers and cups of coffee. American Embassy workers are a close-knit group, strangers in strange lands together. When I was scheduled to leave Cairo, the Deputy Chief of Mission had a farewell party at which I and a couple of others were guests of honor. He asked if there was anybody special he should be sure to invite. I gave him the names of Noel Petrin and his wife Ardith.
Noel stayed in the Foreign Service long enough to retire again, after serving also in Tokyo, Geneva, and even back to Egypt, in the coastal city of Alexandria. Over the years, I lost touch with all my contacts in the State Department, not counting the ones who occasionally turn up in news reports about international affairs and security. But this year, Noel’s daughter, Sarah, in a stunning bit of internet detective work, located me via my blog and asked if I had known her family in Cairo 30 years ago. She has become a loyal reader and sometimes leaves comments signed “Sarah in Switzerland.” Here is the e-mail I received from her today:
Today is the 3 year anniversary of my Dad’s passing.
As you were so kind to pray for his soul when he passed, I ask if you would say a prayer for his soul today.
He is deeply loved and still so very much missed.
Thank you for thinking of him.
With love,
Sarah.
I am the dust in the sunlight, I am the ball of the sun . . .
I am the mist of morning, the breath of evening . . . .
I am the spark in the stone, the gleam of gold in the metal . . . .
The rose, and the nightingale drunk with its fragrance.
I am the chain of being, the circle of the spheres,
The scale of creation,
the rise and the fall.
I am what is and is not . . .
I am the soul in all.
- Rumi
Sunday, September 14, 2008
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4 comments:
Bill,
Thank you so much for remembering my father. He would give one of his crooked smiles in appreciation if he were here today.
Karen(Petrin)Trease
Dear Bill:
After ransoming Googling my name and seeing this as my first link I had read the short description and it sounded like my grandfather. I desided to click on it and found it actually to be about him so I thank you for this. I was quite surprised to find something like this!
Thank you,
Noel (Ty) Petrin VII
Dearest Bill,
Today, while watching 'The Man Nobody Knew, In Search of My Father, CIA Spymaster William Colby', I became interested in learning abit more about The State Department and their part/interest in the operations during communist times; here enters Google. All I really knew, for so many years, about this part of the government is that it kept me; my siblings, and cousins from truly getting to know our grandparents. We'd get a visit maybe once a year. My grandfather would make these wonderful pita pockets fully of spicy, hamburger and cheese. My grandmother would have a suit case full of gifts for each of us from all over the world and for a week we reveled in the existence of my mothers parents. My grandfather never said much. I remember thinking "how strange". I had been around countless friends' grandfathers and they were always joyous and engaged in the generations of family around them. He just seemed a million miles away during his visits. I knew my grandfather loved us. There is no mistake. I admired my grandfather. He was a tall, slender man whom loved tennis, cooking, his morning paper, golden retriever and a cup of joe. I marveled in his quirky yet intelligent comments and conversations. I still smile at the stories told by my mother and grandmother regarding the punishments he would hand down when my uncle refused to eat his food or the time my mother drove the car without permission (which was the ONLY time she ever got into trouble).
We were told is that our grandparents simply traveled for work. So the questions were few. It wasn't until I was 18 did I learn the nature of the travel.
My grandfather has been gone 8 yrs this past September and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him and wish we had had more time together. All I have to leave my children are a few pictures and memories.
Your remembrance above of Noel Petrin, my
grandfather, is yet one more piece of information that I can she with my 4 children about their maternal great grandfather.
Thank you for you kinds words and sharing your memories.
Rachel LeBlanc
1st born grandchild of Noel and Ardith Petrin
(Daughter of Karen Petrin)
Dearest Bill,
Today, while watching 'The Man Nobody Knew, In Search of My Father, CIA Spymaster William Colby', I became interested in learning abit more about The State Department and their part/interest in the operations during communist times; here enters Google. All I really knew, for so many years, about this part of the government is that it kept me; my siblings, and cousins from truly getting to know our grandparents. We'd get a visit maybe once a year. My grandfather would make these wonderful pita pockets fully of spicy, hamburger and cheese. My grandmother would have a suit case full of gifts for each of us from all over the world and for a week we reveled in the existence of my mothers parents. My grandfather never said much. I remember thinking "how strange". I had been around countless friends' grandfathers and they were always joyous and engaged in the generations of family around them. He just seemed a million miles away during his visits. I knew my grandfather loved us. There is no mistake. I admired my grandfather. He was a tall, slender man whom loved tennis, cooking, his morning paper, golden retriever and a cup of joe. I marveled in his quirky yet intelligent comments and conversations. I still smile at the stories told by my mother and grandmother regarding the punishments he would hand down when my uncle refused to eat his food or the time my mother drove the car without permission (which was the ONLY time she ever got into trouble).
We were told is that our grandparents simply traveled for work. So the questions were few. It wasn't until I was 18 did I learn the nature of the travel.
My grandfather has been gone 8 yrs this past September and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him and wish we had had more time together. All I have to leave my children are a few pictures and memories.
Your remembrance above of Noel Petrin, my
grandfather, is yet one more piece of information that I can she with my 4 children about their maternal great grandfather.
Thank you for you kinds words and sharing your memories.
Rachel LeBlanc
1st born grandchild of Noel and Ardith Petrin
(Daughter of Karen Petrin)
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