“Go home! Protests against the Shah are illegal.” Kkkkkttttt…. The sound of the machine gun was terrifying

Tehran, Iran 1978

The Iranian revolution began in the spring of 1978 when four Islamic militants burned down a building in Abadan, Iran.

Four hundred people were killed in that fire and many more people would be killed in the Islamic extremists’ quest for power and change.

“Death to the Shah! Death to the Shah!”

Iranian revolutionaries proclaimed Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the Iranian king, a puppet of the United States. They demonstrated against his rulership and democratic policies and demanded the instatement of Muslim leader  Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini instead.

As a 13-year-old girl peering out of the window or door of my family’s small rental, I’d often wring my hands together.

Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. His picture was stuck on poles held by demonstrators. Did the Islamic leader really hold the key to my country’s happiness? To my personal happiness?

“Ansaraf. Ansaraf.” The Shah’s imperial police officers would come running into the streets during a demonstration, spraying long strings of bullets in every direction. “Go home! Protests against the Shah are illegal.” Kkkkkttttt…. The sound of the machine gun was terrifying. But fear of the unknown was even worse.

Often, I’d turn away from the doorway and run to my bed to cower under my pillow in terror.

“Death to the Shah!”

Kkkkktttt!