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Iran: a tale of arrogance, self-delusion and unforced blunders by Marjorie Arons-Barron

The entry below is being cross posted from Marjorie Arons-Barron’s own blog.

King of Kings: The Iranian Revolution: A Story of Hubris, Delusion and Catastrophic Miscalculation by Scott Anderson is a spellbinding journalistic revelation of the innermost thinking and maneuvering of key players in Iran and the United States leading up to the 1979 American Embassy seizure of hostages that would change the course of world events. Anderson deftly gives us the back story to the event that shaped global affairs for the last half century.  The key players are not just those in the headlines but also lesser-known individuals who were impactful behind the scenes – for good and for evil.

King of Kings is a brilliant accounting of the decades-long history of the United States’ relationship with the Middle East’s most consequential country, from FDR’s snubbing of the Shah at the Tehran Conference in WWII, to our indifference to its rich cultural past, to our 1953 Cold War overthrow of its democratically elected government, replacing its president Mohammad Mossadegh with our government’s pawn, Shah Reza Pahlevi.  We learn more about how the Shah spent much of his time on our doorstep, begging for armaments, again feeling humiliated when the United States capped what they were willing to sell, valuing Iran primarily as a presumed buffer against Russian communism. Until oil.

Oil has been central to the U.S. Iran relationship for more than 50 years, with periodic oil crises deepening American involvement there and cementing Iran’s role as a preeminent regional power. In 1972, with Nixon and Kissinger removing any limits to the arms Iran  could buy, the shahanshah, (king of kings) intensified his building the largest army in the Middle East. This military muscle was in addition to the threat of Savak, the national security agency that the CIA helped to grow in the late fifties.

The underclasses struggled economically and lived in constant fear of political imprisonment or death at the hands of the all-seeing Savak. It seems inevitable that they would turn increasingly to the religious leaders, mullahs who included Ruhollah Khomeini, whom the Shah had arrested back in 1963.  As the aging cleric’s popularity grew, the Shah exiled him. He remained abroad from 1964-1979, largely in France.  From there, Khomeini sent home tape cassettes of his rants against the Shah’s regime and the American “satans” who had installed the Shah on the throne and kept him there.

With market manipulation and oil revenues exploding in the 1970s, Iran’s military and upper classes became progressively more corrupt. The shah was indecisive about reform, and his inner circle – fearing falling out of favor – told him only what he wanted to hear. (Sound familiar?) He thought he was beloved by his people, but his grip on power was becoming more precarious.

In 1977, Kissinger and successor-President Gerald Ford were replaced by a well-meaning Jimmy Carter, honest but naïve.  He got elected by promising the American people he would never lie to them; his inner circle lied to him about Iran. CIA chief Stansfield Turner, Secretary of State Cyrus Vance, and national security advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski were all certain that moderates among the revolutionaries would prevail.  None of them had ever heard Khomeini’s calls for action because secretly-acquired cassettes of his fiery speeches were never translated by either the CIA or State Department.

So the American government was unprepared for the growing turmoil in Iran, ignorant of the truth on the ground. 50,000 Americans lived in Iran, but the CIA, military and foreign service operatives knew nothing of the 2500-year history, culture, and dramatically different mindset for negotiation of the country in which they were stationed. They never bothered to learn the language or connect with people in the streets. They lived in a bubble, convincing themselves and those to whom they reported in Washington that their pawn, Shah Pahlevi, was on solid ground.

If there is a single hero in Anderson’s vibrant account, it would be Michael Metrinko, who, in his youth, had gone to Iran in the Peace Corps and later ended up working for the State Department. He walked the streets, knew the people, and spoke Farsi.  His oft-repeated warnings about the growing instability of the Shah’s regime earned him rebukes and demotion. He eventually would be one of the 52 hostages held for 444 days. Ironically, he was often kept in isolation because the revolutionaries inferred from his speaking Farsi that he was CIA!

Anderson goes into great detail about the hours and days leading up to the toppling of the Shah, the institutionalizing of the arch-conservative theocratic state, the hostage negotiations, and the impact on the 1980 American election. Did these events influence the worldwide rise of militant religious fundamentalism – of all shades? While no definitive answer can be given today, there are enough examples that give credence to this.

As Donald Trump tries to negotiate us out of a losing hand of his own making in Iran,  King of Kings enriches today’s readers with an appreciation of Iran’s multiple historic complexities.  Trump, if he read books, would recognize himself as one in a line of powerful people whose hubris allowed them to be played by the Iranians. On this, Iran’s day of national mourning for the Ayatollah, Anderson’s book is a valuable reminder of the futility of the path chosen by our willfully obtuse and imperious President.

Graham Platner: the last straw by Marjorie Arons-Barron

The entry below is being cross posted from Marjorie Arons-Barron’s own blog.

About a month ago I wrote a blog asserting that, unless some new major scandal erupted causing Graham Platner to leave the race, Maine voters would be faced in November with two bad US Senate choices—but for different reasons.

Monday’s apparently credible rape allegation has proven the tipping point for his top Democratic supporters, who had previously downplayed repeated examples of Platner’s egregious behavior in favor of realpolitik, the need to wrest Republican control of the Senate from Trump-worshipping Republicans. The latest revelation was also too much for my own already strained and heavily qualified endorsement.

Now we are told that Platner appears to be holding the Democratic Party hostage — refusing to drop out unless he gets to approve his successor to run for the Senate. Seriously?

Apparently, Platner and his “cabinet” want the party to choose former state Senate president Troy Jackson, who recently came in third in the gubernatorial primary and has now filed papers for a Senate exploratory committee.  In a July 4th– 6th poll, he was the only candidate ahead of Collins by more than the margin of error.  But this early snapshot has been matched by previous challengers who have ultimately lost to Collins. While Jackson may be the best option for keeping Platner’s rural working-class/progressive supporters from feeling betrayed, he may not reassure moderates (or Portland liberals) or the state’s plurality of independent voters as much as other alternatives.  His profile, especially after a nasty heavily PAC-funded negative campaign, could cost him support in the more conservative 2nd District despite having previously done well in some communities there under Maine’s ranked-choice system.

The strongest replacement on paper is probably Janet Mills. As a two-term governor, she is known to Maine voters and can credibly run against Susan Collins as a pragmatic Democrat—and not be attacked as a DSA insurgent. She was margin-of-error ahead of Collins in the last two-way poll before she dropped out. But Mills was Chuck Schumer’s choice in the primary and carries that baggage along with her own 53% unfavorability rating.  Most significantly, if elected, she’d be 79 on taking office  and pledged to serve only one term—not an asset in a Senate where seniority (which Collins has) means power.

If Democrats want a replacement who feels serious, competent and less factional, Nirav Shah may be the best non-Mills option. Shah is the former deputy director of the Maine CDC and principal deputy director (and acting director) of the U. S. CDC. His public-health leadership can project steadiness, and he has statewide visibility from his well-regarded role during the pandemic and having finished second in the gubernatorial primary.

Shah could appeal to suburban, college-educated, and moderate voters—and independents. Offering a clean contrast with Platner’s scandals, he is less burdened by old intraparty fights and newer ideological ones. But he has less obvious electoral muscle than Mills or Collins,  and he would need to re-introduce himself fast.

Maine’s first female Secretary of State Shenna Bellows is also reportedly receiving encouragement. She’s a capable communicator, has statewide visibility and political experience and could energize Democratic activists, but she may be easier for Republicans to nationalize as partisan or ideological—and she lost to Collins by a landslide in 2014. Against Collins, Democrats need someone who can win independents, not just consolidate Democrats.

Maine’s second district Congressman Jared Golden might have been a natural, a Democrat re-elected in a district that heavily favored Donald Trump.  But increasing incivility in politics and threats to elected officials and their families have led him to retire after 11 years, swearing off politics altogether. His retirement announcement was poignant and attests to why the electoral process is facing so many losses of good people.

Maine is a real pickup opportunity because Susan Collins is vulnerable but still personally resilient. Platner’s scandals have given Collins an obvious contrast: stability vs chaos, character vs risk.

The clock is ticking. Platner must exit by July 13 at 5 p.m. ET for Democrats to have until July 27 to select a replacement nominee.  The right choice by him would give Collins less reason to present herself as the adult in the room. It would restore the race to being about Collins, and that means about Bret Kavanaugh, abortion rights, health care and Donald Trump.

In the wake of the most recent sexual assault charges, which Platner claims are untrue, he said he would make a decision about withdrawing from the race in terms of what was “the best path forward for the state that I love, the people that I love, the movement I belong to and the goal of defeating Susan Collins.”  If he means what he said, he will withdraw quickly, giving Maine’s Democrats enough days to sort it all out and increase the odds of retiring a longtime Senator who has been a reliable vote for Trump, his nominees and most of his policies.

There’s a need for speed, but also for transparency that is authentic, not just performative. Doing that in just two weeks is a tall order, but it is essential to validate the party’s ultimate decision. This could include some sort of caucus system, a convention, along with candidate debates. A messy backroom replacement could worsen the problem. One hopes that party leaders are already working out an approach that rationalizes the process and validates the party’s next nominee to defeat Susan Collins.

Lowell Politics: July 12, 2026

There was no Lowell City Council meeting this week so I will return to my biographical sketches of the mayors of Lowell. This is the third installment which covers the first 18 mayors who served under the Plan E form of government (1945 to 1983).

For those who missed the first installment of this series, it was published on my website, richardhowe.com, on June 14, 2026. The second installment was published on June 28, 2026. The fourth installment, covering the second batch of Plan E mayors from 1984 to the present, should be published on July 26, 2026.

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Woodbury F. Howard was mayor in 1944-45. He was born in Lowell on April 3, 1905, and graduated from Lowell High School, Harvard University and Harvard Law School. He established a law practice in Lowell which he maintained throughout his life. He was a leading advocate for the adoption of Plan E in Lowell and was elected to the first council under that system. When that council took the oath of office on Monday, January 3, 1944, they elected Howard to be the city’s first Plan E mayor. He received five votes; Joseph Sweeney, who had served as acting mayor after the resignation of George Ashe, received three votes; and William Geary received one vote. Howard died on December 3, 1962, at age 57. At the time of his death, he lived at 24 Nesmith Street. He is buried in Edson Cemetery.

Leo A. Roy was mayor in 1946-47. He was born in Lowell on October 22, 1901. At the time of his death, he was the superintendent of maintenance for the Lowell Housing Authority’s North Common Village housing development. In 1936 he was elected as a ward councilor under the Plan B system and continued to be a councilor under Plan E, serving a total of sixteen years. In January 1946 he was elected mayor on the eighth ballot, receiving votes from J. Elzear Dionne, Vincent Hockmeyer, J. Russell Scott, Joseph J. Sweeney and himself. In earlier ballots, Sweeney had voted for William C. Geary who had his own vote plus that of Francis McMahon. Bart Callery voted for himself throughout the balloting. Roy died in Lowell on October 30, 1968, and is buried in St. Joseph Cemetery. The city subsequently named the municipal parking garage at 100 Market Street after him as the Leo A. Roy Parking Facility.

George A. Ayotte was mayor in 1948-49. He was born in Lowell on April 20, 1907. He owned and operated several markets in the city and was an accomplished musician. He was elected to the school committee in 1946 and to the city council in 1948, serving on the council until 1959. On January 5, 1948, he was elected mayor on the fifteenth ballot with votes from Vincent Hockmeyer, Woodbury F. Howard, Leo A. Roy, Bartholomew J. Callery and himself. The closest challenger was Councilor Joseph J. Sweeney who had received four votes on several earlier ballots. Ayotte died in Lowell on August 13, 1998, at age 91. He is buried in St. Joseph Cemetery. The city dedicated the parking garage at 1 Post Office Square (adjacent to the Tsongas Arena) after him as the George A. Ayotte Municipal Parking Facility.

William C. Geary was mayor in 1950. He was born in Lowell on May 22, 1899. He served in the U.S. Army in World War I and was awarded a Purple Heart for wounds suffered in combat in France. After the war, he was appointed director of the city’s office of state aid. He was elected to the city council in 1944 and served until 1951. He was also elected to the state senate in 1946 and continued serving concurrently on the council. At the city council inauguration on January 3, 1950, Geary received four votes for mayor. After sixteen ballots, the council recessed the mayoral election to the next evening’s council meeting. Geary retained his four votes until another recess was called after a total of 250 ballots had been cast. The vote resumed the next evening, but the stalemate continued through 327 ballots. The next night, January 6, 1950, no mayor was elected so the council recessed again after 432 ballots. Finally, on January 7, 1950, George C. Eliades, who had become Geary’s chief competitor, switched his vote to Geary which gave him the necessary five votes. Just a year later, however, Geary announced that he was resigning as mayor although he was retaining his seat on the council and Eliades was elected mayor to complete that term. William C. Geary died in Lowell in February 1962, at age 62. He is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery. (His grandson, Michael Geary served as a city councilor in the 1990s and is currently city clerk.)

George C. Eliades was mayor in 1951. He was born to Greek parents in Smyrna (now known as Izmir, Turkey) in 1901 and attended school there, including college. He came to the United States in 1921 to attend Boston University Law School. After passing the Massachusetts Bar, he began practicing law in Lowell. He was elected to the Lowell City Council and, on January 10, 1951, was elected mayor by fellow councilors to fill the unexpired term of Mayor William Geary who had resigned as mayor that evening. Eliades was the first Greek American mayor of Lowell. He died in Lowell on February 16, 1962, at age 60. At the time of his death, he lived at 46 Pentucket Avenue. He is buried in Westlawn Cemetery.

Henry Beaudry was mayor in 1952-53. He was born in Lowell on February 14, 1896, and operated Beaudry’s Restaurant at 470 Suffolk Street. He served on the school committee and on the city council. On January 7, 1952, he was elected mayor on the twenty-sixth ballot. He died in March 1969 and is buried in St. Joseph Cemetery.

John Janas was mayor in 1954-55. He was born in Lowell on September 4, 1910, and graduated from Lowell High School. He was first elected to the school committee and then to the city council where he served for 14 years. When the city council gathered for inauguration day on January 4, 1954, only eight councilors were present. The ninth seat was in dispute and the subject of court proceedings that ultimately ended up in the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court. The eight councilors tried repeatedly over several days to elect a mayor, but no one received the necessary five votes. Finally, after the SJC had issued its decision, the ninth councilor – Samuel Sampson – was seated and on the 208th ballot, Janas received five votes and was elected, making him the first Polish American mayor of Lowell. In 1962, he was elected as a state representative, an office he continued to hold until his death on December 5, 1969, at age 59. He is buried in St. Casimir’s Polish National Cemetery in Pelham, New Hampshire. The state ice skating rink built on Douglas Road in 1971 was named after him as the John J. Janas Memorial Ice Skating Rink. (In the 1990s, his granddaughter, Kathleen Janas, served a term on the Lowell School Committee.)

Samuel S. Pollard was mayor in 1956-57 and in 1958-59. He was born in Lowell on October 19, 1915. He was elected to the Plan B city council in 1941 but resigned to enlist in the U.S. Army at the start of World War II. He saw considerable combat during his 46 months in the service and was awarded two Purple Hearts, including one for being severely wounded in the Battle of the Bulge. He was elected to the Plan E city council in 1951 and was repeatedly reelected. In January 1956 he was elected mayor on the first ballot with five votes. On the next inauguration day, January 6, 1958, no one received five votes. The deadlock continued through four separate gatherings, however, on January 21, 1958, on the 141st ballot, Pollard received six votes, making him the first person under Plan E to hold the office of mayor for consecutive terms. He died on November 18, 1980, at age 65. He is buried in St. Mary Cemetery in Tewksbury. The city of Lowell named its public library after him as the Samuel Pollard Memorial Library.

Raymond J. Lord was mayor in 1960-61. He was born in Lowell on September 18, 1912, and graduated from Lowell High School. In 1940, he was elected ward councilor under Plan B. In 1944, he was elected to the Plan E city council but resigned to enlist in the U.S. Navy. He served in the Pacific Theater during World War II. Returning to Lowell, he was elected to the council in 1945 but in 1947 was elected state representative where he served for eight years. He left the legislature when he was made an Assistant Commissioner of Public Safety. He also won a seat on the city council and was chosen unanimously to be mayor. He did not run for reelection in 1964. He died on February 6, 1972, at age 59 and is buried in St. Joseph Cemetery. (The Lord Overpass is named after his father, Louis Lord, who preceded him as a ward councilor; and his son, Raymond Lord Jr. was a city councilor in the 1970s.)

Joseph M. Downes was mayor in 1962-63. He was born in Lowell on March 21, 1919, and graduated from Lowell High School where he was a star baseball player. He served in the U.S. Navy in the Pacific Theater during World War II. In 1946, he became a Lowell Police Officer and served with the department for 20 years. She served several terms on the city council, and on January 2, 1962, was elected mayor on a six to three vote. He died on November 16, 1993, at age 74, and is buried in Tewksbury Cemetery. The city of Lowell dedicated the parking garage at 75 John Street after him as the Joseph M. Downes Sr. Municipal Parking Facility.

Ellen A. Sampson was mayor in 1964-65 and again in 1972-73. She was born in Greece on December 4, 1912, and came to the United States at a young age. She attended school in Cambridge and moved to Lowell in 1940. She was elected to the Lowell City Council in 1959, succeeding her late husband, Samuel Sampson, who died while on the council. On January 6, 1964, she became the first female mayor of Lowell, winning the office on a five to four vote. After losing reelection, she returned to the council in 1968. On Thursday, January 6, 1972, she was elected to her second term as mayor, winning the office on the 106th ballot. On inauguration day (Monday, January 3, 1972), Paul Tsongas and Phil Shea were the leading contenders, but neither could get the necessary 5th vote. After 15 ballots at the inauguration, the council voted to recess and resume the voting at the next evening’s regularly scheduled council meeting. During the 51 ballots cast that night (Tuesday, January 4, 1972), Shea, Tsongas and Richard Howe all received 4 votes on various ballots, but none could reach 5. Another recess was held and two nights later (Thursday, January 6, 1972) after 40 more ballots that night, Phil Shea announced he was withdrawing his candidacy and would vote for Sampson who was elected on the next ballot. On that decisive 106th ballot, Sampson received votes from Leo Farley, Charles Gallagher, Robert Kennedy, Shea and herself. Paul Tsongas received votes from Richard Howe, Gail Dunfey, Brendan Fleming and himself. The city of Lowell dedicated the stretch of Dutton Street from the Lord Overpass to Merrimack Street after her as the Ellen A. Sampson Connector.

Edward J. Early Jr. was mayor in 1966-67. He was born in Lowell on July 23, 1931, and graduated from Keith Academy and Boston College. He served in the U.S. Navy from 1953 to 1956, then was a social worker at the Tewksbury State Hospital while attending Suffolk Law School in the evenings. He practiced law until his retirement at age 80. He was elected to the city council and served there for eight years. On January 3, 1966, he was elected mayor on the first ballot by a six to three vote. In 1972, he was elected state representative where he served until 1977 when he was elected Northern Middlesex Register of Deeds. He held that office for 18 years until his retirement in 1995. He died in Lowell on September 4, 2023, at age 92. He is buried in St. Mary Cemetery. The city of Lowell dedicated the municipal parking garage at 135 Middlesex Street after him as the Edward J. Early Jr. Parking Facility.

Robert C. Maguire was mayor in 1968-69 and in 1980-81. He was born in Lowell on May 24, 1928, and attended Keith Academy and Providence College. He served with the U.S. Army in Europe during the Korean War. After the service, he worked for New England Power Service Company for many years. He was elected to the city council in 1965. In January 1968 he was elected mayor on the first ballot by a six to three vote. In January 1980, he was again elected mayor, this time on the third ballot. He served a total of 16 years on the city council. In 1983, he was named administrator of the Lowell Regional Transit Authority, a position he held until his retirement in 1993. In 2007, the LRTA dedicated the central building at the Gallagher Transportation Terminal on Thorndike Street after him. He died on March 31, 2018, at age 89. He is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery.

Richard P. Howe was mayor in 1970-71, 1988-89, 1990-91 and 1994-95. He was born in Lowell on December 30, 1932, and graduated from Keith Academy and Providence College. After serving two years in the U.S. Army, he became a teacher at Lowell High School and attended Suffolk University Law School in the evening. After passing the Massachusetts Bar, he began practicing law in Lowell and continued in that profession until his retirement in 2011. He was elected to the city council in 1965 and then reelected to twenty consecutive terms serving a total of 40 years. On January 5, 1970, he was elected mayor on the fifth ballot on a five to four vote; on January 4, 1988, he was elected mayor unanimously on the first ballot; on January 2, 1990, he was elected mayor on the first ballot by a six to three vote; and on January 3, 1994, he was elected to a fourth term as mayor on an eight to one vote. He died on September 25, 2015, at age 82. He is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery.

Armand W. LeMay was mayor in 1974-75. He was elected to the city council in 1967 and served until 1987 when he did not seek reelection. In January 1974, he was elected mayor on the first ballot by a five to four vote. Most of his life he worked in construction and eventually was named Superintendent of State Buildings by Governor Michael Dukakis. LeMay, now in his 90s, still lives in Lowell. The city of Lowell dedicated a park at 123 University Avenue after him. (His son, Curtis LeMay, succeeded him on the Lowell City Council and later served on the Greater Lowell Vocational School Committee.)

Leo J. Farley Jr. was mayor in 1976-77. He was born in Lowell on June 1, 1926. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and after the war worked as a guard at the Massachusetts Correctional Institution in Concord and as a Lowell city planner. He was elected to the city council in 1970 and served until 1977. In January 1976, he was elected mayor on the third ballot on a five to four vote. In 1977, he was elected state representative and served until 1979. He died in Lowell on July 14, 1984, at age 58. He is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery.

Raymond F. Rourke was mayor in 1978-79. He was born in Lowell on October 10, 1917. He attended Keith Academy and Lowell Commercial College and served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. He was also a Lowell firefighter for 20 years. He was elected state representative in 1956 and served in that office for 19 years. He resigned from the House in 1975 to become the state’s Deputy Secretary of Transportation, a position he held for ten years. He was elected to the Lowell City Council in 1977 and was elected mayor when that council was inaugurated in January 1978 on the third ballot. He served for eleven years on the city council. He died on May 24, 2004, at age 86. He is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery. The city named the bridge over the Merrimack River from Wood Street to Pawtucket Boulevard the Rourke Bridge after Ray and his son Timothy, who died in 1982 while serving as a state representative. Also, the Lowell Regional Transit Authority named its parking garage on Westford Street after him as the Raymond Rourke Parking Facility. (Susan Rourke was the spouse of Timothy Rourke and succeeded him as a state representative after this death. She would be the daughter-in-law of Ray. Also, current city councilor Daniel Rourke is not directly related to Ray.)

Brendon Fleming was mayor in 1982-83. He was born in Lowell on February 2, 1926. He graduated from Keith Academy and Boston College and served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. He was a member of the math faculty at UMass Lowell for more than 40 years, having begun teaching at Lowell Technological Institute in 1958. He was elected to the city council in 1969 and served until 1992. He died on May 28, 2016, at age 90, and is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery.

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This week in my Seen & Heard column, I commented on several articles from the Boston Globe and New York Times with the titles, “Inside Trump’s Great American State Fair”; “NFL ‘Insider’ Whose Access Became the Story”; “Trump Rants Divide Court on Race Bias”; “Israelis Watch Ties With US Coming Loose”; and “Questions swirl around Duck Boat accident.”

‘Sonic Boom’ by Paul Marion

Here’s a story, a memory from my early days in Dracut, Mass. When I was growing up, high-speed aircraft often broke the sound barrier even over residential areas. The enormous boom results from a massive shock wave caused by the aircraft moving faster than the speed of sound. This is something that has been regulated out of our daily lives for a common sense reason–think shattered windows and security alarms going off. But what I’m recalling is a rare accident involving a military plane. — PM

Sonic Boom: A Local Aircraft Story (1958)

North American F-86A (P-86-A) Sabre jet, not the exact aircraft in the story (image courtesy of Smithsonian Institution)

The plane crashed. The pilot survived. I don’t know if I saw this or was told about it by my parents or remember the incident because I heard others describe it. In my mind I see myself in real time either standing in the front yard of my family home on outer Hildreth Street in Dracut with my father or with my mother looking out the west-facing picture window of our small ranch.

I was four years old on June 8, 1958, when an F86L jet fighter arrowed down out of the sky at 3:30 p.m. on a Sunday about a mile from my house. New Hampshire Air National Guard pilot Peter Gulick on a patrol flying out of Manchester, New Hampshire, was returning to Grenier Air Force Base when the engine on his swept-wing Sabre jet failed, “flamed out,” he said, forcing him to eject. A second jet on the same maneuver also went down due to mechanical issues and fuel trouble, this one in a forest many miles to the north. Both pilots were in the 133rd Fighter-Interceptor Squadron at Grenier.

Ray Kelly was outside in the Navy Yard section of town when he saw the plane descend at a frightening rate above the J. P. Stevens Mill next to one of the Beaver Brook dams, veering north to the New Hampshire state line. Archie Wolf and Ronnie Cartier were at Fox’s Dairy on Bridge Street a couple of miles to the east in Dracut Center. After the plane went out of view somewhere beyond the Rifle Range and Colburn Avenue, Archie’s father drove the boys to the scene. They waited on the road while the dad joined cops and firefighters who ran into the woods to help.

The sound in the sky. In those years we were not surprised by the sudden rolling thunder of a jet plane breaking the sound barrier. An aircraft reaching a speed faster than sound tripped a massive sonic boom, shaking the clouds.

But this was a different noise. The enormous bang of the “expulsion chute explosives” would have made my neighbors look up if they had not already spotted the transonic aircraft hurtling nose-first toward the forest at the end of Hildreth Street. The parachute carrying First Lieutenant Gulick sailed over and then into the distant dark green woods. The pilot did his best to direct the plane away from houses. He may have been 2,000 feet up with the jet going 200 miles per hour when he bailed out. His chute caught in a pine tree twenty feet up.

Chopping wood 100 yards away from the impact site, Alex Bursey dropped his axe and followed a trail toward the spot where he had seen the parachute touch treetops. He was able to help the slightly hurt pilot out of the woods. The jet smashed into a natural sand pit near a clearing with marshes and a small pond—more like a water hole—a place where my friends and I played hockey when I was older. Civil and military authorities, including Air Police from two nearby bases, sealed off the widespread crash site as best as possible. Jean Turner of the Lowell Sun reported that police turned away hundreds of sightseers in cars who converged on the crash location, eager to get a look at the shattered plane.

I learned much later that the Sabre jet carried “top secret” computer equipment designed for intercepting enemy aircraft. On summer days with fishing rods or just to snoop around, my friends and I hiked to the crash site and often returned with metal fragments as big as a hand. Twenty years after the crash, the largest parts of the jet were dug up and sold to a salvage yard for the still-valuable aircraft aluminum. Leo Gamache remembers because he drove the truck carrying the broken wings.

—Paul Marion (c) 2023

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