Invitation to Ethiopia to speak on The Man Called Brown Condor
By Thomas E Simmons
I have just returned from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia where I spoke on my book, The Man Called Brown Condor and the Italo-Ethiopian War. The trip (all expenses paid) was at the request of former Ethiopian president Girma Wolde Giorgis and Frederick Yaw Davis, Director of the Pan African Technical Association (PATA). Ato Tewolde Gebremariam, CEO of Ethiopian Air Lines, graciously extended to me and Mr. Davis complementary travel on Ethiopian Airlines.
Yaw Davis and His Excellency former Ethiopian president Girma Wolde Giorgis
THE TRIP
After having my passport with visa checked, I boarded an Ethiopian Airlines (EAL) Boeing 787 at Dulles on Monday morning, the 25th of March, 2014 for the 10:15 am, non-stop flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia in East Africa near the junction of the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. It was snowing in Washington and the wings and horizontal tail surfaces had accumulated three inches of snow. All aircraft that morning had to be cleared of snow and ice with di-icing fluid just before takeoff delaying our flight until 11: 30 am. We had a flight 7500 miles and over fourteen flying hours ahead of us.
EAL
Aboard the Boeing 787, every seat, whether economy or first class had a computer screen which allowed passengers to view a choice of movies or games, but the item I chose was the flight-following selection which tracks the position of the aircraft in real time as it moves across a full color topographic map. As a pilot, I found this fascinating. You also have a “your flight” button which gives the altitude, speed, outside air temperature and distance traveled at any given moment. We climbed through the weather to break out in sunlight at 38,000 feet. For a while, because of the snowstorm winds off the East Coast, we picked up a tail wind and were clocking a speed of just over 700 miles per hour over the ground. The outside temperature was -78 degrees F. We would gradually lose the tail wind and the speed would vary between 550 and 450 miles per hour over the ground.
As I watched, our flight track moved up the East Coast of the U.S. and Canada. Between Nova Scotia and Newfoundland we turned out over the North Atlantic for the “Great Circle Route.” I noticed we flew directly over the site of the sinking of the Titanic which was marked on the tracking map as were such ocean bottom features as the great Hudson Canyon.
Even having taken a sleeping pill, I slept very little. In between following our track over the earth on the screen in front of me, I spent time reading the book, Citizens of London, The Americans who stood with Britain in Its Darkest, Finest Hour by Lynne Olson. An excellent read by the way.
Watching our flight track, I wondered what people of yore would have thought of our marvelous “flying carpet” as we sat comfortably seven miles above the earth traveling at 550 miles per hour. I wondered if many of those flying with me, eating hot meals and drinking iced drinks, coffee or tea served by pretty, almond-skinned young Ethiopian women, have become too accustomed to 21st Century comforts to even give passing thought to the fact that they were traveling in a miracle of technological achievement, an assembly of millions of carefully engineered parts and a hundred miles of wiring connecting electronic control, communication, navigation, instrument, lighting, heating, air and life support systems. And I should mention safety. EAL has an excellent safety record and their cabin service and food are second to none.
I thought about that as we made landfall over Lisbon, Portugal and flew beyond Madrid and Valencia, Spain out over the Mediterranean. Flying over the isle of Ibiza, with Morocco and Algeria off our right wing, we crossed into Africa, briefly touching Tunis before crossing more of the Mediterranean just south of Malta and making landfall again over Benghazi, Libya. Flying above a corner of Egypt and a piece of the Sahara where camels still provide transportation, we crossed over Khartoum, Sudan to enter Ethiopian air space. I thought of the rich history of what to most Westerners are still the ancient, exotic lands of North and East Africa. At last, we touched down, light on fuel, at Bole International Airport at Addis Ababa at 7:00 am local time on the morning of Tuesday, 26th of March. I thought it strange to have taken off from Dulles on the morning of the 25th to land at my destination on the morning of the 26th. It is explained by the fact that the Ethiopian time zone is eight hours ahead of Washington.
After moving through customs like a zombie, I was met in the receiving area by Fredrick Yaw Davis, Director of the Pan African Technical Association headquartered in Los Angeles, California and one of the sponsors of my trip. Although we had communicated a great deal concerning the trip, this was the first time we had met face to face. Yaw, with a big grin on his bearded face, welcomed me to Addis Ababa. He would be my guide and friend throughout the venture.
Tom in front of Presidential Palace
Having traveled halfway around the world, Yaw and driver delivered me to my hotel (a nice small European type) where I showered, shaved, took a nice nap, and dressed in time to be picked-up by them again at 11:00 am. We drove through a very busy Addis Ababa to the American Embassy where I made the first talk. There we were met by embassy official Robert Post and Birhanu Yohannes. In addition I met Dr. Abiy Ford who was taught to fly by Robinson in Ethiopia. An American citizen, he was raised in Addis Ababa where his mother ran a girls school prior to the Italian invasion in 1936. He lives there part time having retired from teaching at Howard University. After the talk at the Embassy, Dr. Ford took me to the old palace where Emperor Haile Selassie lived when Robinson first arrived to fly for Ethiopia. Selassie gave the old palace to the University of Ethiopia after he built a new one following WW II. The Palace, part museum and part university library, shows wear but it was still quite an experience to walk the halls where John Robinson first met Emperor Selassie and later delivered dispatches from the front lines during the Italo-Ethiopian war.
Speaking event at the Palace
Later that evening, Yaw and driver took me to an Ethiopian Restaurant where we drank Ethiopian beer and ate Ethiopian food in the traditional manner—a variety of servings on a large two-foot-round of very thin bread made from a grain that only grows on the high plateau of the country. There are no utensils. To eat, one breaks off a little bread and uses it to scoop up a bite of this or that. I don’t know exactly what I ate, but tasted it all and found it very good, if a little spicy.
The next morning, Yaw joined me for breakfast on the little second floor terrace of the hotel and planned out the day. We toured more of the large city which is a mixture of the ancient and the modern—high rise buildings on six lane avenues lined with modern enterprises and offices and narrow dirt streets with open kiosks selling everything from food to crafts, clothing, books and hardware. There is new construction ongoing all over the city. The country’s economy was wrecked by the Red Terror committed by Mengistu Haile Mariam’s communist regime established with the help of Castro, Che Gevera and Cuban troops 1975-89. It is estimated that over 500,000 Ethiopians, essentially educated merchants, landlords, the very students who at first supported the coup, many children and almost anyone who was literate or expressed opposition or criticism were horribly tortured and killed by the communists. I visited, among other museums, the Museum of The Red Terror. One needs a strong stomach to see the displays there. Only when the USSR began to collapse, and its support for the Mengistu regime ceased, was a new democratic government established. Today, as the country struggles to rebuild its economy, one can see free enterprise blooming everywhere from small kiosks to new construction projects and one of the finest air lines anywhere, Ethiopian Air Lines (EAL).
The people of Ethiopia are friendly, polite to the point of shyness, and handsome in facial features unique to Ethiopia. They are proud of their ancient country. Almost all who have had schooling speak English.
On the second day, we again had breakfast on the hotel terrace. The morning was spent preparing for my talk at the “invitation only” luncheon at the former president Girma Wolde Giorgis’s home. We arrived at the modern, walled and quite beautiful home at 11:00 am. This gave me an hour to talk with his Excellency. He was taught to fly by Col. John Robinson and served in the new Ethiopian Air Force. I was pleased to hear him compliment the book which he had obviously read. By 12:30 pm the well-dressed crowd had arrived and the festivities began. After several distinguished guests who had known Col. John Robinson had been introduced and made brief talks on this memorial of the 60th anniversary of Robinson’s death, I was introduced and spoke, which seemed to be well received. Afterwards, it was a thrill to me to meet former pilots that had been taught by and served under John Robinson. Most were in their nineties. The guests made it clear that Robinson was a loved and admired man in Ethiopia as the celebration lingered into the late afternoon. As I was leaving with Yaw Davis and a driver, I was told that his Excellency, several years before, had purchased a large tract of land in the countryside and established a lion preserve. Its first guest were two lions that were freed from their cages at the Palace. Many more have been added, both adults and cubs found by the army on maneuvers, or captured as threats to villages. The President offered, if I was interested, to lend me his driver and SUV to take me to visit the preserve which can be entered by invitation. I jumped at the chance.
Tom at the Lion Preserve
At eight o’clock the next morning, Yaw, myself and the driver set out for a wonderful excursion out of Addis Ababa and into the country toward the foothills of a distant mountain range. There were indeed lions, including the rarer black mane lions, as well as cheetahs and at least one roving leopard. The open preserve is fenced with cable reinforced wire reaching what looks to be fifteen to twenty feet in height.
I should remind the reader that Addis Ababa is 7,500 feet above sea level (ASL) and the preserve is something above 10,000 feet ASL I had not been bothered at all by the elevation in Addis, but keeping up with the lion ranger on trails often going uphill, I did struggle a little until I got my second wind. I am proud to say that I kept up, but was very glad when we stopped a few minutes here and there to observe animals and birds.
Getting out of the city to pass along rural roads and villages was a treat I did not expect on such a short trip. The donkey and horse are still dependable transport for people or cargo although there were good roads in the hinterland.
My last talk was at St. Joseph’s Academy for boys. I was very much impressed by the high school students, all in uniform and all bright and interested. Upon questioning they expressed interest in careers as architects, engineers, computer programmers and aviation. In listening to them I could not help but think that they represented a renewal of the generation that was lost, murdered actually, by the Communist Red Terror a generation ago just for being educated.
Before I continue I should mention something about the thrill of being driven about the city of Addis Ababa. You take hundreds of cars at any given intersection or roundabout on the six lane avenues, all trying, regardless of any rules of the road, to get across traffic helter skelter, and what you have is similar to the start of the Indianapolis 500 from up to six directions at once. The rule is if you get an inch of your bumper just in front of the fender of the car whose path you are crossing, you take the right of way and move across, stopping a whole lane of traffic while someone else does the same to you. Ethiopians are perhaps the best aggressive drivers in the world. I saw only two intersections with traffic lights but no one paid any attention to them. A ride in a taxi is the equivalent of … well I can’t think of an equivalent experience, and I have been in Paris, Tokyo, and Boston traffic. Yet with all the chaos, I never saw but one minor accident, a lot of scrapped fenders, but no serious collision. I did see a black goat knocked down in an outlying village, but it got up, bleated at the offensive vehicle and rejoined the heard trotting along the side of the road.
All too soon it was time to go. My flight departed Bole International Airport at Addis Ababa at 10:45 PM. We would fly west with night as it moved across the globe. I was booked in one of the twenty-six first class seats aboard the Ethiopian Air Boeing 787. What a marvelous treat! This flight was not a non-stop flight to Dulles as had been the flight over. We would make a stop in Rome, Italy. Can you guess why? The reason is that from Dulles, near sea level, a 787 can take off with a full load of fuel. From Addis Ababa at 7,500 feet ASL it cannot. We had to refuel in Rome.
Just as I had done coming over, I kept my seat’s computer screen on the map and flight tracking selection. From Addis Ababa we tracked NNE across Eritrea and over Sudan parallel to the Red Sea across which lay the whole of the Middle East. We picked up the Nile Valley and crossing over Egypt we sailed out over the Mediterranean Sea. In a gentle arc, we passed the Island of Crete, touched the foot of Greece and picked up the boot of Italy. We landed at Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport in Rome. Everyone stayed on board the hour it took to fuel the plane, take on supplies, receive the flight plan clearance and taxi for takeoff. Refreshments were served including drinks of choice from a fully stocked bar.
We lifted off from Rome to cross Switzerland, a corner of Belgium and France before crossing the Channel to England whereupon we continued north up Scotland to the vicinity of Glasgow where we soared out over the North Atlantic at 40,000 feet. Hours later, somewhere between the coasts of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, we flew out of darkness into dawn. From Canada, in rising sunlight, we continued down the East Coast past New York and Philadelphia to finally land at Dulles International at eight-something in the morning, local time.
Before departing from this magic carpet ride, I must say that I have never had better, more courteous service than with Ethiopian Air Lines, which incidentally was founded in 1945 by African American Col. John C. Robinson using a converted surplus C-47 (Douglas DC-3). Lastly, a word about first class in the 787: all passengers, whether first class or economy, were provided with pillow, blanket and a packet holding sleep socks, eye mask, tooth brush and paste. However, the first class seats, with the push of a button, became full length beds. Heaven! Unlike the trip over in economy class, I slept like a baby for many of the fifteen hours of travel.
Arrival at Dulles did not end my flying that day. Scheduled to board a flight at four forty-five that afternoon for Gulfport, Mississippi, I took a hotel room for several hours to shower, shave and sleep a blessed four hours before dressing in time to clear security at Dulles and board the flight home. Don’t ask … I don’t know the total lapsed time between Addis Ababa and Gulfport. But when, after a layover at Charlotte, N.C., I arrived at 9:30 pm local time, I realized that if I wasn’t dead, it meant that I was still in pretty good shape. Dorothy was right, there is no place like home.
I shall never forget the adventure, the wonderful hosts who sponsored the trip, the exceptional hospitality I received and the courtesy of the handsome Ethiopian people whether guests of the former president or drivers, shop clerks or hotel keepers. They are a wonderful people whose country has suffered much due to war, famine, and a lengthy but failed reign of communist terror. Yes, there is third world poverty and you see beggars on the street, but the Ethiopians are a proud, courageous people in a country that has been Christian since the year 360 AD. They are building their new economy in an open atmosphere of free enterprise seen everywhere from small kiosks along the roadsides to new high rise buildings and international investment. And they have the best coffee in the world.
Thomas E. Simmons
The Man Called Brown Condor
Published by Sky Horse Publishing
Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency