I saw in the newspaper that famous author and journalist Oriana Fallaci died. She was 77. I knew her briefly in 1968 in Vietnam. We were both residents at a press camp near Pleiku. She was the sole female of some 50 residents. There was no female toilet facility. Consequently, camp management had a system for clearing the six-hole “latrine” when Oriana wanted to use it. “Clear the latrine” and “Latrine all clear” would ring out over the loudspeaker from time to time.

One evening I found myself sitting next to Oriana for dinner. I had no idea at the time that she was “internationally famous” or “glamorous.” We had a pleasant discussion with me enjoying her beauty and Italian accent and she my Texas twang. Her provocative, fearless, mostly humorous remarks and my frankness soon had us exchanging all sorts of insights. Then she delivered this unforgettable gem:

“You American men are so overly conditioned to be polite to women that it is easy for me to have great fun at your expense.”

“How so”? I asked.

“Every morning when I feel wicked when I wake up, I go directly to the latrine without notice, pull open the door and walk in. All the polite American men sitting there immediately stand up in respect and complete embarrassment.”

“I love to do that,” she said.

I laughed at her audacity.

Two mornings later, I was sitting in the latrine along with 4 others when the outside door was jerked open and in walked Oriana.

I, along with the others, quickly stood up, looking desperately embarrassed. 

All dictators and other political pretenders tried to avoid interviews with Oriana. She left all of them naked with her penetrating questions and fearless reporting.

She stood tall. The world will miss her.

This letter to the editor was published in the Honolulu Star-Bulletin on September 25, 2006.