Ali on Rush

I was a new engineer at a consulting firm in a Midwestern city. I joined them in 1991. I became good friends with an engineer named Ali, an immigrant from Turkey and a damn good engineer.

Ali had a curious habit. He would pack his lunch from home. At lunchtime, he would go sit in his car and listen to the radio. One of the guys mentioned it. It was a mystery in the office. Ali was not listening to music. They wondered if he was listening to a Turkish broadcast, but nobody had wanted to probe about what Ali was listening to.... [Read More]

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Ali at the P.O.

Ali is a damn good engineer. He is a Turkish immigrant. While he was raising a family he could only afford to go home every other year for a visit. He would send the wife and kids over for three or four weeks during summer vacation. He would go join them for the second half of the time, so he could fly back together with them. A few days after he returned from one of those trips, I got a chance to ask him about the trip. He told me a few interesting things. Then, about a month later, we had one of our delightful political discussions, and it prompted him to tell me a story.

I had asked if he would want to retire back to Turkey some day. He snorted. “No.”... [Read More]

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