The country is full of good, yet overwhelmed, charitable organizations, each of them struggling to raise money to solve all of these problems themselves instead of focusing on their specialty. MPC is an umbrella organization for these nonprofits so that they can focus on the one thing they do best.
I care about the Afghan people. But I also care about our country and the ramifications for America of failure in Afghanistan. I want our troops to come home. We are not the world’s policemen. The blood of our children is too precious. Why should our troops risk their lives on missions for which they were not intended? They do not speak the language and do not know the customs as MPC organizations do. More than 80 percent of the MPC’s workers will be Afghans. Why is that important? Because the terrorists brag that they do not care about winning the war. They brag that when the troops leave, they will come back. Our MPC organizations will not leave because most of them are Afghan based; they’re already home.
Afghanistan is a subject no one ever wants to discuss because it seems so complex and hopeless. This war is half a world away—and yet right next door because, hard though it is to believe, it threatens our country. My ongoing work on behalf of Afghanistan is about stopping terrorism there. I want this for our country, our troops, and the Afghans. We need the friendship and help of the Afghan people to stop the terrorists. We must win the peace in Afghanistan or the terrorists will reassert control there. The repercussions to neighboring Pakistan—and eventually to the United States again—are too terrible to imagine.
If Afghanistan falls back under Taliban control, a fundamentalist Islamic state will have been reestablished on the border of Pakistan—at a time when Pakistan itself is under severe threat from fundamentalist elements within its own borders. The lawlessness of the so-called tribal regions nestled between Pakistan and Afghanistan would spread throughout Pakistan. An Islamic fundamentalist coup in Pakistan would place a fully functional nuclear arsenal in the hands of religious forces intent on the destruction of the United States. These are the stakes. Any misstep or loss of will now exposes my country to inconceivable horrors.
Please do not confuse the Afghan people with the Taliban. Before the Taliban and sharia law came, the Afghans had a viable country—poor but free. It was known as the fruit basket of the Middle East, providing fruit, wheat, and produce. The women were not tortured and enslaved. The girls went to school.
When I speak on Afghanistan, our men and women in uniform often approach me. Sometimes they’ve lost a limb or their sight or had their faces marred. Almost always, they tell me about how they want to go back and help the people of Afghanistan. They really love the Afghan people. Our troops who are over there fighting this war believe in what we’re doing—and they’ve come to believe in the people they’re protecting.
Our young fighting men and women in Afghanistan are exceptional. They give me hope for our country’s future. When I hear about their enormous sacrifices, I want to bring them home for good. But even they temper their desire for home with the desire to succeed in their original mission.
As I write these final words in my memoir, I just received exciting news: our first Marshall Plan Charities operations have begun in Herat Province. Soybeans have arrived for planting, fresh water has been tapped, a school is being built, and a clinic will soon be open in a village dedicated to our holistic development model. American military forces friendly to our effort are enthused. This glowing testimonial was just received from an Afghan provincial leader: “Had Mrs. Herring been able to help us after the Soviets left, our country would not have been poisoned by fanatical ideologues—our people would have been educated and we would have an independent, progressive nation and government.” You can find me at [email protected] and Facebook if you’d like to be a part of this new Genesis story!
I fervently wish that I could write that our troops were already home, no longer needed because the Afghan people are standing on their own, no longer enslaved by religious or terrorist thugs. But I know now that that day is coming. This is God’s plan and I know we’re going to win.
I will use diplomacy and diamonds or whatever charms and strength I have left to fight this last battle. The story of true freedom in Afghanistan is still being written. But change is in the wind, the fragrance of hope is in the air, the stirrings of new life and success are being felt.
The will to win is as strong as the certainty of a new dawn. Pray with us; stay with us. Tomorrow is just around the corner. Right will succeed; just you wait and see.
Afterword
While I was in the midst of writing this book, David Adickes, the famous sculptor, artist, and philosopher, walked into my office and said, “What really interests me about your life is that it’s the story of a woman in Houston, Texas, who recognized the Soviet threat and did something about it. Others saw it, but the Soviets’ formidable strength and the threat of a World War III silenced them into constant negotiations and endless debates. That one woman could arouse Congress and foreign heads of state to acknowledge the threat and to set in motion the defeat of the greatest war machine in history is not only a miracle but a fascinating story that changed the world.”
The essence of this memoir is that small people can make a big difference. The seed of the assurance that we could stop the Soviets and that we must stop them now was planted in me here in Houston, Texas. (God uses small people to do big things—remember David and Goliath?) I had no idea how to stop them; I just knew it had to be done. I was a fifty-year-old widow with few financial assets and many responsibilities. Yet I was determined to do what I could. And if I could do that, imagine what you can do.
They say if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. In my life, I tried hard to tell Him. When His laughter died down, He directed me in ways that I—and a lot of the world—could scarcely imagine. I’m as surprised as anyone at the seemingly fictional turns my life has taken.
I was the only woman at that time to earn the title of “honorary man” in the Muslim world—a title that allowed this little dyslexic girl from Texas to be named a consul to Pakistan at the moment when the tide of the Cold War turned in neighboring Afghanistan—when all I really wanted to do was to sing on Broadway.
The world has been as close as my private jet one day while my children would have starved without the gift of deer meat from friends the next. I’ve been married three times (two times too many) and widowed once (one time too many). I was the first woman to host a daily television show when women were “too dumb” to do it and nobody could spell “Oprah.” I’ve danced with kings and almost died of grief.
The passage of time has allowed me to see how every chapter in my life was built on the one before. And I don’t mean that in the cloying, “we all learn things” wise-grandmother-aphorisms kind of way. I mean that I would not have survived each new act in my life without some brutal lesson or astounding coincidence from the act before.
As I’ve said in these pages, my life has had a pattern. Every ten years, I’ve experienced an overwhelming tragedy. Ten glorious years and—wham!—something ghastly. But each decade’s debacle taught me something that I would desperately need in order to take the next step in life. And each seemingly coincidental event or brush with greatness would later open a door to opportunities that I could scarcely have orchestrated or even dreamed.
And with every step in my life, there has been drama, always drama. My son Beau once told me, “Mother, I used to feel sorry for you for living in a hurricane, but you like living in a hurricane!” Well, I can’t say that’s true, but really strong winds no longer faze me.
The Lord has given me the tools that I would need to climb the mountains of sadness and disappointment that He has placed before me—and to save me as I tumbled down the other side. Everything we learn or experience becomes a tool in our life’s toolbox. I implore you to recognize those in yours. Otherwise, they’ll sit uselessly in the box as you continue to make the same life mistakes—all for the lack of the rig
ht tool.
This was not meant to be a how-to book. The libraries are full of those. This is a book about what not to do. I may have been blessed to have achieved a few things in my life, but surely there are less painful ways to succeed. So give this book to your children and say firmly, “Read this book. Don’t do a thing in it and you’ll be fine. Well, okay, maybe a few things.”
As someone who’s lived a bit of history and (they say) made some along the way, I’m fascinated and frustrated by the world’s habit of repeating some of its worst mistakes. I was seated next to Henry Kissinger at a dinner at the Iranian embassy and he offered me an important insight.
Henry was secretary of state at the time—witty, sophisticated and brilliant—and everyone wanted to hear what he had to say about anything. He told me that one reason people don’t heed the lessons of history is that they don’t understand the eras that preceded their own.
For instance, if you’ve lived all of your life since the collapse of the Soviet Union, it’s hard to understand the Cold War or what all the fuss was about in Charlie Wilson’s War. And if you don’t understand why Afghanistan was a tipping point in the greatest threat against America in the 1980s, you probably won’t understand why Afghanistan is the tipping point in the greatest threat against America today.
So I started to write about the eras I’ve lived through in the hopes that you would understand perceptions at those times to better cope with whatever you face today. Too often we use today’s thinking to analyze history and are horrified at our country’s past poor judgment. But the times and knowledge were different then—and will be different in the future. Only people remain the same, doing the same things over and over—just in different clothes. (And more often than not, it’s all about power and money.)
So I’ve told you the story of my life and the history I’ve lived through until now. You don’t want to read the dry statistics so well covered elsewhere. People live history, and the decisions they make are sometimes as much about whom they love (and what they wear) as they are about war and peace. This, then, was intended to be a romp through history, a gossipy memo about people, places, and things.
I talked with you like a friend. I strayed, like friends do when they talk. When a thought occured to me, I told you a story. Nobody sits down with a friend and tells them their whole life without stopping, right? You’d quickly have a phone call to take or would use me as a sleeping pill.
At the end of the tales of men and marriage, of royal dinners and yachts, of exotic parties and congressional intrigue, I’m at war again in Afghanistan. As much as I love the Afghan people and as dedicated as I am to improving their lives, I’m working again in that corner of the world to save America from terrorism. My new war is for my children and grandchildren—and for yours.
And I’ll make mistakes, as I have before. I try to be good and to obey the rules, but I’ve often failed. If you’ve stumbled too, take heart! Walk with the Lord and He’ll pick you up as He’s done with me. If you see yourself on these pages, use my disappointments and failures to avoid them in your own life.
I’ve learned not to worry if people laugh at me for my mistakes. I laugh with them. If you can laugh at yourself, your friends will cheer you. And when you admit your mistakes, you disarm your enemies.
Maybe you can look at my life and learn.
God looks at my life and laughs!
Permissions
Shelby Hodge, “Dinner Abuzz over Film Role,” Houston Chronicle (October 13, 2003), section D. Reprinted by permission.
Charlie Wilson’s War feature film, still photo. Courtesy of Universal Studios Licensing LLC.
Review of Charlie Wilson’s War: The Extraordinary Story of the Largest Covert Operation in History, Publishers Weekly (May 26, 2003). Reprint by permission.
Cover image and page snapshot from Charlie Wilson’s War, copyright © 2003 by George Crile. Used by permission of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Shelby Hodge, “Cross-Century Garb Highlights Sixth Annual Plantation Ball,” Houston Chronicle. Reprinted by permission.
“Trotter Great-Great-Granddaughter Returns to Ancestoral…” Reprinted by permission of the Clarke County Tribune, Quitman, MS.
River Oaks Country Club Estates, Heritage Society Map Collection MC012, Harris County Archives, Houston, Texas 77002.
Cover of H Texas (Fall 2009), featuring Warner Roberts, “25 Most Beautiful.” Reprinted by permission of Gittings Photography, copyright H Texas magazine.
Bill Roberts, “That Was the Party That Was,” Ultra (November 1985). Thank you to a dear friend and great author, Bill Roberts, and his family, Bill III, Hal, and Kirk, for his incomparable article about the Roman party. This is my memorial to him.
Beverly Maurice, “Once in a Great While, a Fairy Tale Comes True,” Houston Chronicle (May 31, 1964). Copyright 1964 Houston Chronicle Publishing Company. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.
KHOU TV 11, advertising art. Reprinted by permission of KHOU 11, Houston, TX.
The Joanne King Show, advertising art. Reprinted by permission of KPRC-TV, Houston, TX.
Nora Krisch Shire, “Live from Houston,” Tempo. Reprinted by permission.
Anne Hodges, “Venice Revisited,” from “TV Feature Page: Jack Benny Enjoys Freedom from TV Series,” Houston Chronicle. Reprinted by permission.
Maxine Mesinger, excerpt from column, Houston Chronicle (February 24, 1972). Reprinted by permission.
Television listing for “Joanne King’s Venice Special,” Houston Chronicle (November 2, 1965), section 2, page 7. Reprinted by permission.
Anne Cooper, “TV Scene: Joanne King Leaving Noon Show,” Houston Chronicle (December 27, 1972), section 6, page 8. Reprinted by permission.
Ron Stone letter to Joanne King Herring, December 20, 1972. Reprinted with permission from the estate of Ron Stone.
Ed Swinney, “The King Who Was Queen,” Houston Chronicle (March 3, 1972). Reprinted by permission.
Five photos by Bill Stites, as published in “Joanne Herring: The Queen of Texas.” Reprinted by permission of Wm. Stites.
Maxine Mesinger, excerpt from column, Houston Chronicle (May 19, 1972). Reprinted by permission.
Beverly Maurice, “There’ll be Spanish Fun for Everyone,” Houston Chronicle (1966). Reprinted by permission.
Marge Crumbaker, “Rolling Out the Red Carpet for Royalty,” Tempo (November 10, 1968). Reprinted by permission.
Maxine Mesinger, “People by Maxine,” Houston Chronicle (February 25, 1982). Reprinted by permission.
Maxine Mesinger, “Big City Beat,” Houston Chronicle (October 14, 1986). Reprinted by permission.
Suzy Says column, “Joanne Rounds Up ‘Tout’ Paris,” Houston Chronicle (July 26, 1974). Reprinted by permission.
Susan Watters, “Filming Another French Connection,” Women’s Wear Daily (August 16,1976), page 14. (Including photos.) Reprinted by permission of Susan Watters.
“She Snoops to Conquer,” Houston Chronicle (August 30, 1972). Reprinted by permission.
Maxine Mesinger, “Have Tongue, Will Tattle,” “Friday Flashes,” “Houston Natural Gas Prexy,” “Memos from Max,” and “Count Alain de Taillach, who has homes in Paris…,” Houston Chronicle. Reprinted by permission.
“Partyline: Suzy Reports from New York,” Houston Chronicle. Reprinted by permission.
Eugenia Sheppard, “Around the Town,” New York Post (May 13, 1976). Reprinted by permission.
“84 or No, Rose Kennedy Cuts a Mean Dance Beat,” Houston Chronicle (March 16, 1975). Reprinted by permission.
Betty Beale, “Benefit Premiere,” Victoria Advocate (March 16, 1975). Reprinted by permission.
Judy Lunn, “Would-Be Hosts Scrap for Honor,” Houston Post. Reprinted by permission.
Susan Watters, “The Saga Continues,” Eyeview, from Women’s Wear Daily (December 9, 1982), page 28. (Including a photo of Joanne Herring by Guy Delort.) Reprinted by permission of Susan Watters.
Betty Beale, “Word
from Washington,” from Washington Star (January 27, 1980). Reprinted by permission.
“Joanne Herring’s List of Honors,” Houston Chronicle (December 5, 1979), section 4, page 4. Reprinted by permission.
Amy Penn, “Around the Town,” New York Post (January 21, 1985). Reprinted by permission.
P. 158 Photo of Eva Gabor, Gen. Paul X. Kelley, Barbara Kelley, and Joanne Herring. Reprinted by permission of Bill Cunningham.
France-Michele Adler, “Parties Where the Guests Change with the Courses,” New York Post (July 22, 1984). Reprinted by permission.
“Fan” quote, W (September 21–28, 1984). Reprinted by permission of Condé Nast.
Susan Watters, Eye… Eye… Eye… column from Women’s Wear Daily (May 9, 1977), page 4. (Including a photo of King Hussein, Joanne Herring, Joan Schnitzer, and Luciana Avedon.) Reprinted by permission of Susan Watters.
Photograph of Joanne and Bob Herring, Fortune. ©1980 Bob Gomel.
Excerpt from “The Right Honorable Businessman,” from Fortune magazine, May 19, 1980 © 1980 Time Inc. Used under license. Fortune magazine and Time Inc. are not affiliated with, and do not endorse, products or services of Licensee.
Marge Crumbaker, “Moroccan Royalty to Sit In on ‘Desert Song,’ ” Houston Post, (October 15, 1986). Reprinted by permission.
Eugenia Sheppard, “Around the Town,” New York Post (May 28, 1982). Reprinted by permission.
Liz Smith, People, New York Daily News (May 23, 1982). © Tribune Media Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted with permission.
Sandy Sheehy, “Honorary Consul,” Ultra Magazine (February 1986). Reprinted by permission of Sandy Sheehy, author of Texas Big Rich and Connecting: The Enduring Power of Female Friendship.
Diplomacy and Diamonds Page 23