Hostages Lebanon

Freedom may prove to be emotionally difficult in the months and years to come for Terry A. Anderson and the rest of the former American hostages, all of whom can now begin the long process of rebuilding shattered lives. Once the cameras have stopped recording and well-wishers have stopped calling, they must deal with spouses who have learned to live without them, children who have grown older and a world that has changed in numerous ways.

Vowing to forgive the Muslim fanatics who kept him chained like an animal for more than 6 1/2 years in the dank cellars of a country he still hasn't stopped loving, journalist Terry A. Anderson wept Friday as he at last began to tell his story. He told of faith, courage and the will to survive. But most of all, his was a story about the human spirit and the unfathomable bond that forms between strangers who come to rely on each other for their very sanity.

During his nearly seven years of captivity, Terry A. Anderson built a dairy farm in his head--"I worked out the economics, the staffing, how much milk is selling for, what's the support price, how many cows can you support with how many acres and all that kind of stuff"--and engaged in other thought games just to survive. He fantasized at times about running a newspaper and recalled memories from his childhood over and over.

U.S. intelligence agencies knew where American hostages were being held in Lebanon at least three times during the last seven years, but never had enough detailed information to make a rescue mission feasible, current and former officials said Thursday. Hostages were spotted at times in an apartment building in Beirut, in a military barracks in eastern Lebanon's Bekaa Valley and near the southern city of Tyre, the officials said.

Thursday may have dawned dull and gray in this old German spa town, but for newly released hostage Terry A. Anderson, it was the start of a sweet new life--his first full day of freedom in more than 6 1/2 years. In an atmosphere filled with relief and celebration, the families of the last three American hostages to be freed in the Mideast tasted the simplest of joys that no money can buy.

Jesse (Jon) Turner has some gentle words for Terry Anderson to remember in the days that follow the newly released hostage's first meeting with the daughter he had never known. "Go slow," Turner said. "Don't expect too much too soon. You can't expect her to go 'Oh, Daddy! Daddy!' as if you'd just come back from the store. Let her approach you. Don't rush her. It takes time." Turner, who returned to his Boise, Ida.

My friend Terry Anderson is coming home, wherever home is, whatever shape he's in. He spent 2,455 days imprisoned by terrorists who kidnaped him because of who he is, not for anything he did. Like so many of the people he wrote about over the years, he was an innocent victim. When I watched him on TV Wednesday from Damascus, with the broken eyeglasses and the battered grin, I was amazed that he still had a sense of humor.

Some have bounced back to resume normal lives, with no apparent lingering aftereffects from their ordeal as hostages. Others remain troubled or angry over their experiences in captivity. And some are still under medical or psychological care. In the years since their release, some have hit the lecture circuit, written books, or launched personal campaigns on behalf of their imprisoned "brothers." Others have chosen to avoid publicity and return to the solitude of work, family and friends.

The release Wednesday of the last American hostage, journalist Terry A. Anderson, leaves German aid workers Heinrich Streubig and Thomas Kemptner as the only known remaining Western hostages still held in Lebanon. The Germans, who are believed to be still alive, have been virtually forgotten by the German public and news media since they were seized 2 1/2 years ago. But the sudden release of the three Americans has raised awareness about them.