First off, I'm Lebanese and lived in various Arab countries until my family came to the US in 1985. I was 10 and my dad got a work assignment that required us to move. This event happened on the last day before our trip to the US. We had about 25 family members over for a party complete with wonderful Lebanese food, drink and good times. My brother, cousins and I went to bed early as the grown-ups stayed up to do their thing. Fast forward a couple hours and I hear a loud explosion. It was like deep thunder. I open my eyes and see my mom running into the room telling my brother and I to get up and follow her. I was on the top bunk of a bunk bed so I jumped off and we followed her. The explosions continued and you could see flashes of light. We stood at the top of some outdoor stairs (that led to a home below owned by my uncle) with both my parents and my brother and I could see the explosions and hear the haunting whistles of missiles/bombs/whatever before they exploded, primarily down the mountain and getting closer/louder. My parents explained that we would wait until a bomb exploded and run down immediately thereafter, presumably as their would be a few seconds before explosions. My mom and I were to go down first. We heard an explosions and she yelled to go. We ran together as fast as we could as she held my hand. She tripped and stumbled as I was running and I got ahead of her. I stopped and reached back and held hands again and ran down the steps and into the home below. My dad and my brother followed. All 25 of us sat in the bathroom and hallway in the middle of the downstairs home so there would be protection from the shelling. We sat there all night watching the inside of the home light up as bombs exploded around it. Shrapnel shattered our window and made holes in the walls in the living room next door. The adults placed mattresses and furniture against the walls to protect us from the shrapnel. We stayed down there for 3 days as the shelling continued. The airport was closed and unusable so we couldn't get out even when there were breaks in the shelling. My father used some connections to secure a spot on cruise ship that was being used for the well-connected to evacuate the country. I'll never forget the boat trip to cypress, landing in the good 'ole USA and showing my passport at the airport. Then getting a ride through Virginia to our temporary, then permanent new home as Americans (after the green card process). How did this experience change me? Perspective. There's rarely a problem that you face or fret over that is larger than the millions of people living with real problems. Problems like safety, illness, whatever. I now have a family and cushy executive job. I'm told my biggest strength is to stay calm under pressure. No shit:)