Articles Written By Nathan Deuel
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Letters From Beirut
The Cantina Scene
Returning to America after five years in the Middle East calls for a no-sleep jaunt back to Beirut for drinking, partying, and tying up loose ends.
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Personal Histories
Once Upon a Time in the Middle East
Driving from Lebanon toward Syria, across the Saudi Arabian desert to Dammam, in a taxi among the refugees of Beirut—quickly becomes the Wild West.
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New York, New York
Flood-Tide Below Me
Seeking respite from a life lived in war zones—too many rebel factions, too many gunshots, too many backfiring motorcycles that sounded like gunshots—a family discovers temporary shelter in the outer edges of New York City. And then, the deluge.
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New York, New York
The Boulevard of Broken Bones
Even through the prism of life in the tumultuous Middle East, the U.S. in an election year looks divided, fractious, frustrating. But there’s still a ray of hope—in Queens.
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Letters From Beirut
Jonestown, Naipaul, and Me
A boy asking for money. An editor yelling at him to go away. An author, a rising star, dying young from a heart attack. A group of followers ending their lives at the wish of a single man.
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Inertia
I squirmed in my seat, an American in the Middle East, needing very badly to pee. I was already shaking from cold, and—reaching for my gloves—I...
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
I Didn’t See You There
Then I noticed a fleet of jet-black SUVs, windows tinted, creeping down the block. The old man closed his curtains. Street lights kicked on with a buzzing of white light....
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Tensions Run Through It
At the same time, tensions in Lebanon were escalating. The national army was perhaps the most respected institution in a country still reeling from civil war. Around Beirut, soldiers were...
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Citizen of Somewhere
Consider the falafel sandwich. At under $2, it was my obvious move. But I was sick and sad, and the kids behind the stove looked like 12-year-olds who should have been...
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Good Knives
“That's poop!” Loretta squeals. “On the sidewalk!” I tell her someone will clean it up. But I’m not sure, really—not sure...
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Since the Last War
A grizzled tribe of Middle East correspondents has gathered at the Mayflower Hotel’s wood-paneled bar in Beirut. Wine is poured, mugs of beers are guzzled, and cigarette smoke...
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Husband, Father, Writer, War
Right Into the Fire
My daughter is bawling, red faced, legs held ram-rod straight. Loretta was born in Saudi Arabia, turned two in Turkey, and we’ve just moved to Lebanon. In a...