Kuwait Comes to Martinsville

Growing up in Martinsville, Indiana, I thought our life was fairly ordinary. We were a close-knit family in a small town where everybody seemed to know everybody. My grandmother, Harriet Nutter, worked as an interior decorator at Kittle’s Furniture in Indianapolis. To me, that simply meant she had good taste and an eye for detail. I had no idea at the time that her gift for hospitality and friendship would open a window to the wider world for our entire family.

Around 1980, a couple from Kuwait walked into Kittle’s looking for furniture. Their names were Dr. Khaled Al-Nassar and his wife. What began as a professional interaction soon grew into a genuine friendship. My grandmother had a natural warmth about her. She didn’t just sell people sofas and dining tables; she connected with them. Before long, she had invited the Al-Nassar family down to Martinsville for dinner.

Looking back, it still amazes me. In a small Indiana town in the early 1980s, our extended family gathered around the table with a family from Kuwait. There were no grand speeches about cultural exchange or global understanding. There was simply food, conversation, and laughter. I remember how kind they were, how curious we all were about one another, and how natural it felt despite the miles and cultural differences between us. Over the next 10 years, the al-Nassar family visited us several times.

One of Dr. Al-Nassar’s daughters even attended Martinsville High School for a day with my sister, Mimi Keller Boyd. For Mimi, it was probably an exciting change of routine. For the rest of us, it was a glimpse into how big the world truly was. Those moments felt special, but in a child’s mind, they were simply part of the story of our family.

Then, in 1990, the world changed.

In October of 1990, after Iraq invaded Kuwait, Dr. Al-Nassar provided significant witness testimony before the United States Congress regarding atrocities committed during the occupation. His video testimony is still available to view on CSPAN.  I remember realizing that this was the same man who had once sat at our dinner table in Martinsville. The same father whose children had laughed with us and posed for pictures in our living room. The conflict that dominated headlines and nightly news broadcasts was no longer distant. It was personal. During their last visit, I’ll never forget how grateful they were to the United States for coming to Kuwait’s rescue. Over the years, I've searched for any trace of the al-Nassar family, hoping to reconnect, but I've found nothing.

As I look back now, I see how unique and fortunate we were. In a small town in Indiana, we were given a firsthand connection to people whose lives would soon be caught in a major world event. We were reminded that history is not just something that happens in faraway capitals or on television screens. It happens to families. It happens to friends.

My grandmother probably never imagined that inviting customers to dinner would one day connect her family to a pivotal moment in international history. But that was Harriet Nutter. She believed in welcoming people in. Because of her, I learned early on that the world is both larger and smaller than we think.

And I remain grateful for that lesson.