The morning was crisp. Icicles hung from drainpipes like daggers. The city was occupied by fear - the evening before, for the first time during the war, it had been bombed. Despite that, my mother insisted nothing must stop me from going to school. It was Feb. 1, 1987, and I was 280 miles northwest of Tehran, in Mianeh.The gate to the elementary school was on the main street.