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IRAQ: A night of explosions in Baghdad

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Here in Baghdad as a visiting correspondent, I was preparing for a night out with ‘the boys,’ the Iraqi translators at the Times’ bureau who have become my dear friends over the years.

Three or maybe four of us were gonna hit the town Thursday night, drive around the Karada district, visit some tea shops, maybe even find a little place to grab a beer.

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Just the night before, the director of our office and I had cruised the same area. I was trying to persuade him that Baghdad had become safer, that we could go out a little more often, even at night.

The lights shined brightly. The evening cool was calming. We sipped tea at a coffee shop, even conducted an interview. The streets were filled with families enjoying the night.

This was on a Wednesday. We could tell it would be totally rocking on a Thursday night, the start of the Muslim weekend. I looked forward to my little trip.

I figured we’d leave about 7 p.m., after I got some work done. I even planned to pitch a quick story about it: finally Baghdad gets its groove back.

The news of the bombs came just before 7 p.m. At first, we heard only three killed. Still, our office manager glared at me. ‘You see?’ his eyes said. ‘It’s still not safe.’

As the body count rose and and the eyewitness accounts of the devious bombings rolled in, I grew grateful that we hadn’t been out there caught in the mess, instead spending another night working at my desk alone, stuck in my room in our well-protected compound.

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On the television came reports of the attack on the Israeli seminary, the bombing of the Times Square recruiting station and another bomb scare at UC Davis.

At least I know I’m not the only one hemmed in by fear and violence.

Borzou Daragahi in Baghdad

Mahmoud al-Badri /Associated Press

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