My parents’ rescue at Entebbe taught me that freedom survives only because people choose to defend it.

On July 4, 1976, as America celebrated its bicentennial, four C-130 aircraft flew blind over the dark waters of the Red Sea and across the Horn of Africa. The pilots took their planes beneath the sweep of commercial radar, their crews relying on basic radio, manual navigation, and raw nerve. The planes were carrying Israeli commandos to a disused airport-terminal building in Uganda, on the shores of Lake Victoria.

Inside that terminal were 106 hostages. Two of them were my American parents.

For nearly a week, Palestinian and German terrorists had held the passengers from a hijacked Air France flight hostage inside the airport terminal, threatening to kill them unless imprisoned terrorists held in five countries were released.... Read More: The Atlantic