Reza Khaleghian, 70, stormed through the door of Naab Cafe on Saturday morning, phone to his ear, fist in the air, shouting the news in Farsi to anyone listening: “Khamenei is dead!”
Soon, President Trump will confirm the death of Iran’s supreme leader in a historic attack by the United States and Israel. A sea of flag-waving revelers would later fill Wilshire Boulevard and Veteran Avenue.
But as bombs fell 7,500 miles away in Tehran, members of the Iranian American community in West LA spent Saturday celebrating a day others have been waiting nearly a century for.
“This is the best day we could have ever imagined,” said Beha Pangrazio, 35. She immigrated to Tehran 10 years ago and brought her husband, baby and mother to celebrate in Westwood, the heart of LA’s Iranian diaspora. “I hope the regime will change, the shah will return home and we will have a glorious future for Iran.”
The Greater Los Angeles area is home to many people of Iranian descent outside of Iran. Since the Islamic Revolution in 1979, it has served as the capital of exiles. In 2019, more than half of Iranian immigrants to the US lived in California, with 29% — about 140,000 people — living in Los Angeles County alone, according to the Migration Policy Institute.
Many settled in and around Westwood, earning the area the nickname “Tehrangeles.”
When news spread on social media about a large protest planned to take place later in the day in support of the strikes, people gathered in shops and restaurants in the neighborhood to celebrate the news.
Car horns blared and Persian music wafted through the open windows. A Tesla Cybertruck decorated with two large flags of the Imperial State of Iran, a monarchy overthrown in 1979, sped down Veteran Avenue; a Mercedes with the same flag waving in the open sunroof turned in the opposite direction. Phones rang with endless texts from friends and relatives watching the news around the world.
“You have to understand that we were raised to prepare for this day,” said Ryan Abrams, 34, as he and his wife, Ashley Abrams, 32, walked the neighborhood with their dog.
He wore the lion and sun flag of the shah of Iran tied like a cap on his shoulders; he wore an Israeli flag of the same size next to him. Both their Iranian Jewish families immigrated in 1979 to Los Angeles.
He said: “All our lives we have had to examine who we are, coming from Persian and Jewish backgrounds. “Today we see one step forward.”
Assal Pahlevan raises the historic Iranian lion and sun flag during Saturday’s meeting at Westwood.
Back at Naab Cafe, where signs and portraits of Iran’s exiled Prince Reza Pahlavi hung from the windows facing Westwood Boulevard, Khaleghian and a growing group of friends gathered at outdoor tables, each of them jumping from their seats to greet the newcomer with hugs and long-lived exclamations.
“I am 70 years old. This is the best time, ever, of my life. The freedom of my country. The best day of my life,” Khaleghian said. “I love Trump! I want to make sure you know that.”
Their waiter Amir, who chose not to reveal his last name, carried packaged peach and pineapple hookahs and tall glasses of squeezed watermelon juice from the cafe’s kitchen to the table.
The 37-year-old Tehran native took to the streets during the 2009 Green Revolution and was “delighted” by news of the US invasion, although he admitted the future was uncertain.
“On the other hand, he hates them all so much that he wants them all dead,” he said of the regime. “On the other hand – war. Things can go wrong in war. But I and many people think that war is better than what is happening.”
At the table, Bob (he refused to give his last name) let loose a lot of celebration – he said that he had placed a bet in the past on the operating system of the market predicting Kalshi that Khamenei would be dead by the end of February and he was about to collect. Phones buzzed on the tabletop with constant texts. Khaleghian reached for a plastic hookah pipe; his friend snatched it from his hand, reminding him of his cardiologist’s advice.
The five men, all of whom emigrated decades ago from Tehran, argued over who had correctly predicted that Trump would follow through on his threats to attack Iran and who was skeptical. Others said they were surprised that their US-born older children, who had never set foot in Iran, seemed as happy about the news as they were.
They were all planning to return as soon as possible to a country they had not seen since they left decades before. “Next summer, I’m not going to Italy, I’m going to Iran,” Khaleghian said, banging on the table for emphasis. “God willing.”
Hundreds gathered and celebrated in Westwood on Saturday after the news of the airstrikes in Iran.
“You guys are very optimistic,” said Paul Daneshrad, 59. “The most important question is, does this lead to meaningful change?” His friends groaned and tried to calm him down; he waved at them.
“The people are not armed, so unless the army, or part of the army, decides to support the people, there will be 50 people who take the place of each leader,” he said.
No one knows what tomorrow will bring, said Sepehr, 58, who declined to give his last name. He held the kingdom for almost a century; it was too soon to know how much blood its discharge might contain.
But Persian culture has continued for more than 3,000 years, he said. In that context, what was just 47 years? “A nightmare,” he said with a laugh.
