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I saw the terrifying attack on Salman Rushdie




Friday, August 12, 10:40 a.m. I park my bike in a gravel patch near the Chautauqua Amphitheater, wedging a rock beneath the kickstand so it will not fall. The woman who checks my ticket at the gate is accompanied today by a state trooper and a police dog -- not usual for this rural arts community, but warranted: today's speaker, Salman Rushdie, has lived under threat since his book, "The Satanic Verses," was published over three decades ago. I zigzag my way down steep stairs to the floor, noticing another trooper standing guard.



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