A friend my senior year in high school (1979-80, in Ogden Utah) was Iranian.
His father was a Colonel in the IrAF, and he had brought his family with him when he came to Hill AFB, Utah to command the training of IrAF F-4 pilots. After the revolution they asked for, and were granted, political asylum.
His father was upset that he had me drive him home from school one day, as the family was keeping a very low profile (almost "hiding") in case the revolutionaries were looking for them. It was only the facts that we had met in JROTC (I was his son's Platoon Commander), and that my father was police, that made me barely acceptable as a friend.