A red oak tree a few miles down the road from Terry A. Anderson's hometown was just a sapling when Monica Stocum tied a yellow ribbon around it soon after he was abducted in Lebanon on March 16, 1985. Now, the tree has grown enough to burst the ribbon, engulfing parts of it in the tree's new growth. The one-time sapling will soon be big enough to shelter a picnic. ``My God, a tree grows slowly and look at how it has grown,'' Stocum said. Anderson is still a hostage, held captive longer than any other Westerner in Lebanon. But in this town of about 17,000 people, Stocum and hundreds like her are keeping his memory alive, even though they have never met him. An informal group organizes ceremonies to commemorate Anderson's birthdays and the anniversaries of his kidnapping. On Friday, the fifth anniversary of his abduction from the streets of Beirut, they will attend services and fast for 24 hours as a gesture of spirituality and support. Hometown solidarity and admiration for the efforts of Anderson's sister, Peggy Say, to free all the Western hostages in Lebanon have spurred those efforts, said Anne Zickl, a member of the group. ``Terry Anderson graduated from Batavia High School. So did my mother and father and I. So did my four kids. So you have a connection right there,'' said Mrs. Zickl. ``Plus, I think Americans don't like injustice.'' Stocum moved to nearby Le Roy 15 years after Anderson left the area, but said the hometown tie was important to her as well. ``I probably wouldn't know him if I fell over him in the street, even with the pictures,'' she said. ``It just seems like we should be more alert because he's one of us.'' Anderson left Batavia, in dairy country 40 miles east of Buffalo, in 1965 to join the Marines. He went on to a career in journalism that took him, as chief Middle East correspondent for The Associated Press, to Lebanon. His father, Glenn R. Anderson, and brother, Glenn Richard Jr., remained here, and after Terry was kidnapped Say moved back to be with them, said Penny Anderson, a sister-in-law. The father and brother have since died. ``She was always the strong one of the family,'' Mrs. Anderson said. Since then, Say has been the most persistent and outspoken advocate of her brother's cause. Her efforts drew admiration and offers of help locally, from longtime friends like Marsha Barton and strangers such as Mrs. Zickl. They now form a support team for Say, who has moved to Kentucky but continues to travel the world to press for her brother's freedom. Working from Mrs. Zickl's dining room _ her family has not eaten there in 1{ years _ they publish newsletters, collect Valentine's Day and Christmas cards for Anderson and field inquiries from reporters from around the world. ``We just function here to give Peggy as much support as we can, because Peggy is the one who can do the most for the hostages,'' Mrs. Zickl said. There have been more than enough dashed hopes, and as they plan for the fifth anniversary of Anderson's capture, they find themselves trying to stifle excitement over Iran's recently softened stance on the hostage issue. ``My head is saying, `Now, don't get excited. We've heard all this before,''' Mrs. Anderson said. ``My heart says he's coming home. I woke up Monday morning absolutely positive he's coming home.'' Friday's fast, they hope, will give the kidnappers one more nudge toward that goal. ``I think that people in other countries find Americans very arrogant and very self-indulgent,'' Mrs. Zickl said. ``For them to know that Americans are fasting, not on their own behalf but for peace and freedom in the Middle East, I think they'll find that very moving.''
