Nhân ngày cuối năm 2011, ngoảnh lại nhìn thời gian đi qua và muốn ghi lại cùng chia sẻ với các bạn các em một kỷ niệm vàng của tôi năm 2011. Tôi ở đây đã được 36 năm, thời gian dài hơn quãng đời ở miền nam Vn chỉ có 20 năm, và thời niên thiếu ở ngoải bắc 13 năm Nhớ lại ngày rời VN trong những ngày cuối tháng 4 dầu sôi lủa bỏng, được một người Mỹ đưa cả gia đình đi,rồi dòng đời trôi qua, mỗi người đi một đường để rồi 36 năm sau gặp lai.. Thật là một kỳ diệu khó tin. Xin mời cả nhà hãy cũng chia sẻ với tôi một kỷ niệm vàng...một chút quà xuân 2012 cho tất cả. Bài này viết bằng tiếng Anh vì tôi có gửi cho George Turner, người ân nhân gặp lại sau 36 năm biết bao nhiêu nước chảy qua cầu ....Bài này gồm 2 phần, phần 1 do tôi viết, phần 2 là của con gái Châu Lê viết lúc 13 tuổi (tuổi cháu Quyên bây giờ) đang học Junior High.
Part I: Adventure to Freedom 1975
(written by Thu Lê)
The month of April 1975 was a real nightmare with us frantically trying to find a lead to get out of Saigon. I felt overwhelmed with anxiety, worries and fright, thinking about two things that might put us in jeopardy upon the coming of the Communists: First, we all had once fled south to Saigon from Hanoi and Haiphong in 1954 when the Communists took over and when the country was divided into two. Secondly, I had been working for the USAID Staff Development Center (teaching English to Vietnamese public officials before their departure to U.S. to be trained in their field) in Saigon for a while then. I was so scared, looking around the bustling streets jammed with people running back and forth, each person seemed bewildered but boiled with anxiety inside.
I haven’t found any source of help as to how my family of 4 could go anywhere when I got the news from USAID that they were planning to evacuate all USAID employees and families and each employee was allowed to have 2 sets of parents (tứ thân phụ mẫu)_mine and my husband’s to go with us. It was also suggested that we should find a good location (easy to find) to stay with family and just waited since it could be in the middle of the night when they would come and pick us up. Đạt and I then decided to pick up our meager belongings, left our home to join his parents whose home was “easier to find” (just across from Vinh Nghiem Buddhist Temple on Cong Ly Street ) so they could go with us and with the understanding that my parents ,who were living not too far away, could join us with a phone call when the time would come.
At noon time on April 26, 1975, I just came back home from USAID office to find a tall, slender, young American standing at the gate. Since I was the only one at home speaking English at the time, I walked up to him. This young gentleman gave me a little note written by my husband’s brother CẢNH. It scribbled, “I met this American at the airport and saw that he has been helping people out with little or no money. So you both can just follow him.” (Con gặp ông Mỹ này ở phi trường, thấy ông giúp đưa người đi và chắc là không lấy tiền nhiều. Vậy cậu mơ cứ theo ông ấy..) My heart was thumping hard. Looking at him with Canh’s note in my hand, I fished,
“ You can only take my parents? My family of 4 are here and my sister-in-law’s family is not too far from here either. Can you take us all? Can you wait here for some minutes?”
Not a minute of hesitation, he nodded and said it’s OK without even asked how many people we had altogether. Extremely delighted, I walked him upstairs, telling my in-laws what’s happening and reaching the phone to call BÌNH SƠN, my sister-in-law who was still at work at the National Bank of VN. I then called my parents and learned that they already had another lead and due to go very soon. While my husband Đạt and his parents were rushing to collect their belongings, I sat there chatting with GEORGE TURNER (as my in-laws said “try to keep him company for fear he would not be patient enough to wait for the whole gang to get rounded up..!” So, I was restless and nervous like I was in a hot seat, dazed but kept George’s company for more than 1 hour, not remembering much of our conversation, just imprinted on my mind the image of a slender, goodlooking, calm, and “quiet American”!
Finally the whole gang of 13 people (our 2 parents + 4 of us ĐẠT THU CHÂU ĐIỀN+ BÌNH SƠN’s family of 7) got into a big car that I was told belonged to a Congressman (Nguyễn văn Bảy?) to get through a checkpoint with no paper whatsoever! I remember seeing Binh Sơn’s husband XUÂN_ a high ranking military man_ sitting in the car with his head down avoiding the military police’s eyes when the car stopped at checkpoint, for fear of being spotted and might be detained.
We met CẢNH at the airport, not boarding the plane yet. CẢNH’s hands were shaking terribly, almost in tears to unbelievably see the whole clan made it here with George. Another family that George was helping joined us there and I went with George everywhere that whole day to secure necessary papers for both groups to finally board the military cargo plane out. Although anxious and worried-sick in the chaotic atmostphere at DAO headquarters full of people, long lines waiting, lying all around in makeshift sleeping quarters, I couldn’t help smiling when I saw George listed the names of both groups on the same AFFIDAVIT (I guessed about 25 people together). We had different last names supposedly all related to each other and/or to George by blood, kinship, and marriage.. So we came up with such relations as stepbrother, half sister, brother-in-law,etc. besides immediate family members and older generations…
We were waiting at the DAO bowling alley until late that Wednesday night, April 26. George told me he could help more people and he preferred helping educated ones out and if I knew anybody then give him their addresses. So I got in line to make a telephone call to check on my family. Nobody answered the phone and I was innocently convinced that they had left (It turned out they didn’t; they just went to another place for the night to avoid VC shelling, and were left behind when the plan they had made in the morning fell through). Later, each time thinking back, I felt so sorry and stupid not giving George my parents’ address after the failed phone call just in case. I remembered asking George if we owed him anything, and he said , “ No. You can’t buy us Americans.” And I felt as if our family had won a lottery and this was an exceptional man….
That was the last time I saw George. We didn’t get on the cargo plane until the following morning. The plane had no separate seats for each. We all squeezed in sitting on the floor of the plane and it was hard for me to get around to reach my parents-in-law to give them some water. Our flight out first stopped in Grande Island, Subic Bay- an American military base, then Clark and finally Guam in the Pacific Ocean.
We didn’t know much about our benefactor George. He didn’t expect anything from us then. We gathered he stayed around to help more people out and later we heard that he lived in northern California. We made a couple of attempts to find him in northern CA but failed. Later, through CẢNH, we know that George was working for RMK (a contruction company in Vietnam), had some Vietnamese friends who were Canh’s patients at his medical office , therefore got to know Canh. He came to Vietnam in 1968, stayed some years and went back to California working for SRI International. In 1975, he went back to VN to take his friends out and went looking for Canh and happened to meet Canh at TSN airport. That’s how we all got out of VN miraculously!
“Too much water going under the bridge”, believe it or not, after 36 years later, one day in August 2011, CANH (living in Australia) emailed us saying he had found George Turner. What a miracle! George had an Australian friend who also knew CANH and who last year went back to Melbourne and they made connections. Life is so full of wonderful things! We never thought we will have crossed each other’s path again. George, who is now 70 years old, has been living comfortably in South VN for 16 years now, enjoying his golden years on this land with little or no intention of going back to the states. At the time we reconnected, our daughter Châu and husband Thanh and little Nicole were going to Saigon. Therefore they had a chance to meet George in a restaurant to reminisce all that time lost. (Enclosed are some most recent emails to describe the last episode. We thank God for letting us find our quiet American friend and we hope to be able to go back to VN to meet with him again in person).
Part II: Adventure to Freedom (written by Châu Lê)
This is a Copy of the Bible Fellowship Church flier in Ventura where we had lived for 25 years after the fall of Saigon:
“ I WAS A STRANGER AND YOU INVITED ME IN”
In the Gospel of Matthew the Scripture says, “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory…Then the King will say….For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in”…
(On September 14, 1980 our church voted to sponsor the resettlement of three Vietnamese young people through voluntary offerings of our members to the Refugee Fund. It is possible that they will arrive from Singapore in about two weeks. Chau Le, a cousin of these young people, tells of her journey to freedom in the following account. She wrote this story as an assignment at her junior high school here in Ventura and has given permission for us to read it. She called it “Our Adventure to Freedom, 1975.”
We are new immigrants from Vietnam who have been living here for 4 years. We have learned a lot about this new culture and the American ways, but yet, we have not forgotten our unique adventure that has brought us here to seek a new life. Many people came here mainly for a better economic situation. In this report, you will find some reasons other than that. Also, to get to know the places we stayed and the difficulties we faced.
In1975, the Americans wanted to withdraw after 10 years of helping our country in the Vietnam war without getting anywhere. They just said,“ That’s it! We are not going to spend any more money!” Our people knew that without help, the whole country would collapse.
At this time, the North communists were taking over the South. Our freedom went down the drain. Mom worked for the Americans and we feared there would be revenge from the communists.
We left practically bare handed, just four days before the fall of Saigon with the help of my uncle’s American friend. We had no legal papers to go through the checkpoint at the airport. But…there was a way! We asked for a ride in the car that belonged to a representative.
We stayed in a bowling place at the airport overnight along with all my relatives on Dad’s side. The bowling alley was jammed-packed with people who laid down waiting for their flights. That night was a horror! I clearly remembered I felt like being baked in an oven. Just waiting impatiently was all there was to do because no one got any sleep. In order to get in the food lines, we had to be selfish and pushy. Imagine , this was only the beginning!
While everybody was scattered all around, Mom and the American friend went to ask for an affidavit to get on the flight. That day seemed lasted a year. Finally, we were off to Grande Island on a military plane. Yippee!!
Grande Island in the Philippines is under U.S. military control. Staying there 3 days in tents, we didn’t have much to do besides eating and sleeping. Once, we got to stay in a cafeteria, which was a better place. Mom and Dad were restless night and day. Mom was terribly worried about her parents and the rest of the family still at home. Mom and Dad often listened for the news back in Saigon. Kids who hadn’t a thing to worry about went out and played with the equipment borrowed from the Americans. They learned how to say “thank you” and to ask for the things they wanted. We were very thankful for plenty of delicious food that they never had enough back home. We had boiled and scrambled eggs, oranges, apples, chicken, meatballs, and soft drinks. Those 3 days ended and we moved on to Guam.
Guam is also under U.S. military control. We stayed a whole long week on this boiling hot island, full of refugees. The weather was murder! Going for meals was the worst part. We has to walk miles and miles under the firing hot sun to get to the food quarter. I just about had it every time. Mom has always been against canned foods and that was what we were fed day after day. She wasn’t too thrilled about the soft drinks either. Of course again, the adults went through paper processing for us to move on. More worries were in their minds as days passed by. But we kids seemed to have fun wherever we went.
The last stop was in Fort Chaffee, Arkansas. Dad wrote a letter to Mr. Reilley, a friend he met in Maryland a few years before, asking for his sponsorship. We waited for a month, living in a barrack and sleeping in bunks. Yes, it was a much better place! The food was poorer though. The first three weeks, low quality fish and rice was all we had. It got better later with chicken. But as always, those canned foods. Mom was concerned about our health, going around with very little vegetables to give us good energy.
I don’t really remember what my relatives did during that month, but I remember the things I did. I remember taking a bus tour around the whole fort with these people living in the same barrack, and without my parents knowing it!(!) I remember seeing my little brother fall off the balcony of the barrack! I thought I could have died and he could have died because it was partly my fault. It was a miracle that nothing happened to him. He fell like a light balloon onto the grass beneath, intact! I remember the time I visited my grandfather in the hospital. He was very ill. He was giving a few parting words, for I was going to California and he and Grandma were going to France to live with relatives there.
Finally, after that long month, Mr. Reilley’s sponsorship was accepted. It wasn’t long when we arrived in Ventura, California, a totally new place to us. It was time we had to learn how to adjust to the new country. It was like starting all over again.
It’s great that I have a chance to write about this experience and to think how fortunate I am sitting in a free country right now. I am indeed fortunate! There are millions of people still back in Vietnam, who would give anything to be in my place. I must think how difficult their lives can be, lacking food, jobs, education, and freedom.
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(Chau Le lives with her father and mother, Dat and Thu Le, in Ventura. Her father is a laboratory technician and her mother, who earned a Master’s degree in Linguistics at the Univ. of Indiana, is teaching at the Ventura School District Study Skills Center. Our church has agreed to sponsor Chau’s three cousins who are on their way here from a refugee camp in Singapore, having escaped Vietnam by boat. Their names are LanAnh Nguyen (“Lawn Awn When”), age 18; Dai Nguyen (“Dye When”),age 14; and Hien Nguyen (“Hee-in”) age 7. Two brothers in the Nguyen family already live at the Le home. They are Vinh (“Vin”), age 21 and Tue (“Tway”), age 16. It is possible that Vinh will be living with LanAnh and Tue when they get to Ventura and that 7-year old Hien will live with the Les so that adjustment will be easier for the new arrivals.)