On the left is Mr. Day. On the right, Mr. Trinh. Mr. Day was 77 and had been the president of our Golden Age Club for a year. He spoke very little English, but he had an amazing spirit. Later, I visited Mr. Day and his family in Tacoma. The family was worried because he seldom left the apartment. He gave me a can of tea as a gift. I first met Mr. Trinh when Debbie and I were interviewing refugees who thought their English might be good enough to teach in our school. It was a hot, humid afternoon and the last candidate was a very tired-looking man wearing faded pyjamas. I asked him the first required question, and he answered in flawless English. I asked him what his job had been in VN, and he answered, "I was...what I think you call in English...a Supreme Court Justice.." It turned out that he had been released from prison (for health reasons) about a month before and had immediately escaped the country. He taught for us, later was elected Vienamese head of the camp, and was always a dear, generous friend. The last time I heard from him, he was working as an accountant in San Jose.
The day the young monk left...with Chieu and Debbie.
A year later, I was teaching at Seattle Central Community College. One evening, the department door opened and Chieu walked in. He had just arrived and was there to ask about ESL classes. That was one of the best and happiest surprises of my life.
Early mornings, the camp loudspeakers would call out the names of people scheduled to leave in one or two days. The entire camp would stop to listen. From Galang, boats would take people to Singapore, 5 hours away. They'd spend about 5 days in a Singapore camp and then fly out. This is Mr. Tong, his wife, and daughter leaving for Singapore and then Kentucky.
Ba Kim and Ba Chin.
Kim and her daughter resettled in Texas.
Chin had a big family, and they went to Pennsylvania.