Red Tide

[lambchop4life 6]

Any First Vietnamese American like myself that was actually on a Boat heading into the the deep blue,knowing that your faith is uncertain and death is looming, please chime in with your story.

I wrote this essay called " Red Tide"a long time ago, when I first came to this country, I wish I've save it,but anyways here is a ####### bit of what I wrote and can remember. Please excuse my grammar.

A long time ago back in 1986, i remembered it was Tet. Our house was small and we had a golden retriever, my grandma was still alive and coherent. poor Ba ngoai i never got to see her grave okay back to the story. I had pink eye, and apparently it affected my vision, my mother told me that i could not rub my eye or i would make it worst. She had applied medication and told me the pain is temporary,she said i would need my vision soon because we are going on a field trip. She would not tell me where but said i need to get well before we could leave.

My father was a bicycle taxi driver and candy cane stand merchant, our rival was the cotton candy folks. He often complain that you get more bang for your money if you buy from him,because we had real peanuts inside the hollow candy cane. Every night i would often accompany him to sell candy to bystander in Saigon.That is how we would make money.

One day we boarded a bus that was headed for Chau doc, for those of you its a temple shrine near Cambodia. The only thing I could remember from this bus ride was the smell of human blood. The reason why I still remember this was due to the fact someone was ran over and their body was still laying on the street as the bus pass by. There was an awful amount of blood and body was distinctly shape of a male figure, and his clothes was torn off.

We finally reach our stop, and my mother rush me of the bus. We cross the street across from the temple and started to head up the mountain.

There on top we would spend most of the day hiding only to come down at night to find food. I didn't know what we were doing at that time, but now I've realize we were trying to avoid those communist. We stayed there for about a month before we could actually leave. I'd remember one time when we came down at night and i was terribly hungry, there was this merchant that was selling Soi, aka sweet sticky rice. I told my mother I want some but she said we have no money.

[BinhJerome 14]

I can not chime in on any comments rom personal experiences, but this is a topic that I will like to follow. It happens all over the world, not just in Vietnam, many people have gone through many things to make their life better or for their childrens lives to be better. Your family risked alot, and you were one of the fortunate ones. Good topic. Jerome

[lambchop4life 6]

Any First Vietnamese American like myself that was actually on a Boat heading into the the deep blue,knowing that your faith is uncertain and death is looming, please chime in with your story.

I wrote this essay called " Red Tide"a long time ago, when I first came to this country, I wish I've save it,but anyways here is a ####### bit of what I wrote and can remember. Please excuse my grammar.

A long time ago back in 1986, i remembered it was Tet. Our house was small and we had a golden retriever, my grandma was still alive and coherent. poor Ba ngoai i never got to see her grave okay back to the story. I had pink eye, and apparently it affected my vision, my mother told me that i could not rub my eye or i would make it worst. She had applied medication and told me the pain is temporary,she said i would need my vision soon because we are going on a field trip. She would not tell me where but said i need to get well before we could leave.

My father was a bicycle taxi driver and candy cane stand merchant, our rival was the cotton candy folks. He often complain that you get more bang for your money if you buy from him,because we had real peanuts inside the hollow candy cane. Every night i would often accompany him to sell candy to bystander in Saigon.That is how we would make money.

One day we boarded a bus that was headed for Chau doc, for those of you its a temple shrine near Cambodia. The only thing I could remember from this bus ride was the smell of human blood. The reason why I still remember this was due to the fact someone was ran over and their body was still laying on the street as the bus pass by. There was an awful amount of blood and body was distinctly shape of a male figure, and his clothes was torn off.

We finally reach our stop, and my mother rush me of the bus. We cross the street across from the temple and started to head up the mountain.

There on top we would spend most of the day hiding only to come down at night to find food. I didn't know what we were doing at that time, but now I've realize we were trying to avoid those communist. We stayed there for about a month before we could actually leave. I'd remember one time when we came down at night and i was terribly hungry, there was this merchant that was selling Soi, aka sweet sticky rice. I told my mother I want some but she said we have no money.

damn it got cut off

but let me re post it again.

Any First Vietnamese American like myself that was actually on a Boat heading into the the deep blue,knowing that your faith is uncertain and death is looming, please chime in with your story.

I wrote this essay called " Red Tide"a long time ago, when I first came to this country, I wish I've save it,but anyways here is a ####### bit of what I wrote and can remember. Please excuse my grammar.

A long time ago back in 1986, i remembered it was Tet. Our house was small and we had a golden retriever, my grandma was still alive and coherent. poor Ba ngoai i never got to see her grave okay back to the story. I had pink eye, and apparently it affected my vision, my mother told me that i could not rub my eye or i would make it worst. She had applied medication and told me the pain is temporary,she said i would need my vision soon because we are going on a field trip. She would not tell me where but said i need to get well before we could leave.

My father was a bicycle taxi driver and candy cane stand merchant, our rival was the cotton candy folks. He often complain that you get more bang for your money if you buy from him,because we had real peanuts inside the hollow candy cane. Every night i would often accompany him to sell candy to bystander in Saigon.That is how we would make money.

One day we boarded a bus that was headed for Chau doc, for those of you its a temple shrine near Cambodia. The only thing I could remember from this bus ride was the smell of human blood. The reason why I still remember this was due to the fact someone was ran over and their body was still laying on the street as the bus pass by. There was an awful amount of blood and body was distinctly shape of a male figure, and his clothes was torn off.

We finally reach our stop, and my mother rush me of the bus. We cross the street across from the temple and started to head up the mountain.

There on top we would spend most of the day hiding only to come down at night to find food. I didn't know what we were doing at that time, but now I've realize we were trying to avoid those communist. We stayed there for about a month before we could actually leave. I'd remember one time when we came down at night and i was terribly hungry, there was this merchant that was selling Soi, aka sweet sticky rice. I told my mother I want some but she said we have no money. That night at around 12 midnight we went down the mountain. My mother and I went to the harbor that is the behind the temple. We quietly crept into a fishing boat with so many other Vietnamese, there my father was waiting for us. The boat cast off and began to leave harbor. Everyone was cramp inside underneath boat and no one was really making a sound. I could smell the diesel fuel, the dogs barking in the distance. Finally we reach open sea, and for three days we were wondering in the middle of no where. I've heard of Horror story of pirates and what they did,sometime my eyes water thinking about the others that never made it. We wander and wander but it seem hopeless at time. On the last day we ran into a an oil rig in the middle of no where, I remember that there was a giant whale shark swimming around, my father and I was crazy enough to try and catch that behemoth, it was bigger than our boat. As soon we threw our lines down, I'd hear yelling from above telling us to leave that fish alone. Fortunately they took us up on the oil rig and there we spent two weeks. Not knowing what to do with all these Vietnamese people,so they decided to just drop us off between the border of Thailand and Cambodia. Back than, there was still war going on between the Rebels and The Cambodian government. So for about a year and a half we spent most of our lives running into ditch when battles would break out and than come back to our wooden shack after when it finish. I remember one of the rebels posted a Polaroid picture of someone head that got blown off and his brain was splatter all over the ground.They told us this is what happen if we try to run away from this place. I will cut this story short. I've spent most of my childhood in camps. I'm glad we made it out alive, and I just want to share my story,base on what I could remember as a child growing up after the fall of Saigon.

[JimVaPhuong 4,863]

I think you should find a ghost writer who can help you write your story. It might not end up being a best seller, but if you don't at least record it then your story will be lost when you are gone. Your grandchildren and great grandchildren will want to know. Nobody should forget.

Please write more in this thread!

[Teacher Mark 53]

You should continue writing that story.

[BinhJerome 14]

I think you should find a ghost writer who can help you write your story. It might not end up being a best seller, but if you don't at least record it then your story will be lost when you are gone. Your grandchildren and great grandchildren will want to know. Nobody should forget.

Please write more in this thread!

I totally agree with Jim, make sure you either write your story or record it, this way it is not lost forever. I know talking about such subjects is hard on some people, so with Binh’s family I tend to be subtle on how I ask about the war, and their experiences. History has always been my favorite subject, and as the saying goes, “those that do not learn from history are doomed to make the same mistakes.” Regardless of a multimillion dollar book deal or a $500 book deal, all stories like this are worth writing about. Jerome

[Darnell 8,478]

I lived with Vietnamese boat ppl in the Dallas area in 73, for a year. Not sure of the total count, but it seemed like there was at least 700 that had made it into this religious compound.

I was young, didn't know anything about anything, never knew squat about why they were there, then. The kids my age were stellar futbol players, we had 11 teams on this religious compound, but the leaders somehow made sure that all of the viet kids that wanted to play, were interspersed on the 11 teams.

I do remember one girl, I think I fell in love with her. She was prolly 17, I was 10 But we only saw each other at mealtimes, and never one day after another - maybe 3 times a week? Finally she started to talk with me, sat down with me at the huge refectory table to eat.

30 years go by, I grow up, learn about the Vietnam boat lift, and then get connected with families on the Gulf Coast here, we talk a bit about that religious compound. I didn't have any thought to go and find HER, again, but I do remember that she made a profound impact on my life, at the time.

-----

Writing is a great way to pass the time whilst yer waiting for the casefile to wind it's way through the system. I'd encourage you write more and more - for many - it's cathartic, helps to purge the system, get back on track.

[lindal24 1]

This is another good story: http://www.cnn.com/2010/US/04/28/vietnam.immigrant/index.html

Editor's note: CNN.com is collecting tales of the Vietnamese diaspora. Here is one family's story. If your family left Vietnam after the war, tell us about it here.

Decatur, Georgia (CNN) -- The Vietnam War ended with the fall of Saigon 35 years ago this week, but Hong Nguyen will never surrender.

Nguyen's story is just one among millions from Vietnam's tragic war era, but it's also one that ultimately resolves in triumph.

Nguyen was a Republic of Vietnam army major stationed in Da Nang when the port city was bombarded by the enemy North Vietnamese army in late March 1975. Commanders in Saigon, 380 miles to the south, offered no guidance or information, he said.

"It was total chaos," Nguyen, now 74 and living in Decatur, Georgia, said through an interpreter. "The only thing anyone knew was that something was wrong. Nobody knew the details, so everyone was on the run."

Nguyen gathered up his wife, Que Pham, their seven children and the family dog and headed for Da Nang's Tien Sa port, hoping to escape on a boat. Thousands of others in the city of half a million had the same idea.

Hong Nguyen, 74, survived 11 years in Vietnamese re-education camps and moved to the U.S. in 1993.

Hong Nguyen, 74, survived 11 years in Vietnamese re-education camps and moved to the U.S. in 1993.

The artwork on Nguyen's front-yard lotus pond is heavy with symbolism.

The artwork on Nguyen's front-yard lotus pond is heavy with symbolism.

Nine hours later, Nguyen and his family, along with a few hundred others, were able to board a 500-foot-long barge. (The dog was left behind.) They managed to push off and row out into the South China Sea, but it was no sanctuary. Thugs terrorized the other passengers, taking their cash, jewelry and even clothes.

"They got on with a purpose," said Nguyen, who lost his sidearm and uniform to the ruffians.

The refugees drifted for two days and two nights without food or drinkable water. The thugs killed several people, and others died of dehydration in what Nguyen's family calls "the atrocity."

At last they were rescued by a proper ship, which carried them 295 miles down the coast to Cam Ranh Bay. The next day, they caught another boat to Vung Tau, where Nguyen ran barefoot across scorching sand to find rags in which to wrap his children's feet so they could make the crossing.

The next day, the family rode the remaining 40 miles overland to Saigon, where Nguyen reported for duty at the national security section office.

Despite the chaos up north, it was business as usual for the military and government for most of April 1975, Nguyen said, even though the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese army were rapidly advancing southward.

"There was still hope, because the western part of Vietnam was still stable, and we believed we could establish ourselves there to resist and defeat the communists," Nguyen said.

Vietnamese in America

The end of the Vietnam War in April 1975 brought a wave of immigrants to the United States.

The U.S. Census Bureau didn't even count people of Vietnamese origin in the 1970 Census, but in 1980 it counted nearly 262,000. The Vietnamese population has roughly doubled every 10 years since.

The Census Bureau counted nearly 1.3 million people of Vietnamese origin in 2004.

It was not to be. With the withdrawal of American troops two years earlier, South Vietnamese forces could not hold off the communist advance. Saigon fell April 30. The war was over.

Nguyen, suddenly out of work with a wife and seven children to feed, operated a bicycle taxi for about six weeks. Then an order came for all officers of the defeated army to report to meetings.

In June 1975, Nguyen and hundreds of thousands of his fellow officers, intellectuals, religious leaders and others associated with the losing side were arrested and sent off to communist "re-education camps" for however long their keepers decided.

Nguyen spent the next 11 years being thrust into a series of filthy camps, subjected to desperate living conditions, intense indoctrination and hard labor in the jungle heat and mountain cold. It's not known how many inmates died from disease or were worked or starved to death in the camps.

Nguyen's wife, Que Pham, was left to fend for herself.

"My wife and children barely made a living by selling vegetables at the flea markets and collecting plastic bags to recycle," he said.

The government tried to entice detainees' families to move to remote settlements in the countryside, but Pham held out.

"These women were hopeless," Nguyen said. "They had to support themselves, raise their children, while being taken advantage of and were left without anything. They were deceived with promises that if they would go to these 'new economized places,' their husbands would be released early. ... It was an empty promise."

Outside his Georgia home today, Nguyen shows visitors a statue he fashioned to honor these women's courage and sacrifice. A small figure of a woman holds a child next to a live miniature tree.

I wanted to express my feelings for my country. I want to be recognized as Vietnamese.

--Hong Nguyen

"The communists knew the wives were dedicated to their husbands, but they wanted the wives to go where they could not survive," Nguyen said. They wanted to wipe out a generation and all memory of freedom, he said.

Nguyen finally was released, and the family reunited in 1986, settling in Saigon, by now renamed Ho Chi Minh City, where he worked as a carpenter.

Vietnam's government has liberalized its social restrictions and economy since the mid-1980s, according to the CIA World Factbook, and foreign investment has pumped cash into the country.

Nguyen still despises the communists.

"They use propaganda to improve their image with the American people. They have no noble intention at all," he said of Vietnam's political leaders. "In Vietnam today, the people are oppressed so much."

The communists "still have control by taking advantage of capitalists who supply the money that keeps them in power," he said.

In 1993, Nguyen and his dependents were allowed to emigrate to the United States under a program for former prisoners of the regime.

iReport: Share the story of your Vietnam journey

Nguyen, Pham and four of their children flew to Los Angeles, California. (The three oldest children were not eligible to emigrate because they no longer were Nguyen's dependents; two since have emigrated, and the last is in the process.)

The West Coast was swamped with immigrants, and work was scarce. When the news came that Atlanta, Georgia, would host the 1996 Summer Olympic Games, Nguyen knew that meant jobs. The family moved to Georgia, and the parents soon landed jobs in housekeeping at a downtown hotel.

Interpreters

Hong Nguyen told his story to CNN through two interpreters: Hanh-Hoa Nguyen (no relation), the mother of CNN Special Projects Executive Producer Kim Bui Barnett; and My-Hanh Nguyen, Hong Nguyen's 19-year-old granddaughter, a Georgia State University student who immigrated from Vietnam four years ago.

RELATED TOPICS

* Vietnam War

* Refugees and Displaced People

* Atlanta

"Due to the language barrier, it was very hard," Nguyen said. "Completely different culture and way of life. But we are very proud to say that after only eight months of government help, we were able to secure jobs and gradually learned to adapt to the new life."

Pham continued at the hotel for years, gaining the love and respect of her co-workers. She was even elected "queen" in an in-house contest. Her husband proudly shows off a photo of her, resplendent in her traditional Vietnamese gown.

Nguyen moved on to better-paying jobs, first at a furniture factory and then at an auto parts maker in Atlanta. He retired in 2006.

"Our lives have become quite stable," he said.

On the front of the family's immaculate brick ranch home near Atlanta, Nguyen has cultivated vines into a large map of Vietnam. A Vietnamese flag flies above it.

In the center of the front lawn, Nguyen built a concrete box containing a water reservoir, from which elegant lotus flowers rise every summer.

"The lotus pond is the symbol of Buddhism, the religion that our family relies on to guide our belief and conduct," Nguyen says.

The street-facing side of the box shows the silhouettes of two adults, seven children and a dog looking out to sea in Da Nang. A blood-red communist hammer-and-sickle smashes half a sunburst symbol of freedom, while in the opposite corner the letter F for "freedom" holds up the other half of the sunburst, which resembles the tiara of the Statue of Liberty.

The side facing the house shows the Olympic rings and several athletes. Vietnamese words deliver the message, "Stay fit to serve your country." It is painted in the yellow and red of the Vietnamese flag.

"I wanted to express my feelings for my country. I want to be recognized as Vietnamese," said Nguyen, a naturalized U.S. citizen. "I wanted to do something that will remind us of where we came from, how we Vietnamese had to make the decision to be away from our country despite our inexpressible feelings toward it.

"This means we have never and will never forget Vietnam and Vietnamese people, though unfortunately and reluctantly we are apart from them. We always look out for our country and our people."

[Huong and Phung 0]

These are good stories along with the one I've heard from my parents and one of the guy I work for. Talk about how is he an officer back then for the South Vietnamese government and how they run things. Pretty interesting stuff and really hate to see it goes away. I asked him to record it or type it down but it's hard for him now that he is in a medical condition. SAD SAD.

[Kevin-n-Merlaine 14]

My dear friends here in Wichita came to the US via a military transport. They fled Saigon and drifted to the Philippines. The military brought them to San Francisco. One family member was killed in the fighting and another who fled apparently killed an NV officer. He hasn't been back since and is still afraid too. He's sure they'll have him in their system and that he'll be apprehended if he tries to enter the country. They're a very cool family..lots of stories and amazing people

[Kevin and 10]

My BIL at age 13-14 tried to escape and got thrown in prison. He escaped prison, through the sewer, and fled to Nha Trang. Once in Nha Trang he got on a boat to the PI. He lives in CA now.

After the war my FIL fled into the jungle, he was a captain for the ARVN. He had to come out of hiding, because the communists were threatening the family. He was imprisoned until one his relatives, a ranking communist, got him released.

One of my BILs was killed trying to escape. Their boat was boarded by pirates.

I came here on a plane carried by a business man from CA and then was carried by an off duty flight attendant from CA to MN.

[CoolHand2x2y2z 0]

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2010/05/06/church.vietnam.boat.people.cnn