Early Life in Vietnam

 

I was born in Saigon, Vietnam on November 7, 1971 and  lived the first three years of my life in the war torn city.   I spoke only Vietnamese. (English was my second language.)  When my parents returned to the states, they left me in Vietnam in the care of my grandparents.  During that period, I grew to believe that my maternal grandparents were my parents.  I was extremely close to my grandfather. He was a high-ranking military officer (comparable to an American colonel) in the South Vietnamese army.  There is a photo of my grandfather that I remember seeing as a child.  He is in front of a huge squad of military men, and he is walking in front inspecting the troops, with some other men following him.  I don’t remember a thing about those first three years, but from stories retold to me, I was a spoiled brat (a nightmare) who could do no wrong in my grandfather’s eyes.  Everyone was afraid of me, including his own military subordinates.  I would give orders, and people were so in fear of my grandfather that they obeyed me.   His subordinates would drive me around while I barked orders.  I was not very likable, but I was adorable.  Looking back at photos, I can see the strong resemblance between Mia and me.  When my parents returned to Vietnam to take me back to the states, my dad told me that it was the first time my mom had ever seen her father cry.  It was also the last time I ever saw my grandfather.  When the war ended, he was imprisoned for the remainder of his life.  When he finally got released, he only lived a few brief months.  I really wish I could have known him.  He was a very strong man with great leadership skills. 

 

Newborn with my grandma

with Yvette

I look like a boy.  I love the packs of cigarettes next to me.

 

When my parents married, my Vietnamese grandfather and grandmother did not attend my mom’s wedding because frankly, they did not accept him. It was not because he was an American.   It was because my dad was an enlisted man.  He was not an officer.  Of course, when their first grandchild was born, they soon accepted my dad.  In the first few years of their marriage, my parents were desperately poor, and my Vietnamese grandfather would send money to my parents in the states.  However, as time progressed and the war ended, it became the other way around.  My parents would send money to Vietnam.  It was my dad and mom who helped sponsor and bring the rest of the Vietnamese family over to the states.

My parents' wedding in Vietnam

 

 

with my grandma and grandpa and cousin. 

Vietnam was so tropical and with the heat, I developed a rash

 

must have been my grandfather's birthday.

 

My mom’s family loved my dad.  Though he left my mom under very unfavorable conditions, they would still keep in contact with him.  Over the last Thanksgiving, my Vietnamese grandma and aunt called my dad while I was visiting him.  They loved him.  When he passed away, my Vietnamese relatives were crushed.  He was still family to them, and to my cousins, he was always, “Uncle Roy”. 

Lance and I are planning on building a military service memorial type wall to be displayed in our house and eventually in the boat.  Both of our families have a rich history of military service.  We intend on duplicating  my dad’s military medals and creating a shadowbox for him and Lance.  We want to include photos as well.

 

 

 

 

 

Early Life in Vietnam.....

 

my two year birthday