SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/222371_saigon30.html It's a fateful day for Vietnamese: 30 years since Saigon's fall. Includes stories and thoughts about the future for Vietnamese in the United State. Saturday, April 30, 2005 By ATHIMA CHANSANCHAI SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER Seattle actress Khanh Doan wasn't yet born when the South Vietnamese capital of Saigon fell at the hands of the North Vietnamese army 30 years ago today, signaling the end of nearly three decades of conflict in the war-torn country. Her father, a South Vietnamese infantryman, was placed in a re-education camp. She didn't meet him until she was 8 years old. Not until she joined the cast of the 5th Avenue Theatre's "Miss Saigon" did her emotions about the anniversary surface. "To my parents, the fall of Saigon was the start of a lot of hardship," she said. Since the end of World War II, the small Southeast Asian country had been beset by civil war, division in 1954, and both communist and Western -- French and U.S. -- forces throwing military might into campaigns that cost the lives of nearly 60,000 American soldiers and an estimated 3 million Vietnamese. The day the United States pulled out of its embassy in Saigon -- April 30, 1975 -- was the end of one life and the beginning of an exodus. Scenes from those last days made their way onto television screens halfway around the world: families fleeing in anything with wheels or rudders, parents tearfully pushing their children into the arms of strangers, fire in the streets and a desperate crowd clambering over embassy walls. Doan and others in the Seattle area's Vietnamese American community -- the third-largest in the country at more than 80,000 -- reflected on the anniversary with the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. Among their voices: a former naval officer who spent three years in prison after Saigon fell, a housewife who saw the disintegration of her country, a real estate agent who hopes other Vietnamese Americans build on their parents' sacrifices, and a high school girl born in Vietnam long after the communist takeover. Khanh Doan, 29, actress, an ensemble cast member in "Miss Saigon" The only full Vietnamese member of the 5th Avenue Theatre's "Miss Saigon" cast, Doan moved to Seattle about a year and a half ago. She wasn't even born when her father, a South Vietnamese infantryman, was placed in a re-education camp. She was 8 when she met her father, who found her and her mother in San Diego after years of imprisonment and searching. "I had a lot of prejudices about the show before I did it. But the director, David Bennett, really wanted to tell the story. He did a lot of research and had people talk to us, had us watch videos. It was really emotional for me. It brought up things I hadn't felt, especially thinking about my mom and what my parents went through. It was the first time it was in my face. I cried every day. "They don't think about going back to Vietnam. They feel like they'd be strangers there, going back as tourists. "Before the show, I never thought about the anniversary. To my parents, the fall of Saigon was the start of a lot of hardship. "Doing this show makes you remember this is based in history and it makes you want to portray the characters with as much truth and honesty as you can. "Vietnam is always associated with the war. Vietnam equals war. I don't want to stop people from talking about the war, but I want there to be other things. We should nurture our talents to create new material." Kim Pham, 54, publisher and editor- in-chief of Nguoi Viet, weekly Northwest Vietnamese newspapers Pham came to Seattle in 1979 after spending three years in jail because he was a naval press officer for South Vietnam. "The reason we are refugees is because we escaped and we want them to change, too, to have a better life. I feel like one of the songs in 'Miss Saigon': We don't forget the past, but we need to move on. "But with my generation, it's very difficult to tell them to move on. It's a very sensitive and emotional thing. There was pain and panic. It was very difficult to withdraw. "We can't stay here and wish someday that the communists will fall down. But there are so many factions here. We need to be like a family when they have a guest -- respect the family and don't fight with other guests." Tiffany Bui, 40, Bothell housewife, mother of three Bui is about the same age her widowed mother was when she fled from Vietnam with 11 children in tow. "The 'fall of Saigon' for me came way before April 30, 1975. It came when as a child of 10 in South Vietnam in '75, I helped my mother feed and take care of people fleeing the war from the North. We didn't have much but it was more than they had, and Mother never could say no to people in need. I remember humongous pots of soups and pots and pots of rice. We even housed a famous Vietnamese movie star. "It came when my second-oldest brother came through the front door and collapsed in my arms, scratched up and exhausted. He had lost most of his platoon and barely made it out of the jungle with his life with the help of strangers and a tart, bitter fruit that he still had in his hand. I witnessed him tell his friend's sister that her brother was dead. Her cries haunted me for years. "There's a legend in my family that an old uncle had seen a vision of a yellow star and a red star fighting and that the red one gobbled up the yellow one. "We left on a fishing boat and then went onto a barge. They were all scared and terrified. I remember there were a lot of well-dressed city folk with lots of luggage. All my mom grabbed were clothes, family china we still have, some of my dad's mementos, a stamp collection, pictures and Vietnamese money. On the big international boats, people would climb on each other in mobs. The sides broke and people fell over into the water. "To me, what I went through that day -- as harried as it was for a child of 10 -- was a walk in the park compared to what others went through. As a parent now, I can't imagine sending my child with total strangers. I can't say that day really scarred my soul. For a good number of us, it meant a bump up in our economic status. It gave us opportunities we wouldn't have if we had stayed. It was a blessing in disguise, which sounds horrible to say because so many lives were totally ruined." Casey Bui, 32, real estate agent, Tiffany Bui's brother-in-law and member of the Unity of Vietnamese Americans Committee Born just outside of Saigon, Bui was the second-youngest of 11 children. Before his family left on a military plane a couple of days after Saigon fell, his eldest brother was captured by North Vietnamese troops. The family settled in Oregon, with his father, a South Vietnamese army officer, starting over as a custodian at a local high school to support his children. "It's refreshing for me to find Vietnamese Americans my age who feel as passionately as I do about our community and not wanting to forget some of the sacrifices our parents and grandparents have made, and not squandering opportunities we've had. "As much hardship and obstacles we all have in our lives, this is still a country people literally died to get into. "If I don't give back to my community with that privilege, part of me feels that I have not taken advantage of the blessings I've been given." Thanh Vo, singer and Cingular Wireless systems analyst A budding singer when she fled Vietnam in 1982, Vo built a new fan base in Seattle after she arrived in 1988. (She lived in the Philippines and California in-between.) Her latest CD, "Khi Xa Sai Gon," or "After Saigon," was released for this anniversary. "I actually find myself dealing with a mixed set of emotions: both pride and disappointment. Pride that heroes were made by the sacrifice to liberate a country. Disappointment in the situation that made the sacrifice necessary. "I will never forget the arrival of the communists and the difficult years that followed. "With this pain in my heart, no matter what people keep saying about the country being better now, I still do not believe it. "I try to use my feelings to propel myself forward. The past can be both a driving force or an anchor." Chris and Kelly Brownlee, both 30 Vietnamese adoptees who came to the United States through Operation Babylift, they met at the 25th fall of Saigon anniversary in Baltimore in 2000, where the seeds of a cross-country romance for Bostonian Chris and Seattleite Kelly were first sown. They have a daughter, Lily, who is 17 months old. Chris: "It is a sad day, but in this time of passing and mourning we should take a look at how much our community has been able to accomplish. We should not look at how much we've lost and really cherish how much we've done. "One day out of the year, we can put our differences aside. This is a really important day for all of us to be equally represented and find our own collective voice." Thuc Chi Nguyen, 15, sophomore at Evergreen High School Thuc Chi was born in 1989 in Ban Me Thuot, southern Vietnam. She left Vietnam with her family in 1994 and settled in Seattle. Her father was a lieutenant during the war. "The first thing I think about when I think about the fall of Saigon is that it is the reason I am here today in America. Because Vietnam is under a communist government, my parents wanted our family to come over here for more opportunities." IF YOU GO The Fall of Saigon 2005: A Day of Remembrance and Hope will be held today. It starts at 11 a.m. with a gathering at Seattle's Union Station, 401 S. Jackson St., featuring Vietnamese refugees, war veterans and representatives from the Vietnamese American community. They will march to City Hall and hold a rally at 12:30 p.m. P-I reporter Athima Chansanchai can be reached at 206-448-8041 or athimachansanchai@seattlepi.com ? 1998-2005 Seattle Post-Intelligencer

A Fateful Day for Vietnamese

Chansanchai, Athima

Seattle Post Inteligencer

04/30/2005

1900.4830