Good afternoon Fathers, Aunties, Uncles, Cousins, Brothers, Sisters and Friends.

My father’s story is an intricate and detailed one, pieced by tales of hardship, accomplishment, and familial love.  No one person alone will ever be able to relate his entire life’s legacy because he touched each person in unique ways.  It is my honor to share with you a brief snippet of his incredible life.

My father was born into a Catholic family in the Dong Linh village in Vietnam.  His parents, my grandparents, were active in their community: my grandfather was the land surveyor of the village while my grandmother served as a catechist for the church.  As the second to youngest son, my dad grew up with 8 siblings – 5 brothers and 3 sisters.  Two of his sisters are still here: one lives in Dallas, Texas and the other lives in Sài Gòn, Vietnam.

Losing his father at five years old and his mother at sixteen years old, my dad had to grow up quickly.  As an orphaned teenager, he had to work to sustain a living, but despite his poor beginnings, he continued to forge on with his life.   In Dec. 1952 at 19 years old, he married my mom, who was from the same village.  In 1954, they had their first child, a girl, my sister Tammy.

When the North and South were divided in 1954, my dad successfully moved his little family to the South, staying in Sài Gòn until 1959.  There, they had two more children, a girl and a boy, my sister Helen and my brother, Quang.  Afterwards, they settled in Nha Trang with my mom’s oldest brother.  Despite his precarious situation, my dad still moved forward with his life.  He worked for the government in Nha Trang and went to school at night to further his education. It was at this beach city that he and my mom had 4 more children, 2 girls and 2 boys, my sisters, Yvonne and Tanya and my brothers Douglas and Xuyen, now making his a family of 9.  Due to his unwavering diligence, he established enough wealth to comfortably support his family in Nha Trang.  When the civil war broke out in 1967, my dad was drafted to serve in the army for the health care unit.  He served in Kontum, Pleiku, Cam Ranh, and Nha Trang.

When the South fell to the communists in 1975, my dad led my family’s journey from our homeland.  In March of 1975, from Nha Trang, my family spent an entire day walking and riding aboard army trucks to reach a boat in Cam Ranh, which would take them to Sài Gòn.  From Sài Gòn, they were taken to the island of Phú Quốc, where they spent 2 weeks until another boat took them to the island of Guam.  Thereafter, a plane took them to Camp Pendleton in San Diego, California.  After staying 3 months at the refugee camps, this very church, St. Mary’s, sponsored their relocation to Whittier. CA. It is here where, I, the youngest daughter and child, was born.  

For more than half of his life, my father lived in a foreign country that would become his home.  Despite being displaced in such an abrupt and violent manner, he remained resilient and focused on succeeding in the States.  Not only was he the leader of our family but he grew to be an admired figure in the community through his formation of this Vietnamese parish in Whittier.

My dad retired at 60 years old, after spending 20 years working as foreman at a fireplace manufacturing company in Fullerton, CA, but this was far from being the end for my Dad. Over the next 20 years, he helped his children’s businesses and enthusiastically assisted my mom in caring for their grandchildren.  My dad genuinely cherished his time with each of his 19 grandchildren, as toddlers up through college and beyond.  He faithfully picked up and dropped off his grandkids everyday from elementary school through high school, and as an ardent believer in the power of education, he never failed to ask about their studies, taking pride in their successes as if they were his own.

On Feb 16 at 5 AM, my dad asked my mom to help him get up because he wasn’t feeling well.   Despite valiant attempts to keep him here, my dad left this earthly world to be with the Lord on Feb. 17 at 11 AM.  He was surrounded by his children and grandchildren.

This seems like the end to my dad’s story, but it’s not.  Because he shared and influenced so many different experiences with each and every one of us, he is an undeniable element in what we do now and what we plan to do.  He lives through the relentless strength and determination that we display in the face of hardship.  He lives through the A+’s we earn in our classes.  He lives through the screams of joy as we cheer on the Clippers and the Lakers.  He lives through the spirit of warmth and love at family gatherings.  My dad may be gone physically, but he is very much alive in all of us and in all of you.  So, may we remember my dad, honor him, and make sure that we keep doing things that will make him smile that huge smile.

By Kim, the youngest daughter.