{"id":1111,"date":"2020-11-26T14:30:12","date_gmt":"2020-11-26T19:30:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/?p=1111"},"modified":"2023-02-19T06:06:24","modified_gmt":"2023-02-19T11:06:24","slug":"06-leaving-indiantown-gap-refugees-camp","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/06-leaving-indiantown-gap-refugees-camp\/","title":{"rendered":"06. Leaving Indiantown Gap Refugees Camp"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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06. Leaving Indiantown Gap<\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/p>

October 2, 1975 — a date I will never forget.
<\/span><\/span>It’s because I was in the last batch of refugees.
<\/span>The American Red Cross lady met me at the bus stop;
<\/span>She was the one who found me the busboy job.<\/span><\/p>

The Greyhound bus was here at the Gap.
<\/span><\/span>Waving goodbye to her as I got on the bus,
<\/span>I tucked in the seat by the window, holding on to my bag.
<\/span>No matter where it went, as long as I got to Somerset.<\/span><\/p>

I had only a plastic bag with me:
<\/span><\/span>Two old books and paperwork, and the clothes on my body.
<\/span>The lady kept reminding me:
<\/span>\u201cHold on to the folder\u201d that had my sponsor\u2019s information.<\/span><\/span><\/p>

Late that afternoon, the bus arrived in Somerset;
<\/span><\/span>It looked like my sponsor waiting for me in the car.
<\/span>As I was getting off the bus
<\/span>The minister walked over asking, \u201cAre you Lay Van Huynh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>

\u201cI\u2019m Pastor Jim Meyers.
<\/span><\/span>This is my wife, Mary.
<\/span>Welcome to Somerset.\u201d
<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m happy to be here,\u201d I said<\/span><\/span><\/p>

I followed them to their car,
<\/span><\/span>To go to the Oakhurst Tea Room, not too far, they said.
<\/span>Wow! This place was huge,
<\/span>So fancy it made me both apprehensive and thrilled.<\/span><\/p>

I saw two people walking toward us,
<\/span><\/span>They shook hands with Pastor Jim and his wife Mary first.
<\/span>Then turned to welcome me with a handshake:
<\/span>His name was Fred, and she Jean. Spangler was their last.<\/span><\/p>

After greetings and exchanging pleasantries
<\/span><\/span>Pastor Jim and his wife were already in the line.
<\/span>Seeing me still standing there grinning,
<\/span>He came over and told me to get in line.<\/span><\/p>

I saw people pick up their plates,
<\/span><\/span>A plate in one hand, the other picking up food.
<\/span>The buffet filled with delicious items ready for a feast,
<\/span>People all had their plates \u2013 some were full of meat.<\/span><\/p>

Though I was scared, looking so clumsy,
<\/span><\/span>I was hungry but I yielded to everyone humbly.
<\/span>There was chicken, baked ham, steamy hot roast beef,
<\/span>I only filled my plate a tiny amount, but inside I wanted plenty.<\/span><\/p>

What a pathetic refugee like me acting like a gentleman,
<\/span><\/span>Starving to death but acting like a high-class guest.
<\/span>People returned to the buffet back to back,
<\/span>Following my sponsor, I came back for a third.<\/span><\/p>

But later that night, I was still hungry, like a starving ghost,
<\/span><\/span>In my motel room, my stomach grumbling what a fool I was.
<\/span>I had to drink water from the sink,
<\/span>To soothe myself into sleep for the job tomorrow morning.<\/span><\/p>

I stayed in a motel across the road from the restaurant,
<\/span><\/span>The room was rather small, good enough for overnight stay.
<\/span>A queen-size bed taking up the entire room,
<\/span>Next to it was a shower stall, sink, and toilet.
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06. Leaving Indiantown Gap October 2, 1975 — a date I will never forget.It’s because I was in the last batch of refugees.The American Red Cross lady met me at the bus stop;She was the one who found me the busboy job. The Greyhound bus was here at the Gap.Waving goodbye to her as I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":806,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"post_folder":[],"class_list":["post-1111","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-the-sailor-named-lay"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1111","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1111"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1111\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/806"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1111"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1111"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1111"},{"taxonomy":"post_folder","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vietphilly.net\/hq11\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/post_folder?post=1111"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}