By Debbie Tat (Wife of Phuoc Tat, AKA Phillip Tat)

It was late summer in 1978. Twelve (almost thirteen) year-old Phuoc was concerned. Saigon had fallen over three years earlier, and life on the family compound had changed.

In the past, schools were either Vietnamese or Chinese (Cantonese). As a Cantonese speaker from birth, Phuoc and his sister had attended a special Chinese school, where they were being taught Mandarin. Under the communists, Chinese and Vietnamese attended the same regular schools and were taught only in Vietnamese. His previously wealthy family had seen their fortune decline as the communist government made frequent changes to the acceptable currency, each time giving the wealthy less money and the poor more money.

Phuoc’s father, Moc, had read Chairman Mao’s Little Red Book and had no desire to continue life under the communist regime. Moc and his wife Hoa, wanted a better life for their family, even if it meant giving up everything they had known and to start over in a new country. It would be difficult, but they wanted more for their seven children, three boys and four girls, ranging in age from a newborn to age thirteen.

Phuoc’s parents plotted their escape. Knowing that the children had a hard time keeping a secret, they told them that they would be moving to China. The eldest daughter told all her friends this information. The parents began converting their property to diamonds and gold, which were hidden in tubes of toothpaste. One dark night, the family left their home, leaving with the clothes on their back, a few family pictures and the precious tubes of toothpaste. After bribing guards with gold, the family boarded a small boat to take them to an International Red Cross-sponsored refugee camp in Malaysia.

Just before they left, the nanny to the youngest daughter tried to convince Phuoc’s father to leave behind “her” child. The nanny’s logic was that if the rest of the family didn’t survive, at least one member of the family would be safe. Moc refused, saying that the entire family would share the same fate…together they would survive…or not.

The trip to the refugee camp was supposed to take two or three days. However, a day into the trip, the boat’s engines died and they were at the mercy of the seas. As food and then water became rationed, Phuoc’s one-month-old brother became dehydrated. Phuoc remembers his father questioning the decision to escape the country this way. He would stand on the deck of the boat at night, sobbing and screaming out to the ocean, asking, “Why, why did I make this decision for my family? We are all going to die! I should have left one of the children behind.” Phuoc would witness these cries, knowing there was nothing he could do. Finally, after two weeks at sea, a pirate ship saw them and after receiving a large payment, towed the boat to the refugee camp. It had been two and a half weeks since they had left Viet Nam. Two of Phuoc’s four sisters were so weak they had to be carried off the boat.

The refugee camp was primitive, at best. There was no plumbing or outhouses. To take care of bodily waste, the refugees swam out into the ocean. People fished and received what food they could from the International Red Cross. Wood burning fires kept families warm. Huge fire pits burned trash.

Minimal medical services were available. In the year the family spent in camp, Phuoc’s father and one of his sisters had to have emergency appendectomies…without the benefit of anesthesia. Phuoc remembers his sister saying afterwards that the pain of the incision was far less than the pain of the appendicitis.

One day, Phuoc was carrying a load of firewood back to his family’s spot. A woman carrying buckets on a yoke didn’t see Phuoc, bumped into him and he tumbled into the burning fire pit. Phuoc was pulled out of the pit, and all they had to treat his wounds was some toothpaste. Toothpaste has cleansing properties. The wounds had to be cleaned daily, causing great pain. Phuoc’s wounds healed; the only long term effect was scarring.

There were also some good memories. Phuoc’s infant brother grew up, and learned to walk and talk in camp. Phuoc remembers his little brother waking up with his oldest sister, who would carry him out to the beach to watch the sun rise and the people practicing Tai Chi. The little one copied the arm movements, while sitting in his sister’s lap.

After a year in camp, the family received word that a Catholic Church in the Chicago area had agreed to sponsor the family. Only one hurdle remained…health checkups. Phuoc’s father was diagnosed with Tuberculosis and sent to Hong Kong for six months for treatment while the rest of the family went on to Chicago. There, the family lived in a poorer section of town and was eventually reunited with their father.

Phuoc and his siblings scrounged through garbage to find toys and other items, including a book on birds by Audubon. This book, with its ragged edges and torn pages became a family heirloom because it was the first book the family owned in America.

After a year in Chicago, the family was on their own. Soon they boarded a Greyhound bus bound for Sacramento to where Phuoc had an aunt and uncle and their four sons had recently settled. Several days later, Phuoc’s family made their home in California and embarked on their new permanent life in the United States.

At the beginning of their stay in California, the family lived in a two bedroom house in downtown Sacramento. The family’s work ethic remained strong, carried on by Phuoc’s father, Phuoc himself, and later his two youngest brothers all taking on paper routes to earn some money for the family. As soon as they could, Phuoc’s sisters worked in Dim Sum restaurants. Phuoc also worked as a busboy in a Japanese restaurant. I think my family may have crossed paths with Phuoc as that was a favorite Sacramento restaurant of ours.

Ever the watchful finance manager, Phuoc’s mother took all the money in, and for the children, charged a small amount of “rent,” set aside money for savings, and doled out spending money. Phuoc’s mother’s watchful eye helped the children develop good financial habits and allowed the family to save up funds for homes and vacations.

That dream became a reality, and 35 years later, the family achieved their version of “The American Dream.” Despite Phuoc’s parents having at most an 8th grade education, all seven of their children graduated from college. One of Phuoc’s sisters became a CPA and another a doctor of optometry. One brother became an engineer. Phuoc and five of his siblings live in Northern California; the seventh resides in British Columbia. Phuoc and all of his brothers and sisters own their own homes and several have investments in other real estate.

Phuoc’s parents have six grandchildren; of the six, four have graduated from University of California schools and one is in medical school. A fifth one is currently attending a California State University. The sixth grandchild is in elementary school. Best of all, a seventh grandchild is due in mid-December.

The grandchildren grew up in a completely different world than their parents. When Phuoc and his siblings were pre-teens and teens, they were fighting to survive. As pre-teens and teens, the grandchildren were worried about getting their driver’s license, getting a car, and figuring out where they were going to attend college.

The family remains close-knit with frequent family get-togethers and Zoom calls. Phuoc’s father, Moc, turned 90 this September. He and his wife take pride in the accomplishments of their children and grandchildren….and their accomplishment of The American Dream.