“I celebrate my birthday every day because I don’t know when I was born.

“And I always have a party on April 30 because it’s a historic event that is closely related to me, and on April 15 because it’s the day I was admitted to this hospital and on November 19, because it’s the date that was engraved on my baby bracelet.

“I don’t know who my birth parents are, and I don’t know much about my roots, things that any normal American kids would know.”
Those are the words of Vũ Tiến Kinh, who captured an audience gathered to hear him speak. The one-liners lasted just a short time. When his talk started, the air seemed thicker. Misty eyes abounded.

Kinh was the featured guest at a “reunion reception” last week at Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, across from the old brick hospital that treated Vũ. It was a simple and emotion-laden event.”
Many medical students, pediatric residents and administrative staff from Mattel Children’s Hospital and the David Geffen School of Medicine ate their bagged lunches as they listened to Vũ’s story. What they heard was a story of one searching for his roots.

On April 12, 1975, an aircraft lifted Vũ and 219 other children all under age 10 from An Lạc Orphanage, carrying them out of a war-stricken Việt Nam. The plane had to make an urgent stop in Los Angeles.
The reason? Because Vũ and about 20 others were too sick to be taken straight to Fort Benning, Ga., where the Tressler Lutheran Agency of York, Pa., would take charge of placing them in foster homes.
Pediatric doctor Barry Halpern, 61, who then was an intern resident then, wrote in Vũ's interim medical report that “Vũ Tiến Kinh, 3 month of age, is malnourished, dehydrated, suffered from diarrhea, and severe conjunctivitis, and impetigo.

Before transferring Vũ to another doctor, Dr. Halpern jotted in a handwritten note: “He is an extremely interesting patient and we here at UCLA would be very interested to hear how he develops and progresses over the next months.”

Meeting again
Time went by fast.
Babies came and babies went. Dr. Halpern forgot all about his “extremely interesting” tiny patient.
Soon, it’s 35 years later.
One day Dr. Halpern received a letter from Vũ Tiến Kinh.

The letter said:
“Dear Dr. Halpern,
“I am… a Vietnamese American citizen who you, as a pediatrics intern at UCLA., may have treated in April 1975. Arriving aboard a plane with 219 other babies and children with the help of Betty Tisdale, I was apparently quite malnourished. Nearly thirty-five years later, it is my pleasure to write you that I am well…If this is indeed you, Dr. Halpern, please accept my heart-felt gratitude for your kindness.”

A copy of Dr. Halpern’s handwritten note was sent along with the letter.
Dr. Halpern, now working at Northridge Hospital Medical Center as a director of a neonatal intensive-care unit, was so touched that he had to return to UCLA, dig up the records about the babies from An Lạc Orphanage. He learned all about Betty Tisdale, the woman who orchestrated the airlift to take more than 200 orphans out of Việt Nam. He knew they had to meet.

And that happened last week in front of an audience captured by the story. Reuniting with the doctor who had cared for him, Vũ thanked Halpern.
“Thank you for saving my life,” he said. “...It is a distinct honor to return to my point of entry to the United States of America.”
Witty, humorous, and thought provoking, Vũ’s speech made the audience laugh out loud and now and again made them teary.
As told by Vũ, after UCLA, he was adopted by a Lutheran family in Williamsport, a small town in Pennsylvania. His parents named him Joseph Palmeter.

The years since 1975
Like a son returning to his family from a long and far away trip, Vũ reported that he done well in school with a bachelor’s degree in music education from Westminster College in Pennsylvania, and a master’s in conducting from Penn State University. He now is a music teacher in Connecticut.
“Just when I thought I got it, my high school students taught me many humble lessons,” he said.

Not only that, Vũ excitedly informed everyone that he has been selected by the University of Minnesota Graduate School into the doctorate program in music education and research, and, the university also has offered him the “Diversity of Views and Experiences Fellowship.
Vũ’s dream is to become an expert in the field of music education in rural communities. He wants to affect changes in the field to enrich the life of underserved and underprivileged communities across America.

“Humanity is more powerful than money.” Vũ said. “And I am happy we are doing similar line of work!
“Doctors fix people physically, and teachers and music fix their souls.”
Vũ told stories of his childhood.

He now is estranged from the family who raised him. They separated in 1994. “We had issues,” he said.
He knew from early on that he was adopted, figuring it out after a schoolmate called him “Chinese.” His parents didn’t want to talk about it, but he had questions.

In Vũ’s journey to search for his roots, Vũ met Betty Tisdale, now 87 and living in Seattle, to learn about An Lạc Orphanage in Sài Gòn, the place that had nurtured him in his first few months in life before coming to America.

To Vũ, this reunion, which he called a return to his “entry point”, is a historic milestone.
Up to now, Vũ had no knowledge of what happened beyond that point, and might never find out.
“I was told I was put in a basket and left at the doorsteps of the American Embassy in Sài Gòn ... “Having been abandoned as an infant, I long to learn about my roots.

“The question who am I, and where I came from haunts me!” Vũ said.
Vũ’s first step toward going back to his roots was to formally changed to Vũ Tiến Kinh, a Vietnamese name found in his birth certificate.
This was done, even though Vũ knew that this name was just a name that Betty Tisdale made up in a hurry while trying to create hundreds of birth certificates to satisfy the requirements for airlifting the orphans out of Việt Nam. None of the children in An Lạc Orphanage had a birth certificate before that.
“The next step in my journey will be a trip to Việt Nam, but I don’t know when that would be.” Vũ said.

A personal visit
One trip that was for certain was a journey 40 or so miles from UCLA to the offices of Người Việt Daily News.
“I know that tonight, I will get to visit the largest Vietnamese language daily newspaper outside of Việt Nam, and will be treated what is reputed to be the most Vietnamese food in America,” Vũ told the crowd.

We came to pick Vũ up at his hotel for a visit with Người Việt before dinner.
Our car passed through the busy streets of Little Sai Gon. Looking at the Vietnamese business signs everywhere, Vũ exclaimed:
“It’s such a strange feeling going through a town that’s supposed to be your town, and not understand a thing.
“And not being able to read these signs drives me crazy!”

Vũ revealed that the little knowledge he has about Việt Nam he learned through the Internet and through what Tisdale told him.
Vũ does not have any Vietnamese friends, has never listened to Vietnamese music, can’t read and can’t speak Vietnamese, and have never listened to the sounds of Vietnamese people talking. He is not familiar with Vietnamese food, except for something rolled in rice paper that Tisdale let him try a while ago.

“Oh, the office is bigger than I anticipated. No wonders, it’s the largest newspaper in the community!” Vũ said.
Pointing to one of the papers laying around, Vũ wanted me to show him how to say “Người Việt” and asked me what it means. On the way to the restaurant, Vũ hesitantly asked: “How would the community receive news about me? I have nothing to offer them except myself!”

“Oh, the community will welcome you with open arms, simply because you are Vietnamese, and will nurture you, because you want to come back to your origin.” I said.
“Are you sure?” he wondered.
“You will see!” I assured him.
At the restaurant, Vũ wanted me to explain the ingredients and show him how to enjoy every dish.
With him, everything is exotic, and delicious.

Looking at Vũ learning how to roll a piece of “Chả Giò” inside a lettuce leave, along with some cucumber slices, some mint leaves, and dipped the roll into “nước mắm” before eating, I told Vũ that he has a “natural knack for eating.”
We laughed.

“Exactly at what point did you know you had to find your roots?” I asked.
I can’t really pinpoint a time. “I think like an American, but I also felt something is missing.” Vũ replied.
“And I think I am an Amerasian, because of my slanted eyes and my height,” he added.
“It possible,” I said.

“Sometimes I wondered how could someone just put you in a basket and leave you somewhere. Other times I wondered if I was held when I was born.”
As a mother, Vũ’s question made my heart ache. Perhaps one day I will talk to him more about this topic. But not tonight. Food was a more comfortable topic.
“Do you like the Mango Salad with Grilled Prawns?”
Vũ said he liked it, and our conversation returned to Vietnamese food.
The waitress brought two steaming hot bowls of phở to our table.
I showed him how to eat phở like a pro, and explained that phở is Vietnamese comfort food.
“Oh, this is really delicious!” Vũ said.

“And I can see why it is our comfort food. It is hot, flavorful, it has starch, meat, vegetables, and a whole host of other well-blend flavors.”
Vũ sounded like a food critic.
“If you like phở that much, you have a good potential of being Vietnamese.” I kidded.’

On the way to drop Vũ back to his hotel, he said: “I just realized a big difference between Americans and Asians! Americans are very practical. To them everything has to be mutually beneficial, an exchange. Asians are more sentimental.”

“Con ngườiÁ Đông mình cư xử có tình” — I would like to follow your journey to find your roots — I said to Vũ.
“That’s wonderful!” he said. “I know what I will do now. I will visit Little Saigon more often, consider it as my surrogate home. Hopefully through you, and through Người Việt Daily News, I will learn more about Việt Nam, and have more friends…”
“It’s a sure thing!” I said.
It was pretty late. A drop of rain seemed to touch my eyelashes, even though I was sitting in a car.