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Category Archives: People

The Discard pile at Delmo

03 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Events, People, Travel

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Delmo 1

During a winter school break, back in 1977, I took a group of high schoolers from Tilton, Illinois, to Delmo Community Center, at Homestown, in the Missouri Bootheel. We loaded many boxes of good used clothing and groceries into a borrowed truck, and ten students into two cars, and headed south southwest. The weather was cool and gray overcast, but as cooperative as we could expect for midwinter. The church had contributed to Delmo for many years, but no one had visited at any time that anyone remembered.  When we arrived the first thing that we did, with the guidance of a gracious older staff member, was to tour the facilities and to drive around the area. The community center consisted of a barracks-type utility building, about sixty by thirty feet,  left over from the end of the Great Depression, a church and a bunkhouse  in varied conditions of maintenance and decay. Nearby, Pemiscot and New Madrid Counties showed several crowded housing developments of similar age and condition, filled with nearly identical four room cottages, mostly segregated by race, set in the middle of cotton and tobacco fields, a taste of the deep south in this appendage of Missouri. It was culture shock for our blue collar but relatively comfortable contingent.

Returning to the center, we entered the utility building that housed the thrift store, packed full of goods, and suffering from a leaky roof that left the unmistakable odor of mold and mildew in the place where we would be working. Instead of unloading our donations into the space, we knew that we had a major clean-up to accomplish first.

We spent a day sorting and organizing the clothing and household goods that were there. Every piece of clothing that was damaged was piled outside on the ground in the drizzling rain. The store was supposed to be open again at noon the next day, and we had a lot to do to get it ready. We organized into work crews, and after the existing goods were finally in order, we unloaded the boxes we had brought and placed them neatly onto the racks, tables, and shelves. At the end of the day, we knew that we could have it ready for the reopening the next day. The areas under the leaky roof were cleared of goods, with buckets in place, and the pile of discards outside reached above our heads. We planned to load the discards onto the truck the next day and take them to a landfill.

Our group relaxed for the night in the bunkhouse across the parking lot, enjoyed the warmth and the kitchen for our meals, played some games, sang some songs and slept till 7:30 in the morning, when we rose to a light snowfall and some noise outside. We could see that people were coming and going from the area, but we didn’t know why. When we finished breakfast we returned to the store and saw that the discard pile was almost entirely gone. Only a few of the worst items remained. Neighborhood residents had come to claim the things that we thought were too bad to sell for pennies or to give away inside. As one of the women still there explained, she could turn the things she was holding into usable items. She would wash and mend, take apart and remake, until she had children’s clothing, quilts, aprons, and all kinds of things that could be used. Her plans were multiplied many times by the others who had carried armfuls of the pile away.

We returned to our work, chastened by the new knowledge that our judgments were impaired. After the store reopened people came back, and checked out with normal armfuls of used goods, still celebrating the windfall taken from the discard pile outside and warmly welcoming us into their community.

https://preservemo.wordpress.com/most-endangered/2011-2/ and http://www.nps.gov/nr/feature/afam/2010/delmo_community_center.pdf

Letter from the “Good Old Days”…things gotta change

01 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People, Racial Prejudice

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Rose Hill, July 19, 1914 [Miss Bessie Coen, Marshall Ave 3201, Mattoon] 

Dear Bessie, I will answer your most kind and welcome letter which I received last Friday and was sure glad to hear from you. How are you standing this hot weather? I suppose that you are at the park now. It is 7:30 clock. I would sure like to be with you. It seems like a long time since I saw you. I am thinking about going up to my sisters one day this week. If I do I think I will drive over next Sunday eve if I can but Bessie don’t look for me until you see me coming. 

Oh that was too bad about that colored man. I don know when things are gonna change but they got to. I had some bad luck the other evening. One of the horses run away with me but I didnt get hurt very bad. I got two ribs broken But I get out pretty lucky. I havent worked much since. I am going to try to work tomorrow. Well Bessie I must close for this time. Answer soon. Good by from your true friend, CW

 

Letter from the “Good Old Days”… sunset laws

27 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People, Racial Prejudice

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Mattoon, Illinois, July 15, 1914 [Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill]

Dear Carl,

I received your welcome letter this week and was so glad to hear from you. I have just been helping mamma in the garden, and can hardly write. If we don’t have some rain pretty soon I don’t think that we will have much garden. I know you are glad when night comes these hot days; the air is a little cooler then. Papa is not helping bail hay now. He is working on the subway now. 

There was a lot of excitement in this part of town one day last week. A colored man got off the train and began to run. One of the police saw him and started running after him. Soon a large crowd had joined him and the colored man ran down Cottage Ave. and through the shop yards then down Marshall almost to our house then down Marion past where we did live. By the time the crowd got here it certainly was a crowd. We thought there was a big fire some place near, but soon saw what they were after. The fellow got just outside of town, ran into a corn field and dropped to rest. The police found him unable to go any farther, and they had to haul him back to town. He almost died before he got to town though. They locked him up but next morning turned him loose. Someone had told him that colored men not working here were not allowed to stop here, and I guess he was getting out as soon as he could. He thanked the police for not shooting at him. He was so polite but the people were so awful. It’s hard to believe that people can be so mean, and policemen to boot. 

Have you had any rain down there since you were here. We haven’t had any rain for a long time. They had a good rain at Charleston and Loxa not long ago, but not any here. Well I must quit writing for the postman will be here pretty soon. I write long letters and don’t say anything either. Write soon.

From your True Friend, Bessie.

A letter from the “Good Old Days”…in the Mattoon shirt factory

26 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in People

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Carl and Bessie- True Friends

Bessie Coen

Bessie Coen

Mattoon, Illinois, Feb. 18, 1914 [to: Mr. Carl Warfel, Rose Hill]

Dear Carl,

I received your welcome letter yesterday and was so very glad to hear from you. It seems a very long time since you were here. You said that it was fine sleighing when you wrote, but I think that it would be better boat riding now.

I got my valentines and chewing gum all right. The gum was fine and the valentines were just as pretty as they could be. I got your card too.

You said that you didn’t suppose that I had worked at the factory during the bad weather last week, but I went every day. I came home at noon on Mon., I got too sleepy and tired to sew, but I went every day the rest of the week. Men take one horse and snow plows and clean some of the snow off the walks, but we girls always had to go too early for them. We almost froze at work all last week, they couldn’t heat the factory, and we worked with our coats on all the time, but our fingers would get so cold that we could hardly use the scissors. I didn’t go to work at all this Monday, it was so cold early in the morning that I supposed it would be that way all day.

Clara Reed (the girl right across the road in that house in front of us, you know) works at the factory, and she walks to work with us and we have some great times. This morning the walks were covered with ice, and Bonnie kept falling all the way to work. Clara and I laughed at her until I know all the people between here and the factory will know us by the way we laugh all the time.

I wrote Vena a card since she went home, but I haven’t heard from her yet.

A janitor at the North School here in Mattoon fell and broke his back this morning, when he was carrying ashes out of the building. Gladys Howard fell on the walk and struck her head on something, and came to work crying. So many people fall on the walks and hurt themselves when there is so much sleet and freezing. Well I know that you will not want to put in all your time trying to make out what this scratching is so I will close. I will have to sew some tonight and it is now 8:30 so I guess that I had better get to work. I didn’t sew much last week at night. Answer real soon. I hope that it will not be so very, very long before I see you. Bonnie and I have just been learning a song “The Factory Girl” that we found in one of our papers and mamma knows the tune, and nearly all the girls in the factory are crazy about it. I will try and sing when you come up. Its just about all right, I think. I will stop writing this time. I guess I’ll not sew tonight. I’m most too sleepy.

From Your True Friend, Bessie.

Write soon.

Thank you, Hue Thi Nguyen!

21 Saturday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Books by Gary Chapman, Death, People

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Books by Gary Chapman, The River Flows Both Ways, Vietnam and Cambodia

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Who could imagine that the decisions of a woman in Vietnam, during and within a few years after the war, would have such a profound impact on our lives? The decisions that Hue made led a decade later to a young man named Au entering our lives as a dancer and the dance partner of our daughter Alicia as they studied at Illinois State University. He brought an amazing story of hardship, endurance, and perseverance, that was matched by his extraordinary determination to do well in his studies, his work, his willingness to tackle any challenges, his open-heartedness, and his love of family. They married in 1990 just before Au’s first return to Vietnam, with his brother Long, to see his mother and grandmother, and to reassure them that their difficult decisions had been worth the sacrifices they had made.

In the next five years came our three wonderful grand-daughters, who have each grown up in the security of parents who have been devoted to their nurture and the development of their minds, hearts, and talents with a depth that few children have known.

We owe a lot to Au, computer and communications technician that he is, and cook, repairman, hunter, painter, martial artist, fisherman, runner, dog-lover, care-giver, mechanic, audio-visual specialist, volunteer….husband, son-in-law, father, son.

Thank you, Hue Thi Nguyen, for the decisions and sacrifices that you made, and for the life that you led. May you enjoy the blessings of heaven forever.   Hue Thi Nguyen, 1950-2015.

Hue decides to try again to get Au out

20 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Books by Gary Chapman, Events, People

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Books by Gary Chapman, The River Flows Both Ways, Vietnam and Cambodia

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Before making any more decisions about leaving, Hue decided to wait to hear from Phuong and Long to make certain that they had been able to emigrate. The weeks following the return to Go Dau felt longer and longer as they waited for word that Phuong and Long had made their way beyond the refugee camps in Thailand. Food and money were scarce, and hope itself became harder to find. Finally a letter from the United States arrived, and they celebrated the news that Phuong and Long were safe and secure there.

Hue decided to find Aunt Phan again to see what kind of plan of escape still made sense. Aunt Phan had a son, Trai, and his wife, Lien, and their two little boys named Anh and Ling. Trai and Lien were restless and eager to leave. They all began to search for a way out. They knew that smaller numbers would have a better chance. Girls would have a harder time making the journey, especially the journey on foot through the jungle, if that was the only way to escape.

News of families trying to escape by sea alarmed everyone, and the government published horror stories of families lost at sea, turned away at foreign ports and forced to return to Vietnam, and starving and dying of thirst. They wanted to discourage people from trying to leave. The dangers of the jungle and war in the west were frightful enough. The family had no experience with the sea, so only the land escape route made any sense. But what chance did they have to make it out of Cambodia? Civil war was raging on the western frontier. The Vietnamese Army was in charge of most of the route, and fewer people would be able to make their way through the checkpoints since they were firmly in control. Could any of them really go on that journey with Trai and Lien, people they barely knew?

Who would try to make the journey? When they weighed and considered everything, only Au had a good prospect of making it out successfully. Could they send him by himself? Hue finally decided to send Au with Aunt Phai’s son and his family. Au would soon be thirteen. He would have to cross Cambodia almost on his own, just in company with his older cousins, supposedly helping them with their little children.

Grandma Tien and Hue had a hard time saying goodbye to Au.  They felt certain that this was the last time that they would see him while either of them lived. He and Muoi were born just two months apart, and he was both son and grandson to Tien. With the situation in Vietnam growing more desperate week by week, and all the troubles they had seen, how could they keep him with them? He needed a chance to live a better life than he would face in Vietnam.

At the end of the calendar year, after farmers were harvesting the long season rice, Hue took Au to Svay Rieng, where Au climbed on board a truck used for smuggling.  She paid the smuggler the money he required, told Au that she was proud of him and knew he would succeed, and gave him a parting hug and kiss. The smuggler had his workers load large bags of rice, each weighing about one hundred kilos, onto the bed of the truck. A large piece of plywood in the center of the truck bed allowed a small open space for people to sit underneath, so sacks of rice could be stacked on top as well as on the sides of the space. Au and Trai’s family of four crammed themselves into the smuggling space. Au did not know his cousins; he did not remember meeting them before, but he soon became familiar with their smells and sounds and the feel of their bodies around him. The truck had no shock absorbers, so they became sore from riding with little room even to wiggle, although the two little children did a lot of wiggling. Confined in such a small, dark, hot space, jostled this way and that, they all felt like chunks of meat thrown into a lidded wok with frying rice.

Hue and the children are jailed in Cambodia

19 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Books by Gary Chapman, People

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Books by Gary Chapman, The River Flows Both Ways, Vietnam and Cambodia

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When the soldiers who stopped their truck saw the light-skinned Hue, Mui and Kim Chi, they examined their papers carefully and discovered that they were actually from Vietnam. They detained Au, Hue, Mui, and Kim Chi.  The checkpoint guards confined the family in a high-fenced area some distance away from the road and they enforced strict war zone security measures. The troops did not abuse the people in the confinement, but they were not gentle or respectful. Everyone was fed like the troops. They had enough to eat, but rations were simple cans of rice.  Tin cans had become the common measure and utensil during the Khmer Rouge years, and here they continued to reuse tin cans in this way.

Local civilians came in and out of the military compound where they were confined. Eager bartering over extra food, cigarettes, and necessary clothing occurred while the soldiers weren’t looking. The locals charged exorbitant prices for the exchanges made inside the compound. Even though Hue had many items of jewelry, and other small valuables, sewed into the seams of the family’s garments for safe keeping, she did not want to use these to make purchases inside the prison, unless it was absolutely necessary. Mostly she kept what she could for the future.

Mosquitoes pestered all the time. There were no mosquito nets for sleeping. Everyone was accustomed to mosquito nets while they slept, so the nights were miserable at first, and people feared the spread of malaria.

They stayed near Sisophon for several weeks. Then they were transported south toward Battambang to an official, gated jailhouse.  There were more restrictions and more tension.

Hue knew that the children, and the others who were imprisoned there, could not hold out for long under such a strict regime. She brushed her hair, and made herself as presentable as she could. Not that it was hard for her to look pretty, for Hue was always a lovely woman with the charm of one who could make an impression. She soon attracted the attention of the Vietnamese General in charge of the prison, and she gradually revealed her story in a sympathetic way, as she worked to win the trust of all of those in charge.

The soldiers in charge of the prison resented the waste of time spent in dealing with captives from their own people, so they made life harsher than it needed to be. They had their hands full. They were occupying Cambodia. They were trying to restore normal trade and civilian life after years of Khmer Rouge destruction. They were still fighting opposition forces at the frontier. When the officers could see that some prisoners were willing to be cooperative and helpful, and even do favors for them, they began to relax the rules and encourage more freedom for the Vietnamese captives.

Through one of the civilians who came into the prison, Hue managed to smuggle out that letter to Grandmother Tien in Vietnam explaining that only Long and Phuong might have managed to make it out of Cambodia, and the rest of the family would find their way back to Go Dau as soon as they could. Au, Mui, Kim Chi, and their mother and stepfather were confined in another detention center near Phnom Penh for several weeks.

Hue tries to take her family to Thailand…only two make it.

19 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Books by Gary Chapman, People, Travel

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Books by Gary Chapman, The River Flows Both Ways, Vietnam and Cambodia

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Hue brought the family together in Phnom Penh in November. She made arrangements with Aunt Phai who promised safe travel to Thailand through Khmer Rouge-controlled territory.    They knew it would be difficult to avoid Vietnam’s occupation troops, find their way through territory controlled by a resistance group, and follow the route of Cambodian refugees into Thailand.

On the night before leaving in November, in the middle of the night, they walked to the house of another family, stayed until early morning, then they walked to yet another family that owned the two trucks they would board. Aunt Phai herself was with them all, serving as a guide. She knew the way to travel, on Route 5 toward the Thai border, expecting to disembark near Battambang, and walking through the jungle until they crossed the Thai border. Then they would find a refugee camp where the rest of their arrangements could be made through the officials at the camp. The weather was sunny and warm. The rainy season was behind them. They would not travel together in one truck in case something would happen to one of the trucks. At least the other might be able to continue the journey. It was about 6 A.M. when Long and Phuong climbed into the first vehicle, a canvass-covered cargo truck with large sacks and crates of contraband stacked on the truck bed on which dozens of passengers sat and piled their small bundles. Long and Phuong were not carrying anything.

Hue and Thin, and the children—Au, Mui, and Kim Chi—with a few bundles of clothing and tradable goods, climbed into the second truck. People and cargo filled both trucks. Roads were terrible, full of ruts, so the trucks could go no faster than twenty kilometers per hour. Every few kilometers Cambodian people wearing a variety of clothing, sometimes parts of uniforms, stood alongside the road, and the drivers made payments to them for permission to pass without interference. All of the passengers had to stay in the trucks under the canvass, so they were not obvious, but the back ends of both trucks were open. Long tried to sleep as the truck jostled along, and sometimes he was successful.

The trucks rattled apart and frequently broke down. Having never travelled far before, Au soon became sick from the jarring motion. Occasionally when there was no one in sight they stopped to let people relieve themselves.  Au tried to calm his unsettled stomach, but back aboard the truck he was sick again. Neither truck made any special effort to hide, but they avoided larger towns where they knew that regular Vietnamese Army soldiers were stationed. Until they got closer to the border no one was checking to see who belonged where.

During that first day they traveled most of the long road from Phnom Penh toward Battambang, over three hundred kilometers. When the sun had set and the road turned too dark for the driver to see where they were going, both trucks stopped for the night, and everyone slept in their clothing with a few shared blankets along the roadside near the trucks. Hue’s family slept together that night.

At daybreak they ate a little that they had packed and resumed the traveling. Long and Phuong were in the first truck all of the way. Near the end of the afternoon, in the area near Sisaphon, Long saw the other truck pass them briefly and then pull off to the side of the road. Mui and Kim Chi waved at him from the open back end. He waved and smiled back at them, not realizing this would be his last sight of them for a long, long time. Later that day, and on the many days following, he clung to the memory of them waving.

Toward sunset the road became impassable. Long and Phuong and the rest of their group climbed down off of their truck for the last time. The other truck was nowhere to be seen. There was no sign of activity around the shacks and buildings in that region. People were afraid to be out at night. The gravel path that continued where the road was no longer drivable served ox carts, bicycles and walkers, but not four-wheeled vehicles. As darkness fell they arrived at a hut, and they crowded into it to sleep for the night, hoping for some protection from the mosquitoes. Long and Phuong wondered aloud where their family was, but no one knew. They lay awake worrying about them. They knew that Hue had all of the gold and extra resources the family needed for the trip, and they themselves had nothing. Mostly they just wanted to be together again. They had no way of knowing that the other truck had been captured by occupation soldiers, and Hue and the rest of the family had been imprisoned.

Hue Thi Nguyen, 1950-2015

16 Monday Feb 2015

Posted by chaplines2014 in Books by Gary Chapman, Death, People

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Books by Gary Chapman, The River Flows Both Ways, Vietnam and Cambodia

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Hue, which means “Rose” in Vietnamese, was born in Tay Ninh Province, Vietnam, in 1950, the daughter of Do Van Nguyen and Vinh Thi Tran.  Her family moved to Svay Rieng, Cambodia, where she met and married Hung Thanh Nguy in 1966. They had four children, two boys—Long and Au, and two girls—Kia and Mui. Hung and Hue moved to Go Dau, Vietnam, in 1970, where they continued as cross-border traders with Hung’s father, Lao Nguy. Hung was killed on October 19, 1973, and Hue moved to Ho Chi Minh City and established herself as an entrepreneur, owning trucks and passenger vehicles, a business which she conducted the rest of her life.

Hue married Thin Nguyen and they had one daughter, Kim Chi. During the actively anti-Chinese period of the reunited Vietnam, Hue worked to provide a means of escape for her young brother-in-law, Phuong Nguy, and her two sons, Long and Au, so that they would not be caught in the mistreatment of Vietnamese citizens who had Chinese ancestry, or conscripted to serve in the ongoing war in Cambodia, and so that they might have an opportunity for education and a better life.  After several years each of the three boys emigrated to the United States and became citizens. Thin and Kim Chi emigrated to Texas, and he and Hue divorced.

Hue continued to earn a living that supported, not only her own daughters, but also her parents and siblings. As the Vietnamese economy began to flourish in the late 1990’s and 2000’s, she assisted her siblings in getting their own businesses started. She sent Mui to the United States to live with Au and Long at Bloomington, Illinois, in 1991.

Hue married Phap Danh in Ho Chi Minh City around 1988, and they had one daughter, Phong. Phong came to live with Mui and her husband, Kenyatta Stevenson, in 2014, in Miami, Florida.

Hue died on January 19, 2015, at home with her husband, Phap, as a result of complications from diabetes.  Kia and other near family members were with her, and she was aware that Long, Au, Kim Chi, and Phong were flying home to be with her. (Mui remained home with her husband, who was dying with cancer.)

She was buried at Cu Chi, Vietnam, attended by hundreds of family and friends from many places in Vietnam, Cambodia, and the United States.

Phuong, Long, and Au are stuck in Phnom Penh…

16 Monday Feb 2015

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Vietnam and Cambodia

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Hue and Thin came when they heard a rumor that the plans for the boys to leave by boat had collapsed. Hue did not know where to find them, so she walked around the city of Phnom Penh until she happened to see a man that she recognized as the second helper of the group. He was working with Huu to provide the large group’s daily needs. She said it was a pure good luck that she finally could follow him to the building where the boys were being kept. She arrived just in time, for the group was deciding that they had to disband and return to their homes in Vietnam.

The situation in Vietnam was no better, so Hue made plans with a family that she knew. They would take care of the boys until Hue could make another plan. The boys finally had some freedom to go out as long as they did everything they could to avoid Vietnam’s occupation troops. Dressed in the drab worn clothing of common Cambodian peasants, they could blend into the marketplace and the dusty streets. Loose fitting clothes concealed the fact that they were thin, but not as skeletal and exhausted as most of the Cambodians who had survived the Khmer Rouge years. The people who lived around them were relieved and hopeful, and everyone gratefully returned to holding the regular festivals, but they were still wary that something would occur to bring back the unspeakable horrors of the recent years. Few people complained, so the boys waited with the patience of those who knew they were fortunate, and they shared in the joy of a people who were tasting freedom again. They compared their plight with the fates of many who had not survived, whose countless bones were still piled in open pits and as common floating in the river currents as tree branches.

At the southeast edge of Phnom Penh, the boys lived in a simple house. They walked to the market and practiced the Cambodian words they were learning. Hue could speak Cambodian fluently, so when she was there she had no trouble talking to people. The boys fished in the river that flowed near the house. The family welcomed them for a few weeks, because they had known Hue years earlier in Svay Rieng. She paid them what she could to take care of them, while she returned home to take care of business and consult with her people in Vietnam. Soon that family grew tired of sharing their small space and food with the three boys. Long heard their loud complaints, “How long will we have these boys underfoot? They will eat us out of house and home!” Long knew enough Cambodian to understand when they were swearing at them.

When Hue returned, she found how quickly the welcome to her boys had worn out and immediately made arrangements with another family, her cousins, to take the boys in. Their house sat in the center of the ruins of other houses and shops at the outskirts of Phnom Penh. It belonged to the brother of the cousin whom they called Aunt Phai, who was working on plans to take people across Cambodia to escape through the border with Thailand. The boys watched and waited at a bridge over the Mekong River, along Highway 1 as it headed back toward Svay Rieng.  Trees, flowers and bamboo lined the Mekong River shores, but no boats came to pick them up and take them back toward the South China Sea.

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