On this day in 1975, people all over Saigon, listened intently to Armed Forces Radio. It was one song they were listening for on that hot muggy April day. Bags packed. Three days of food at the ready, they listened. When it came on, thousands of people who worked for the Americans scrambled to their pre-arranged pick up points. The song was White Christmas by Bing Crosby. One such point was the American Embassy. My wife Lynda and I sat transfixed to our little TV in our two room apartment on Los Higos in Alhambra. The iconic scene of the people scrambling up that ladder to the roof of the Embassy and those waiting on the ground, screaming, panicking, pushing and pulling one another for better position for escape. They were the ones who worked for the CIA, who knew they would be executed if they did not leave. Maids, cooks, drivers, interpreters, all levels of people who had worked for the biggest employer of Saigon, the United States government. And now the boss was leaving behind tanks, aircraft, artillery pieces of all sizes and small arms enough that the North Vietnamese would not have to buy weapons for years. Most importantly was the human misery that we were leaving behind on the ground. We just could not get them all out! And with his father not letting go of his little arm in that sad morass of unplanned chaos, my good friend Que miraculously made it out.

Here’s to you Que and the first wave of Vietnamese immigrants that made it out that day. Welcome home.

I re-visited Vietnam in 1995 as a sober man with eight years of consoling behind me. I was not prepared for what I saw. The people at that time under the age of 20 had no direct experience with the war. I found that the general population referred to it as the American War. And so it was. We invaded their country and dropped more bombs on them than we dropped on Europe during WW2. But I found the people loving to Americans. I found much needed personal forgiveness. I wrote Raw Man, to educate people about the war in Vietnam. Now, my generation is reaching their mid to late sixties. I hope that the young people of America are educated about this most important part of our collective history. Please watch the movie I am clipping to this post. It is educating and shows the passion and ignorance of people on both sides. It was truly a divided America that we lived in. I thank my good friends David Gebhard and Scott Seidman for sending me this link:

http://www.pbs.org/dick-cavett/home/

It is mid April and I feel that I have not been keeping up with my blog. Those of you who read Raw Man will be happy to know that I have started my second novel. Tentatively called The Road To Que. Experience has taught me that this is just a first draft working title. Raw Man was called Youth In Asia for eight years. The idea for the new work came to me in a flash, just as Raw Man did. It is exciting when this happens. I have the characters but I know their personalities will shape their dialog and characteristics as they come to life on the page. Just as Gordo and the Australians gave birth to themselves, the new ones will do the same thing. I am full of joy.

This novel is full of research. I have ten books and countless magazines and internet postings to read. I have interviews to do. This writing career has given new life to mine and I cherish it. My music career gave me great adventures and exotic places to visit. The writing is giving me the same so far.

Blessings,

Fred Rivera

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I was once overcome by staring into the darkness for too long. Now, I seek the light that abounds around me everyday.