Tell My Story

I'm back in Seattle now, enjoying a spot of sunshine in an otherwise very wet day and trying to decide if it violates some sort of basic blog rule if I keep posting these entries after my travels are done. But given that we crammed about forty days' worth of activities into a nine-day trip, I'm giving myself permission. And so... I'll continue to tell my story.

I'll begin with a long-neglected introduction.

Who was David Warner?

Water-skier, ravine-climber, pond-paddler, snow-skier, motorcycle-rider, smallest kid on the football team.

Ayn Rand reader, philosophizer, music-lover, photographer.

Mischief-maker, sister-provoker, quick-witted, kind-hearted, risk-taker.

Honest, funny, Eagle Scout, generous, savvy, brave, wry, tender at the bone.

First-born, devoted son, loyal friend, loving boyfriend, and One Awesome Big Brother.

Dave volunteered for the Marine Corps and he served well. He wanted to go to Vietnam - first for personal reasons (in one of his tapes home he explains, "I figure if you're ever going to learn about yourself, that's where it's going to be and your true beliefs are going to come out there.") There were other reasons -- political, pragmatic, economic -- but ultimately, as he said, "I have confidence in my own ability."

Those who were in Vietnam with him describe him as a good mentor, good leader, good friend, always willing to listen, always willing to serve.

Four years ago I made a promise. On that first trip to Hue City Chuck Meadows, my brother's former commanding officer, took me to the area where Dave lost his life. Standing at the edge of a shimmering, vibrant green rice paddy that day, I had an unexpected and profound sense of my brother's presence. It was as though he said two things: "I've been waiting for you," and "Tell my story."

And so I have, and so I will: in words, with a little school in A Xing, and by trying my best to spend my days as he might have done -- "living in color and laughing out loud." (Shawn Colvin)

The Butterfly Forest

It was set to be another stiflingly hot, muggy day in Dong Ha as we headed to the Danaan Perry Landmine Education Center (LEC for short). The van bumped down a rutted, red-dirt road and turned into a tree-lined driveway. Another few hundred yards and the air became cooler, sweeter, greener... and there we were.

We met with landmine victims that day, including Hoa, whose story and photo appeared in an earlier entry. We also had the chance to plant trees.

A forested park is no small thing in Quang Tri Province -- especially a safe forested park. The LEC sits on acres of land cleared of UXO. Past PeaceTrees travelers have planted thousands of trees, the oldest ones now easily ten times our height. Children come here from around the province for a weekend of fun and landmine education. In May the park will be filled with 400-500 young campers competing in artwork contests, looking at wooden models of dangerous ordnance, talking with landmine victims, playing games. Like a safe forest, a camping trip is no small thing in Quang Tri Province. It will be a great weekend for the kids.

Most of the trees in the park are acacias, planted when they were waist-high saplings. We planted taller trees that day, hardwoods. I liked the sense of permanence in their strong trunks and smooth bark. We planted on a slope that dipped down to a muddy stream where we filled our watering cans. Working alongside our Vietnamese PeaceTrees partners we added seventy trees to the forest, including several planted in remembrance of friends and family members.

For me, our tree-planting both honored the past and celebrated the future. As the trees grow, their roots will keep them grounded and their branches will stretch toward the sun. I like to think my own growth in Vietnam has been much the same.

Call it coincidence, but on my prior trips small yellow butterflies have made some uncanny cameo appearances. They have consistently shown up at moments of significance or remembrance. Even on this trip, a yellow butterfly flew right alongside my window for several minutes as our plane taxied to the terminal at Hue/PhuBai airport, my personal welcoming committee. So it seemed fitting that as we planted and dedicated new trees we were kept company by dozens of butterflies -- not just yellow ones this time, but orange, iridescent blue, black, striped, spotted... like winged works of art. It felt as though what had once symbolized remembrance now represented a joyful future. One of our travelers christened the place "the Butterfly Forest," and the name stuck. I hope our little grove will welcome Vietnamese children for many generations to come.

When I got back to the hotel that night, Hoa -- the landmine survivor -- had sent me an email. It said simply, "Dear Miss Sue: Today I am very happy."

Dear Hoa: Today, so am I.

Dong Ha Doings

With all the excitement on Saturday I was just a little concerned that the next part of the trip might be anticlimactic. I needn't have been.

The past few days have been full, as evidenced by the lack of updates.

Sunday we took in some of Quang Tri's better-known tourist sites, visiting the Vinh Moc Tunnels and Ben Hai River Bridge, swimming and lunching at Cua Tung beach, and paying our respects at the Truong Son Cemetery, the Arlington of (North) Vietnam. Details are readily available via "the Google," so I'll spare them here. We bade farewell that evening to our friends from the Quang Tri Department of Foreign Affairs and the head of the Women's Union, packed our bags and got an abbreviated night's sleep... up early the next morning and off to Hue City.

Much more to share about Hue, Hanoi, tree-planting, and what it all means, but my flight's departing in just few minutes. Stay tuned!

Growing and Thriving

Two years ago today we dedicated the David Warner Kindergarten, on what would have been Dave's sixty-first birthday. It's the present that keeps on giving: the school is thriving and fifty happy children attend every day.

Pulling up to the front gate I initially didn't recognize the place -- the trees we planted in March 2007 have grown into a beautiful, shady grove.

Friends and neighbors were waiting on the front steps when we arrived, and the kids were ready to receive us with very enthusiastically-performed songs.


The atmosphere in the classroom is dynamic and happy; the yellow walls are covered in learning aids, decorations, and student artwork.

We stopped for gift-giving and picture-taking, then said our good-byes... till next time.



Happy birthday, David. You'll be glad to know that your kids are doing just fine.

Dedication Day

Just a quick update before my head hits the pillow.

Today - March 21 in Vietnam - we had the joy and honor of dedicating the Jesse Griego Kindergarten in a little village called A Xing, populated by Van Kieu and Pa Co ethnic minority people.


Nearly 200 children and adults were waiting when we arrived and welcomed us warmly. Various community and provincial dignitaries gave their speeches, and then Jim shared a few words - eloquent and straight from the heart. Some of the new Kindergartners performed songs and dances (enjoyed by all, and much too cute for words). And finally, Jim and the other speakers went to the wall of the school and unveiled the dedication plaque.

We shared lunch with the dignitaries -- A Xing home cooking, eaten with hands and/or chopsticks, sharing a common jug of rice hooch, seated on floor mats in the new classroom (I keep reminding myself that any food prepared with love has to be good for me... but I did dodge the chicken feet). The rest of the village shared the celebratory meal outside. Next it was time to hand out sweets and presents to the many, many children who were there, and to present the Kindergarten teacher with bundles of supplies for the new classroom, generously donated by my friends from Southminster Presbyterian.

So many beautiful children, now with a brighter future. Jesse's life on earth was short, but thanks to Jim and the wonderful donors who contributed to the project, his legacy will last for a long, long time.

Here's to Jesse, and here's to Jim.
Semper Fi.

Visiting Mrs. Thu

We spent most of yesterday in a small village south of Dong Ha visiting recipients of microcredit loans. A long-time PeaceTrees partner, the Quang Tri Province Women's Union, manages the program. Each $200 low-interest loan goes to a woman-headed family (the women may be married, but have primary responsibility for the day-to-day operation of the household). By investing in a pig, or a cow, or a sewing machine, these women have managed to significantly increase their family incomes.

One stop was at the tailor's. Last August she was given a microcredit loan that enabled her to purchase two sewing machines. She and her daughter set up shop. Within a few months they made enough to purchase a serger. Now they run a successful business: their monthly income has increased from $60 to $100, and it's still growing.






Outside the tailor's shop, by the way, Jim was making friends with about 30 village schoolkids. They practiced their English and he practiced his Vietnamese, and the laughter was gloriously bi-lingual.



We also had the joy of meeting a pig farmer and her mother-in-law. They welcomed us warmly into their home, poured us cups of tea, talked about their family and about the pig-rearing business. The mother-in-law, Mrs. Thu, didn't speak much - but her 73-year-old face glowed with kindness. Her hug made my day. That's Mrs. Thu in the middle of the picture, being serious for the photo. What a privilege to meet her -- a little tiny woman with a great big heart. And how exciting to see the positive impact of the loans: a little bit of money, but a great big impact on the lives of the recipients.

The Happiest Place on Earth

This morning we visited an incredibly happy PeaceTrees Friendship Village Kindergarten, located on the former U.S. Marine Corps base in Dong Ha. Cleared of ordnance, the old base is now a community of 100 homes, a small meeting hall, and a three-room kindergarten where we received a very enthusiastic welcome. The kids had worked up a few musical numbers -- here's a sampling:

The kids in this classroom were between two and four years old. The neighboring classroom had the older kids, who received us with equal enthusiasm and even higher decibels. They were also both awestruck and delighted by my friend Jim, and took to him right away:

Jim's the one with the green hat.

After lots of singing and present-giving and waving and "bye-byeing" we took a walk through the village. The houses are cement construction, three rooms each, with electricity and plumbing - a significant step up from the lean-tos and one-room buildings where the families had previously lived. Residents are given use of the homes by PeaceTrees; if they stay for ten years, they are then given ownership. Access to good housing and schools has created economic opportunities; we visited one man who built an addition on his house to accommodate a commercial rice-grinder and a pig sty. He is selling rice flour throughout the province, his children are doing well in school and the future looks promising. Living in Friendship Village was the jumpstart he needed for his family to prosper. Even the pigs looked happy!

Fast-forward to after lunch and the Danaan Perry Landmines Education Center. Children come here from all over the province to learn about the risks of unexploded ordnance (UXO) and how to avoid injury. We were privileged to meet with three land-mine victims; each has received assistance from PeaceTrees. One is a 45-year-old mother who lost both legs when a piece of ordnance exploded as she was digging in her garden. The other two are 18-year-old boys. All three are active in educating children about UXO.


The bomb that injured Nguyen Duc Hoa was being salvaged by a scrap metal dealer. Nguyen was five years old at the time. Now he is taking university entrance exams and hoping to major in economics; he also practices English at every opportunity.

Talking with the landmine victims was quite a contrast with this morning's smiling Kindergarteners, and a reminder of why we're here. Maybe someday the land in Quang Tri will be completely cleared of unexploded ordnance, and mothers and fathers and children will be able to garden, farm and play freely. Relatively speaking, that just might be the happiest place on earth.

Introducing Jim Lewis

Three degrees and forty-one years -- that's how Jim Lewis, my sister and I are connected. (That's my sister Marci Williams on the left and Jim in the middle; I'm on the right.)

Jim was a Marine with Golf Company, second batallion, fifth marines (G 2/5) in 1968. He served from early 1968 until autumn, when he was critically wounded. Actually, it's a wonder he survived. But that's a story Jim can tell another day.

Once mended Jim started down an unlikely hopscotch of a career path... police officer, helicopter pilot, stuntman, actor, Hollywood cameraman. Now retired and living in Florida, he occasionally attends G2/5 events. That, of course, was how we met -- in September of 2007, at the Washington D.C. retirement ceremony for former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Peter Pace (also a G 2/5 veteran).

As I've gotten to know Jim over the past 17 months I have come to appreciate his integrity, his his creative energy, his capacity to be amazed, his humor, and his compassion.

When I met Jim what I didn't know were the intricacies of how we were connected. My brother David was a squad leader in Hue City. David's fire team leader was a fine Marine by the name of Billy Tant. When Dave was killed, Billy Tant took over as squad leader. Some weeks later Jim arrived. He became Billy's fire team leader. When Billy was promoted, Jim became squad leader... for me, it's kind of like an inheritance from Dave.

Continuing with the connect-the-dots exercise, a young man named Jesse Griego also served with Dave and Billy Tant in Hue, and later became close friends with Jim. Jesse was killed on July 16, 1968; the new Kindergarten in A Xing has been built in his honor through Jim's fundraising efforts.

Now really, what's the likelihood that all these threads would come together after so many years? As a friend says, "when I stopped believing in miracles, the coincidences stopped happening." I delight in the "coincidences" of connections and of being here with Jim and the PeaceTrees delegation. And I wait with great expectancy for the coincidences that surely lie ahead.

Great Expectations

"Show up. Pay attention. And don't be overly attached to the outcome." That was the message on Sunday morning and the timing couldn't have been better.

This is my third trip to Vietnam. The first was with some trepidation, the second with much anticipation. And this one? I'm wrestling with expectation: expectation of what our group will do, where we'll go, what we'll see, even what we'll feel. I want to approach this week with no preconceptions, no "been there, done that." In short: I want to show up and pay attention.

I arrived Hanoi late last night, got a good rest, and spent today walking through the old quarter and twice around Hoan Kiem Lake. From the hotel I strolled down skinny streets clogged with weaving motorbikes and crouching sidewalk vendors, wandered past stores specializing in everything from headboards to headstones, and finally reached the path around Hoan Kiem. The air was grey and heavy, traffic manic, and the lake a whisper-still sanctuary in the midst of it all. White-haired men and women practiced tai-chi at the water's edge; schoolgirls gossiped and giggled; twenty-somethings flexed their cell-phone texting muscles; and young couples sat entwined on the benches, oblivious to anything but each other. It all seemed familiar, yet at the same time completely wonderful and foreign and new.

Tomorrow morning we fly to Hue, then drive on to Dong Ha where we'll begin our work with PeaceTrees. I hope that my time there, too, will be both familiar and wonderfully new. May I have no expections... except, perhaps, the expectation that I can practice showing up and paying attention, knowing that whatever the outcome, it's going to be a great adventure.

The American School

The David Warner Kindergarten has been serving the village of A Xing for two years now. For the locals it's known simply as The American School, and it's doing good work.

Nutritious meals. This is an area where malnutrition is a very real problem. The school has a kitchen: Kindergartners get a nutritious lunch without having to go home mid-day. This also allows their parents to continue working (most are farmers, and may work some distance from the village). And the lunch program isn't limited to the Kindergartners: other parents bring their children to the school at lunch time, knowing that their little ones will get at least one healthy meal that day.

Landmine awareness. Unexploded ordnance (UXO) is a significant danger in the A Xing area. Trouble is, all the awareness materials were in Vietnamese... and many Montagnards in the region don't speak Vietnamese. The Kindergarten -- the first NGO project in this region -- brought the problem to light for PeaceTrees. They've secured a State Department grant to provide landmine awareness training to the local population in the local language. This is, quite literally, saving lives.

Preparation for successful schooling. Children in the A Xing area often speak only their tribal language. This puts them at a great disadvantage when they start primary school, which is conducted in Vietnamese. The Kindergarten gives them a running start at the unfamiliar language, and a chance at academic success.

I leave for Vietnam one week from tomorrow. I can't wait to get to A Xing and see our American School -- David's school -- and the good work that's being done.