This week marks the 50th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, an event that remains poignant in the memories of San Diegans who fled Vietnam during the tumultuous final days of the war.
For many, including Tawn Nguyen, who was just a child at the time, the recollections are vivid and haunting.
Nguyen was only 9 years old when North Vietnamese forces captured Saigon on April 30, 1975.
She, like many others, set out on a perilous journey, fleeing her home by boat and facing the open ocean with her family.
Tragically, during the escape, she was separated from her 6-year-old sister, and their reunion did not occur until months later at a refugee resettlement camp in Arkansas.
Phong Duong, another member of the local Vietnamese community, had a different experience; he and his family attempted to escape multiple times, ultimately facing setbacks due to his father’s ties to the South Vietnamese government.
In contrast, Kim-Trang Dang vividly recalls the dramatic scenes as refugees leapt from a small ferry onto a larger U.S. ship that had come to their rescue amidst the ocean chaos.
Some individuals fell between the vessels, highlighting the perilous nature of their escape.
“We tell (the story) to our children, grandchildren, and nieces — it’s crucial to remember what happened,” said Dang, now serving as president of the Vietnamese Community of San Diego.
“Many people could not make it, but we are lucky to have survived.”
As millions fled Vietnam to escape persecution following the fall of Saigon, San Diego County emerged as a significant refuge for these individuals.
Today, the area is home to approximately 55,000 Vietnamese Americans, forming one of the largest Vietnamese communities in the United States.
For many who escaped, sharing their memories serves as a crucial link to their heritage and a means to connect with younger generations.
“It’s a multigenerational story,” explained Duong, who is now the principal of Van Lang, San Diego’s Vietnamese language school, which has been in operation for 41 years.
“It’s important for the younger generation to understand our past to foster sympathy and appreciation for our heritage.”
In an effort to engage the community, particularly youth, several initiatives have emerged.
Recently, residents collaborated to create the House of Vietnam, located within the House of Pacific Relations International Cottages in Balboa Park.
There are also ongoing community efforts focused on providing financial assistance, mental health resources, and promoting civic participation.
However, the journey towards building this vibrant community has been long and fraught with hardship.
Following the fall of Saigon, over 100,000 Vietnamese refugees fled the country.
Many feared retribution from the North due to their associations with the American forces.
In subsequent years, additional individuals left, some escaping from government re-education camps established to eliminate opposition.
San Diego County played a critical role in these resettlement efforts, providing shelter to roughly 50,000 refugees at eight camps, including Camp Pendleton, one of four nationwide temporary centers for Southeast Asian refugees.
During the six months of operation in 1975, many refugees remained at the Camp Pendleton center for days or even months while they sought to reunite with family already in the U.S. or partnered with sponsors for resettlement elsewhere.
The center was equipped with schools for children and installed electricity for lighting and phone connections.
One noteworthy event during this time was a double wedding held at the base, where two couples celebrated their unions in a ceremony adorned with hand-sewn dresses and a donated cake.
Once the refugees moved out to establish new lives around the country, their desire to connect with fellow Vietnamese who had shared a similar traumatic journey became paramount.
Nguyen, whose family moved to San Diego in 1982 after seven years in Dallas, recalls that instinct.
“When you go to a Walmart and you hear Vietnamese, you rush to find that person because you want to connect,” she said.
Over time, the Vietnamese communities in Southern California evolved and expanded.
In San Diego, numerous families settled in neighborhoods such as City Heights and Linda Vista, later moving to areas like Mira Mesa.
Today, the Little Saigon business district along El Cajon Boulevard in City Heights is home to 76 Vietnamese-owned enterprises, according to Tram Lam, president of Little Saigon San Diego.
Some businesses, such as the restaurant Pho Hoa, have been community staples for decades.
The immigrant experience has varied significantly for many, especially concerning employment opportunities.
While some individuals held advanced degrees or skills in Vietnam, upon arriving in the U.S., many found themselves working in jobs for which they were overqualified.
This was true for Wesley Quach’s family, whose grandparents had owned a furniture store back home.
Upon arrival, they settled for factory work until they eventually managed to open their own business, Thoi Tan, in City Heights.
Quach notes that there is now a new wave of Vietnamese entrepreneurs making their mark in the region.
This growth has resulted in increased representation in various professions, including law and medicine, shifting from the earlier influx of primarily refugee families to newer immigrants seeking economic opportunities and political freedom.
Tri Luu, an attorney in Escondido who collaborates with the Vietnamese American Youth Alliance (VAYA) in San Diego, remarked on the evolving immigrant narrative.
He pointed out that newer arrivals often have a different relationship with the history surrounding the fall of Saigon.
For example, Lan Dang immigrated with his family in 1994 at the age of 11.
Although he wasn’t alive for the fall, he recalls life under continued Communist rule as indelibly marked in his memory.
“It’s not just a memory for me; it’s a scar,” he said of his experiences.
Dang acknowledges the challenge of bringing the community together, recognizing that there will always be differing perspectives on what Black April — the term many in the Vietnamese diaspora use for the fall of Saigon — means.
While some younger Vietnamese Americans, whose families fled in the 1990s, heard stories about Black April, many others did not.
Tram Lam, also from Little Saigon San Diego, shared her understanding based on her father’s reluctance to discuss his experiences combatting the North Vietnamese military.
Alan Tran, treasurer of VAYA, echoed this sentiment, saying that his parents, who immigrated before he was born, rarely spoke of their past, and he grew up feeling disconnected from his culture.
For the youth today, navigating this complex history can be daunting.
“It’s hard for young people to find a common understanding of this event,” Tran remarked, noting how personal family narratives can vary significantly.
Many young people cannot truly grasp the concept of losing one’s country.
In response to this challenge, the Van Lang language school has taken initiatives to bridge the generational gap.
Established in 1984 and run by volunteers, the school teaches Vietnamese to children and recently began offering classes for adults.
The curriculum integrates lessons on Vietnamese culture and history, providing context to the language being taught.
One recent project encouraged students to converse with their parents about their journeys from Vietnam and their feelings upon arrival in the U.S.
“This helps the younger generation connect with their heritage and understand their parents’ experiences,” Duong explained.
Other local organizations are tackling crucial community issues to further foster connections across generations.
VAYA has initiated programs to address the mental health needs of youth and is committed to breaking cultural stigmas surrounding mental health discussions.
Additionally, the organization Viet Voices is advocating for voter engagement, tenants’ rights, food justice, and honoring community members through initiatives like a garden at Central Avenue Park, established in memory of an elderly woman who lost her life there in 2023.
Jean-Huy Tran, the leader of the Viet Voices group, emphasizes the challenge of communicating with older community members who may distrust government due to their historical experiences.
However, he expresses concern for those members of his community who are struggling with issues like affordable housing.
“We’re trying to build a new home here in America,” he stated, reiterating that people did not leave their homeland only to endure difficult living conditions.
Tran believes that understanding the elders’ experiences is essential for healing and moving forward.
“Can we focus on how to make this a home and ensure that our voices matter to the government for resources?” he urged.
Ultimately, the challenge lies in balancing past history with current community needs as San Diego’s Vietnamese community continues to evolve.
image source from：https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/2025/04/27/how-the-fall-of-saigon-shapes-vietnamese-communities-and-bonds-in-san-diego-50-years-on/
