Earlier this week, as my mom was driving me home, I asked her about where she and dad were, specifically, when they came to the United States. Instead, she told me everything.
Dad and his family left early, and by early I mean a week before everything went to shit. Dad stopped by mom's house but mom wasn't home so he left a forwarding address with Ong. Dad had siblings already in Germany so even though he hadn't a clue where he was going to be in the United States, any letter sent to the address in Germany would surely be forwarded to him. Because dad left early, he and his family flew out. Mom put the slip of paper in her pocket and promptly forgot all about it.
A few days later, mom and her sisters packed up, said farewell to Ong and Ba who refused to leave and set off for the airport. Upon arrival, they found that the airport had been bombed so they turned around with heavy hearts. At home, Ong and Ba finally decided to flee. So despite the curfew that had been placed on the town, they packed up, one bag each, and headed for the coast in the dead of the night, each family member on their own scooter. When they got there, they abandoned the scooters on the sand and were rowed out to an enormous tanker. They had to climb a ladder to the top of the ship. It was so long and tedious, that in getting up and helping Ong and Ba, they lost all their belongings and ended up leaving with just the clothes on their back.
Mom ended up at a camp in Indiana/Illinois. She applied to go to school in Dallas on a scholarship, which she eventually received. So while her family set up in New Jersey, mom flew out to Texas. Two weeks into the program, she received word that Ong was having health complications and flew back. Ong passed a few weeks later.
Around this time, mom found the slip of paper in her pocket
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