We stayed up talking until 7am the next day. Ha brought out fishing gear, photos, books and things. She
showed me her old wedding band--it was just like mine. She asked if I wanted
it and said if I gave her mine, she'd give me hers. It
was a deal. When Brent left the room I told her if I'd known she
had a roommate, I never would've called her. She said,"I know,
that's why I didn't tell you".We discussed cycling, her
running days, and she often said how great Alexandria, Virginia was, and how great it was for cycling. She didn't like Fayetteville where she was living, and missed Alexandria. She'd lived there her first 13 years in the United States (her family were
Vietnamese refugees) and her two brothers, whom she hadn't seen since
her mother threw her out five years ago, still lived
there.
Ha's father was imprisoned after the fall of Saigon in 1975, and later executed as a political prisoner. She never met him. This French newspaper clipping shows her as the child, standing between her mother and sister, at the time of their rescue in 1980.
