En Route To Colorado Springs
Saturday, May 24, 2008
It's a little bit before 5am and I am sitting here at the San Jose airport. My mom and I left the house at 3am to get here, so it will probably come as no surprise to you when I say that we had no sleep last night. The two of us are very tired, but we are content in knowing that we saved $200 by flying out of San Jose instead of SFO.
My mom and I are en route to Colorado Springs to visit the Tostanoskis, the family who sponsored us when we were Vietnamese refugees in the United States back in 1975. I never thought I would ever return to this Rocky Mountain state, but something magical happened two months ago when my mom and I traveled to Vietnam. I am now on a mission to learn everything I possibly can about my family history, and the Tostanoskis hold many of the missing pieces to this giant puzzle. I will be conducting oral histories on Ba Ski (that's the moniker by which we called Mrs. Tostonaski), the matriarch, and her two sons, Mike and Will. Unfortunately, the Tostanoski daughter, Irene, lives in Virginia, so I will not be able to meet with her. I am a bit saddened by this because from what my mother has told me over the past 33 years, Irene is the first girl I ever fell in love with! As for the patriarch of this family, I would have loved to talk to Mr. Tostonaski (Ong Ski in Vietnamese), but regretfully he passed away last year. I have a hunch that this trip will be another tear jerker for my mom, so I will have to mentally prepare myself for any sudden emotional outbreaks. I had a lot of practice in Vietnam, so I think I'll be ok.
We're going to be boarding pretty soon, so I will need to pack up my MacBook Pro. I just took a very unflattering snap shot of my mom snoozing, but I decided not to post it. This woman gave me life, and she could very easily take it away, so I figured I better play it safe and make sure she looks good in my blog. Hence, I am posting a vintage picture of her, circa 1975 in Colorado Springs.
228 Cunningham Drive
Saturday, May 24, 2008
We made it into Colorado Springs a little after noon. Waiting at the gate was Ba Ski. When my mom made eye contact with her, the two of them smiled and hugged. They embraced each other for a few seconds. I had to start walking so that they would break up the hug and follow me. After picking up our bags, Ba Ski drove us back to the house.
When she pulled up into the driveway, my mom looked out of the window and just stared straight ahead. Returning to the house where her life in America first began overwhelmed her. My mother had to pause to take a deep breath. Ba Ski then announced that we had arrived, and the three of us got out and moved towards the front door. My mom immediately noticed the front porch and nostalgically muttered, "228 Cunningham Drive. It's still the same." Ba Ski put her arm around my mom's shoulders and the two of them entered the house. I realized at that point that this weekend was probably going to be as emotionally charged as our trip to Vietnam back in March.
Viet Refugees Recall Ordeal
Saturday, May 24, 2008
The Colorado Springs Gazette ran a story on my family's escape from Vietnam back in 1975. Both my mom and Ba Ski kept a copy of this article. I've seen this document before, but this was the first time I actually read it all the way through with my mother sitting by my side. This article gives the chronology of our ordeal from the point when Saigon fell to when we made it to the United States, first at a refugee camp in Pennsylvania and then in Colorado Springs with our sponsor family, the Tostonaskis.
Viet Refugee Recalls Ordeal
By Gene Birkhead
Staff Writer
Most Vietnamese refugees left their country just one step ahead of the Communist forces that overran the Saigon area in the last days of April. Not so for Nguyen Thanh Nguyen. He and his family decided to try to escape only after they saw what life under the Communists was like. They suffered imprisonment and risked death at sea to find freedom, but their story has almost a fairy tale ending.
Nguyen, who came to Colorado Springs Nov. 8 under sponsorship of Bill Tostanoski of Security, was general manager of a Saigon printing company employing 600 persons. He had no intention of leaving his homeland, believing the Communist promises that citizens would not be oppressed. "They were lying," he said. It was not long before citizens' homes were being commandeered by Communist cadres, and people were being required to get official permission to buy even such foods as chickens.
Late in May, Nguyen, his wife Yen Bach Nguyen and their five children, ranging in age from 3 to 13, made their first attempt to escape. They drove to Vung Tau, a seaport about 93 miles from Saigon hoping to slip out by boat. But a full moon made this impossible and they had to return to Saigon. A day or two later they drove to Ca Na, about 372 miles from Saigon, where they boarded a fishing boat with 45 other Vietnamese trying to escape. Once at sea they met a fishing boat from Taiwan, but the boat refused to take them on. They were soon in such rough seas that about 24 children aboard became ill, and the boat had to return to shore. Because of the Communist threat they were transferred to smaller boats. The family was put ashore at a small village and were immediately arrested by the Communists.
They were imprisoned for three days with only rice and water for food. Nguyen said the Communists who questioned them were illiterate. They were looking only for American money or gold and missed the significance of the plastic bag he was carrying with the names and addresses of a number of Americans. They took his watch, his camera and his electric razor, which they apparently were unfamiliar with. He overheard them speculating that it might be some kind of bomb. However, the Communists eventually let them go. If they had found American money or gold, Nguyen is sure they would still be in prison.
It was now June 5. Again they returned to Saigon, but knew they must make their escape because they were now under suspicion. On June 12, they again went to Ca Na and boarded another fishing boat with a group of refugees, hoping to sail to the Philippines. Nguyen said they knew nothing about navigation, but set the compass at 90 degrees, hoping that was the right direction.
"We don't know nothing, just pray," Nguyen said.
They were at sea for five days and six nights. They had fish and some rice to eat, but their water ran out and the youngest child, Quang Khoi, three became ill. Nguyen said they believed the child was near death, when early in the morning of June 18 they sighted a Danish ocean freighter of the Maersk Shipping Co.
"We prayed to God for this ship to stop and rescue us," Nguyen said. The ship did stop and took them without hesitation. He had nothing but praise the kindness of the Danish crew. They not only took the family aboard, but the captain immediately informed his home office of the rescue, and asked them to get in touch with the Japanese consulate to see if the refugees could be landed in Japan. The ship was headed for Nayaya, and the Japan had so far refused to allow any Vietnamese refugees in that country. Permission was granted for them to disembark at Jokahama, where they were put under the care of the Japanese Caritas, Catholic Charity organization. They were not only the first Vietnamese refugees to be allowed to enter Japan, they also found themselves celebrities. Japanese television featured their arrival on all channels, the cameramen flying over the ship by helicopter to film the event. The Japanese newspapers also carried the story with many pictures of the family.
Nguyen had left Saigon with a number of American names and addresses carried in a plastic bag, but during the voyage in the fishing vessel the package had gotten wet and the ink had run, obliterating them. The only one that could be read was a printed returned address label on a letter from Bill Tostanoski, who had done some business with Nguyen's firm in Vietnam. It was this scrap of paper that brought the family to Colorado Springs.
The family remained in Japan until the end of October, when they were given permission to enter the United States and were sent to Indiantown Gap, PA. Nguyens' first attempt to reach Tostanoski found him out of the country on business, but Mrs. Tostanoski was able to reach him and a sponsorship was arranged. Tostanoski, whose work frequently takes him to the Far East and other parts of the world, was back for Christmas, and the two families had a gala holiday.
Nguyen has served as an interpreter for the Vietnamese Resettlement Committee since coming here, but his quest for permanent employment took an unusual turn. He had written a letter to McKinney Mohler Maersk, president of the Maersk Steamship Co., in Denmark, thanking him for the rescue of his family. Back came a letter from Maersk saying he was getting in touch with the New York and San Francisco offices of the company to see if either could offer Nguyen employment. Shortly afterward, he was called for an interview with the San Francisco office, and was asked to report for work there Jan. 2.
"They not only save my life, they give me a job," Nguyen said. "The free world is so wonderful."
Amazingly enough, a Maersk Line crew member managed to snap this shot of my parents a few days after we were rescued. We were on that Danish cargo ship for 10 days.
This Altitude Is Killing Me
Sunday, May 25, 2008
I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. My head hurt, my muscle ached, and my lungs felt deflated. Flu like symptoms hit me like a ton of bricks, and I feared the worst. The last thing I needed was to be bedridden in Colorado. Coincidentally enough, my mom had the exact same symptoms. The two of us commiserated for a bit before coming to the conclusion that it probably wasn't a viral attack that knocked us both out, but rather the Rocky Mountain altitude. I really didn't think that being 6000 feet up would have such an intense effect on me, but it did. At least I didn't have the flu.
My mom and I got up early so that we could attend morning mass at St. Raphael Episcopal Church. To our surprise, we were asked to approach the front of the congregation to be blessed. This was definitely something I wasn't used to. Ba Ski led us up to the altar, introduced us to the congregation, and briefly told everyone the story of how we entered her family's lives. Neither my mom nor I was prepared for this unexpected presentation, but we handled ourselves very well, considering how woozy we were from the altitude change.After mass, Ba Ski invited a few family and friends over to the house for a late lunch. On the guest list were her two sons and their families, and the Tostanoskis' long time friends, the Souzas. The reunion proved to be quite overwhelming for my mother. The Tostanoski boys looked much more mature, as did Bud and Betsy Souza. My mom had to take a time out to process the fact that 33 years had passed and that the people who stood in front of her may not have been the same people she remembered. Fortunately, any anxiety that she may have had was quickly dissolved when these folks happily approached her.
My mom was first greeted by the Souzas. I didn't know this, but this couple helped my family a great deal when we arrived in Colorado. When Mr. Souza entered the room, my mom pointed to him and blurted out "you helped Peter and me buy a car!" What an ice breaker. My mom may not have the best of memories, but she remembers every act of kindness that everyone has ever done for her, and the Souzas did just that.
Next to approach my mom was Will, the younger of the two Tostanoski boys. Will arrived at the house with his wife Mary and three boys first. My mom reintroduced herself, which was a very surreal moment, as Will was just a 13 year old kid when she last saw him. He greeted my mom with a big hug. Shortly after, Mike and his family arrived, and we all gathered around the table and told stories of yesteryear. For me, it was a good lesson in history, since I have no memory of living in Colorado Springs in 1975. Listening to my mom, Ba Ski, Mike, Will, and the Souzas helped bring clarity to the fragmented anecdotes that my mom has told me about our early days in America over the years. It also helped that I brought the old family photo albums for everyone to peruse through.
It certainly did not take long for everyone to get comfortable with each other. In fact, we were laughing so hard that at times I thought I was going to need an oxygen tank to catch my breath. This actually wouldn't have been a bad idea, considering that I was gasping for air every six minutes due to the altitude! I do believe that my mom was a little nervous at first, and I have to admit that I was too. Initially, the two of us felt like we didn't fit in, but that feeling quickly went away.
I think the turning point was when Mike and Will recounted stories of the mischief they caused as teenagers and how their mom dealt with it. Mike chuckled when he told the story of how one night his mom was so mad that she threw a glass cup across the table at him. Luckily, he ducked, but the glass did make a significant dent in the wall. On another occasion, he recalled his mom being so angry that she threw a pot of hot spaghetti onto the kitchen floor and then unleashed a four letter expletive. The funniest story of them all was the one where Ba Ski hit him with a wooden spoon so hard that it broke in half. What makes this anecdote so amusing is the fact that Mike darted out of the dining room, ran to the kitchen, and returned with that same exact broken wooden spoon! Apparently, Ba Ski kept it for prosperity.Once I caught my breath from all the laughter, I explained to everyone that it was difficult for me to believe these stories because, in my mind, Ba Ski will forever be the guardian angel who rescued my family. My vision of her is of a saint, and all the talk about her spewing out four letter words and throwing objects at her kids was very difficult to digest! I didn't believe any of it, but both Mike and Will were adamant in convincing me. Even after Ba Ski verified that the stories were indeed true, I still refused to believe it--that is, until I witnessed it with my own eyes and ears.
Since Will and Mike were having a field day with stories about their mother, I felt inclined to jump on to the mom bashing bandwagon. I told the group of the time my mom took a fall and landed face down on the concrete. When she called the hospital and talked to the ER nurse, she got a little flustered and stumbled on some words. She explained to the nurse that her English wasn't that good and that she didn't remember the right vocabulary. The nurse assured her that it was ok and to try to do her best to explain what happened. My mother then responded, "Uh...I fall on my...my...boob. I have big boobs. I fall on top of them, so I don't think I break any bones." The nurse followed up with a simple, "Ah, I see. You fell on your chest." My mom couldn't leave well enough alone and replied, "No, I fell on my boob!"This story garnered a lot of laughs from the table, but we all really lost it when Ba Ski spat out the punch line of the night: "I thought you were going to say that your mom fell on her tits." At that point I completely lost it. Tits. I couldn't believe that four letter word actually came out of the Saint's mouth! It was at that moment that Ba Ski became humanized in my eyes.
Before we knew it, 10pm crept up on us. We were having so much fun that we completely lost track of time. Ba Ski thanked everyone for coming and packed up the leftovers for her guests. My mom gave hugs to Mike, Will, their families, and the Souzas, and everyone went on their way. A little bit later, as my mom was preparing for bed, she revealed to me that for the past 33 years, she always felt guilty for disrupting the lives of these kind people, especially the kids. My mom always felt that the Tostanoski children resented her for taking away their freedom. After this evening, however, she felt a sense of ease. I told her that the first thing I asked Will was what it was like having this Vietnamese family live in his parents' basement and he responded that it was actually fun having all those kids around and that it was just another day in the life of the Tostanoskis. Had Will told my mom that in 1975, she probably would not have believed it. She does now, and that's the closure that she needed.
Oral History
Sunday, May 25, 2008
I consider this trip to Colorado Springs as Vietnam Part II. I learned so much about my family history by returning to the place where it all began, that I felt it was imperative to continue the education. I am glad that my mother was able to come along with me. At times, it was difficult for her to revisit the past, as it was in Vietnam, but my mom kept her composure. In fact, going back in time has been a good exercise in finding clarity for my mother. I really didn't know how my mom was going to react to me conducting oral histories on Ba Ski, but she handled the sessions very well. In fact, she even contributed to some of the discussions. Below is an excerpt of Ba Ski recalling the first time she met my family at the airport back in 1975. This interview actually made my mom smile.
Me & Irene
Sunday, May 25, 2008
I have no memory of my early years in Colorado Springs. Though I was physically there in 1975, I had to synthetically create these memories using the stories that my mom has told over the years and pictures from the old family photo albums. The one picture that has always stood out for me is the one of me with Irene, Mike and Will's older sister. Though I have no memory of Irene, growing up I always felt some sort of spiritual connection with her, based on my mother's endearing stories.
My mom remembers Irene as the young woman who loved the little kid who lived downstairs. Every morning, little Quang Khoi would hear Irene leave for work and he would run upstairs to give her a big hug. Apparently, every time Irene left, Quang Khoi would be very sad. I really don't know how much of these stories have been romanticized by my mom, but I do know that for the past 33 years, I've always had the utmost respect for Irene Tostanoski. Therefore, it came as no surprise that when Mike started to tell not so flattering tales of his sister, I immediately defended her and insisted that we could not continue the discussion because A) she was not there to defend herself, and B) I could not have her immaculate Virgin Mary-esque reputation tainted. Everyone burst into laughter. Mike then went down the laundry list of Irene's less than immaculate doings, but I turned away and tuned him out. I was not going to have my memories of Irene, albeit synthetically created ones, shattered!
The Chronology
Monday, May 26, 2008
I sat with Ba Ski for hours recording every story that Ba Ski had to share. My mom sat near by and listened as well. At times, my mom would interject comments and historical background. My interview soon turned into a conversation between my mom and Ba Ski. Together, both of these women dug into their memory banks and pieced this puzzle together, and I was lucky enough to be able to absorb all the information. To put things in perspective, below is a chronology of the events leading up to the Nguyens meeting the Tostonaskis:
- May 21, 1975. Twenty days after the fall of South Viet Nam. We made our first attempt at escape but failed.
- June 12, 1975. Second attempt. After five days and six nights on the open sea, a Danish ocean freighter named Maersk Line of the Maersk Steamship Co., rescued us.
- June 26-27, 1975. We arrived in Mayaya, Japan. Because we were not authorized to enter Japan at this port, the Maersk Steamship Co. took us to Yokohama where the Japanese immigration allowed us to go ashore through the Japanese Caritas (Japanese Catholic Group), and the United Nations.
- November 1, 1975. We arrived in New York and were taken to Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania Refugee Camp. There, we were given a complete physical examination. Also, we filled out the necessary forms required by the United States government.
- November 6, 1975. We received final permission to go to our sponsor, Mr. Bill J. Tostanoski of Colorado Springs.
The Cookie Christmas Tree
My family arrived in Colorado Springs in November 1975, just in time for Thanksgiving. We definitely had a lot to be thankful for. We stayed with the Tostanoskis for a few months. When my dad was offered a job in San Francisco from Maersk Steamship Co., the Danish company whose cargo vessel rescued us, the Tostonaskis helped prepare us for the transition to our new lives in California. I asked Ba Ski what her fondest memory of those few months in 1975 was, and she happily said spending Christmas with our family. She then launched into a detailed account of creating "The Christmas Cookie Tree," the little treat that brought everyone together. As she reminisced, I couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgia, even though I have absolutely no memory of that experience.
America The Beautiful
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
This is what happens when one has been sequestered for three days in a Rocky Mountain cabin:
Kidding. Well, not completely. My mom and I did spend the past couple of days sequestered in the Rocky Mountain cabin known as Chateau Tostanoski. I'm not complaining though. The past few days in that house have been invaluable. I do have to say, though, that it was awfully nice to get out and about and catch a breath of fresh air.
Ba Ski took my mom and I for a ride out to the Garden Of The Gods, a public park where "outstanding geologic features are the ancient sedimentary beds of red and white sandstones, conglomerates and limestone that were deposited horizontally, but have now been tilted vertically and faulted by the immense mountain building forces caused by the uplift of the Pikes Peak massif." (Wikipedia). This amazing site reminded me of my trip to Australia in 1997. The Garden Of The Gods is like the American version of Kata Tjuta, the group of rock formations in the Australian Outback that I climbed. Good times. We also got to catch of glimpse of Pikes Peak
Ba Ski, my mom, and I took a little bus tour of the park and learned of its history. I did not know that "America The Beautiful," was conceived on top of Pike's Peak. In 1893, Wellesley College English Professor, Katherine Lee Bates, took a wagon ride up Pikes Peak and was so inspired by the view at the top that she wrote the poem that ultimately became our country's national hymn. I have to admit, I can be a crudmugeon when it comes to nature, but I do have to say that the landscape impressed me. I wished that I could have gone up to Pikes Peak to really appreciate the spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain. I had already adjusted to the altitude, so what's another couple thousand feet? I did get a chance to snap some cool shots from below though.
After the bus tour, we returned to the visitor center to watch the movie on the history of the Garden Of The Gods and Pikes Peak. This film explained how the rocks were formed and it addressed Katherine Lee Bates' historic poem. After the movie ended, Ba Ski got up in front of the crowd and announced that for the centennial anniversary of "America The Beautiful," her choir traveled to the top of Pikes Peak and proudly sang our nation's hymn. Everyone in the theater applauded. Ba Ski then turned to my mother and said, "Here we are. This is where you started your life in America." I had to think about that statement for a second, but she was absolutely right. Here we were, on Memorial Day weekend, in Colorado Springs with the person who sponsored us when we first immigrated to this country. I couldn't really help it, but I found myself humming "America The Beautiful" in my head all the way home.
1975
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It's nice to be back at sea level. Being 6000 feet up was a little bit too much for me to handle. I did ultimately get used to the altitude, but it took two days. By the time I got adjusted, it was time to return to California.
I'd like to take this time to thank Ba Ski, Mike, Will, their families, the Souzas, and St. Raphael Episcopal Church for welcoming and opening themselves up to us. I learned so much about my mom, my family, and myself this weekend, thanks to these people. Like my journey to Vietnam, this trip to Colorado Springs put many things into perspective. Having my mom by my side for both excursions helped me understand who I am and where I came from. Heritage is so important, and I am so fortunate to have a mother who has kept accurate records of our lives, and is willing to pass on her knowledge and experience. It is now my job to pass on everything I learned to the next generations of our family.
1975 was a crazy year for the Tostanoskis and the Nguyens. It's still odd to me, and I don't think I will ever fully comprehend how our paths met. It just happened. For me to say that I am grateful to both the Tostanoskis and my parents would be a gross understatement, but I am. I would like to add that everyone kept making reference to the year 1975 this weekend. As I sat on the plane, I did the math and came to the conclusion that in 1975, my mom was in her mid thirties, which is the age bracket that I am in today. My concerns in life seem so trivial, like whether I would have internet access at the airport or if Starbucks would run out of Splenda for my venti green tea lemonade. Her life at 35 was much different than what mine is like today. Talk about putting things into perspective.
Ong Ski
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
I'd like to take this time to pay tribute to the man who paved the way for my family in America, Mr. Bill J. Tostanoski, a.k.a. "Ong Ski." I am sad that I was not able to see and talk to him about his history with my family. Ong Ski changed the course of my family's lives forever, and I just wish that I could have had the chance to thank him in person. This gesture is now belated, but it's still very important for me to get this message out: THANK YOU, Mr. Tostanoski. Just know that every member of my family will always remember you fondly. Rest in peace.
My family arrived in Colorado Springs in November 1975, just in time for Thanksgiving. We definitely had a lot to be thankful for. We stayed with the Tostanoskis for a few months. When my dad was offered a job in San Francisco from Maersk Steamship Co., the Danish company whose cargo vessel rescued us, the Tostonaskis helped prepare us for the transition to our new lives in California. I asked Ba Ski what her fondest memory of those few months in 1975 was, and she happily said spending Christmas with our family. She then launched into a detailed account of creating "The Christmas Cookie Tree," the little treat that brought everyone together. As she reminisced, I couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgia, even though I have absolutely no memory of that experience.
America The Beautiful
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
This is what happens when one has been sequestered for three days in a Rocky Mountain cabin:
Kidding. Well, not completely. My mom and I did spend the past couple of days sequestered in the Rocky Mountain cabin known as Chateau Tostanoski. I'm not complaining though. The past few days in that house have been invaluable. I do have to say, though, that it was awfully nice to get out and about and catch a breath of fresh air.
Ba Ski took my mom and I for a ride out to the Garden Of The Gods, a public park where "outstanding geologic features are the ancient sedimentary beds of red and white sandstones, conglomerates and limestone that were deposited horizontally, but have now been tilted vertically and faulted by the immense mountain building forces caused by the uplift of the Pikes Peak massif." (Wikipedia). This amazing site reminded me of my trip to Australia in 1997. The Garden Of The Gods is like the American version of Kata Tjuta, the group of rock formations in the Australian Outback that I climbed. Good times. We also got to catch of glimpse of Pikes Peak
Ba Ski, my mom, and I took a little bus tour of the park and learned of its history. I did not know that "America The Beautiful," was conceived on top of Pike's Peak. In 1893, Wellesley College English Professor, Katherine Lee Bates, took a wagon ride up Pikes Peak and was so inspired by the view at the top that she wrote the poem that ultimately became our country's national hymn. I have to admit, I can be a crudmugeon when it comes to nature, but I do have to say that the landscape impressed me. I wished that I could have gone up to Pikes Peak to really appreciate the spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain. I had already adjusted to the altitude, so what's another couple thousand feet? I did get a chance to snap some cool shots from below though.
After the bus tour, we returned to the visitor center to watch the movie on the history of the Garden Of The Gods and Pikes Peak. This film explained how the rocks were formed and it addressed Katherine Lee Bates' historic poem. After the movie ended, Ba Ski got up in front of the crowd and announced that for the centennial anniversary of "America The Beautiful," her choir traveled to the top of Pikes Peak and proudly sang our nation's hymn. Everyone in the theater applauded. Ba Ski then turned to my mother and said, "Here we are. This is where you started your life in America." I had to think about that statement for a second, but she was absolutely right. Here we were, on Memorial Day weekend, in Colorado Springs with the person who sponsored us when we first immigrated to this country. I couldn't really help it, but I found myself humming "America The Beautiful" in my head all the way home.
1975
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It's nice to be back at sea level. Being 6000 feet up was a little bit too much for me to handle. I did ultimately get used to the altitude, but it took two days. By the time I got adjusted, it was time to return to California.
I'd like to take this time to thank Ba Ski, Mike, Will, their families, the Souzas, and St. Raphael Episcopal Church for welcoming and opening themselves up to us. I learned so much about my mom, my family, and myself this weekend, thanks to these people. Like my journey to Vietnam, this trip to Colorado Springs put many things into perspective. Having my mom by my side for both excursions helped me understand who I am and where I came from. Heritage is so important, and I am so fortunate to have a mother who has kept accurate records of our lives, and is willing to pass on her knowledge and experience. It is now my job to pass on everything I learned to the next generations of our family.
1975 was a crazy year for the Tostanoskis and the Nguyens. It's still odd to me, and I don't think I will ever fully comprehend how our paths met. It just happened. For me to say that I am grateful to both the Tostanoskis and my parents would be a gross understatement, but I am. I would like to add that everyone kept making reference to the year 1975 this weekend. As I sat on the plane, I did the math and came to the conclusion that in 1975, my mom was in her mid thirties, which is the age bracket that I am in today. My concerns in life seem so trivial, like whether I would have internet access at the airport or if Starbucks would run out of Splenda for my venti green tea lemonade. Her life at 35 was much different than what mine is like today. Talk about putting things into perspective.
Ong Ski
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
I'd like to take this time to pay tribute to the man who paved the way for my family in America, Mr. Bill J. Tostanoski, a.k.a. "Ong Ski." I am sad that I was not able to see and talk to him about his history with my family. Ong Ski changed the course of my family's lives forever, and I just wish that I could have had the chance to thank him in person. This gesture is now belated, but it's still very important for me to get this message out: THANK YOU, Mr. Tostanoski. Just know that every member of my family will always remember you fondly. Rest in peace.
The Daily Journal Obituary
September 27, 2007
Bill J. Tostanoski died Tuesday, Sept. 25, 2007 in Colorado Springs, Colo. Born July 23, 1923 in International Falls, Minn., Bill was the son of William and Alexandria Tostanoski.
He is survived by his wife Helen; daughter Irene and her family Michael, Nick, Sadie and Luke; son Michael and his family Vicki, Teddi and Andi; son Will and his family Mary, Torin, Sean and Bohdan; sister Mary Berg and many nieces and nephews.
Bill proudly served his country during World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War. He served in the U.S. Marine Corp. from 1942 to 1945 and the USMC Reserves from 1948 to 1950. He worked for Northwest Airlines while in the reserves. He returned to active duty in 1950 in the USAF and retired as a Chief Master Sergeant in 1971. After his Air Force retirement Bill continued to work in Southeast Asia and Iran, marketing oil analysis products and processes.
Throughout his travels he made many life-long friends and will always be remembered for his wit and quick smile; his love of music; his remarkable ability to play harmonica, violin, mandolin and piano; his willingness to lend a hand to someone less fortunate; and his unfailing Christian faith.
Bill’s family sends thanks to the many caregivers and volunteers at the Pike’s Peak Hospice for their compassionate and loving care during his illness. Thanks also to the many friends and the church family by his side.
In lieu of flowers, contributions in Bill’s memory can be made to the Pike’s Peak Hospice, 825 E. Pikes Peak Ave. Suite 600, Colorado Springs, CO 80903 or St. Raphael Episcopal Church, 802 Leta Drive, Security, CO 80911.
A funeral mass will be said at 2 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 29, at St. Raphael Episcopal Church to celebrate Bill’s life.
