"In shock and acting on pure instinct, I tried to fly the helicopter. Unaware that my legs were gone, and focused on finding a landing spot, I struggled to press the pedals. At the same time, I tried to pull on the cyclic stick between my legs, which controls the rotor and almost certainly had stopped functioning. The RPG had knocked out our avionics system, so we couldn’t hear or talk to each other, and the cockpit was quickly filling with black smoke. We’re gonna get a compressor stall, I thought, knowing the number two engine must have sucked in debris from the explosion. We’re going to have a hydraulic failure. My mind was whirling, frantically trying to solve each new crisis."
How lucky the USA is to have this woman who has dedicated her life to public service!
Her childhood was all in Southeast Asia where her father met her mother while he was involved on behalf of the USA in the Vietnam war. Her father kept working in SE Asia and other countries (such as Indonesia) after the war.
"From a child’s perspective, this all seemed very simple: Americans were the ones who helped people in need, who opened their doors and took in refugees, who cared. I had the same feeling when my dad took us to see the U.S. diplomats cutting ribbons to open new hospitals and schools in Bangkok. I would eagerly tell other people in the crowd that my dad was American, and because of that, I was American. I still had never been to the United States, and wouldn’t get there for five more years. But these experiences marked the beginning of my deep feeling of patriotism for this country."
She was often teased by both her relatives and other children for being biracial. But she was one of the lucky ones.
"I was also very lucky that, unlike many others, I never had to find a way to prove that I was American. In 1982, when I was fourteen, President Reagan signed into law the Amerasian Immigration Act. This new law was aimed at allowing biracial children of U.S. servicemen—kids who were born in Korea, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, or Thailand since 1950, then abandoned by their fathers—to come to America. President Reagan called it “a major step of facing up to the moral responsibility which we can’t ignore.” He also said that “instead of saying ‘welcome’ to these children, we should say, ‘Welcome home.’”"
Eventually coming to America, her family’s life was on the edge of poverty
"“You need to go sign up for food stamps,” she said. “And you need to get the kids enrolled in school. They have subsidized lunch programs, so that will help.” When Dad told her we had been living in a hotel, she said, “No, no. You need to find yourselves an apartment.” But of course, we had no cash to pay the first month’s rent and the deposit, so what landlord would ever agree to rent to us? In one sickening instant, I understood how ordinary people became homeless: If you have no money, you can’t get an apartment. If you don’t have an apartment, you can’t get a job. You fall into a cycle that, once it starts, is nearly impossible to climb out of. And I realized with a sudden and frightening clarity that my own family was close to falling in."
"Without those subsidized meals, there’s no way I would have finished high school. I’d have had to drop out to find a way to feed myself and my family—and who knows where I might have ended up. Is it any wonder that today I’m a vocal defender of social safety net programs?"
Her journey from school to the military and then to government service was full of challenges. One has to admire her dedication and her determination to see beyond her own injuries to the challenges other veterans faced.
"Nearly ten years after the shootdown, I had phantom pain in my legs and could still feel burning on the soles of my nonexistent feet. My right arm was healed, though it had limited mobility. And although shrapnel pieces were no longer falling out of my skin, I still had dozens of metal bits embedded throughout my torso, arms, and face."
"All told, I would spend thirteen months recovering at Walter Reed, a length of time that made my recovery easier not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. If I had been thrown out into the world after a month or two, I would have had to deal with people’s stares, and the frustration of explaining over and over what had happened to me. Instead, I was in an environment where being an amputee was the norm, and everyone understood what everyone else was going through."
Even missing most of one arm and two legs did no cause her to shrink from what she saw as her “duty and responsibility.”
"Since leaving Walter Reed, I had continued to serve as a drilling Guardsman, performing one weekend of service a month, plus two weeks of summer training each year. Because I had started receiving a disability pension after the shootdown, I wasn’t getting paid for these days of service—and in addition, I also had to pay for my own plane tickets and hotel stays, all for the privilege of continuing to serve."
There is so much more to write about her life, but I will just post a several quotations:
At home ----
"When my mom landed a big job sewing costumes for a hālau hula dance troupe, she went into overdrive. These costumes weren’t bikini tops and grass skirts; they were long ruffled skirts with multiple tiers, which meant multiple hems, each of which took hours to complete. I helped Mom when I could, but sewing those hems by hand was murderously boring and tedious, and doing them for even just an hour left me feeling catatonic. Mom, on the other hand, worked for hours on end. Watching her labor, her back aching and fingers bleeding, gave me great appreciation for all the workers who toil to make the cheap clothes and home goods we buy from overseas factories. It also laid bare a simple truth about the working poor. My family never worked as hard as when we were living at the poverty line. The notion that the working poor don’t need a living wage, or that they just need to work harder if they want to get ahead, is abhorrent. I can tell you from personal experience, that’s not how life works—even though a whole lot of politicians who’ve never lived in poverty themselves seem to think it is."
Of camaraderie -
"Yet these men courageously took this extra time—not even to save my life, because they thought I was dead. They stayed behind, risking their own lives, to recover my body for my family. They did it for the purest of all reasons, that you never leave a fallen comrade behind."
Being used -
"Unfortunately, I learned quickly that this wouldn’t be a one-time occurrence—far from it. All day, every day, whether in the ICU or the regular hospital ward, people wanted to come to my bedside, say a word or two, get a photo taken, and then continue on their rounds to the next wounded warrior. And these weren’t just military officers either. We had nonstop visits from celebrities, actors, politicians, comedians, Cabinet members—a regular who’s who of high-powered strangers, dutifully filing past my hospital bed. Visitors fell into one of two categories. The first consisted of people who really cared about the patients—guys like Gary Sinise and Adam Sandler, who visited repeatedly, offered support, and never made the visits about themselves. The second consisted of those who came for their own PR purposes, turning the wounded into props so their marketing machine could show them “supporting the troops.” They’d shuffle through, offer a hello and a half-hearted handshake, flash their pearly whites for the camera, and then head out without bothering to learn our names. Feeling like exotic creatures in a cage, we patients started referring to ourselves as the Amputee Petting Zoo."
Recovery -
"All told, I would spend thirteen months recovering at Walter Reed, a length of time that made my recovery easier not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. If I had been thrown out into the world after a month or two, I would have had to deal with people’s stares, and the frustration of explaining over and over what had happened to me. Instead, I was in an environment where being an amputee was the norm, and everyone understood what everyone else was going through."