Kathy

I watched the television in horror. The end of the Vietnam War had dominated the nightly news for months, looking worse every night. I saw people clawing and kicking and climbing over the fence of the American embassy in Saigon. I heard about the crash of a rescue plane heading out of Vietnam, filled with orphans. I saw families cling together on boats on the rocky ocean after fleeing their country. As a University of Miami graduate student who worked at the school bookstore, I didn’t have much extra time or money. But when I saw the terrified faces of those refugees, I wanted to help.