I lived in a community called Synanon. My job was to take care of children in Synanon, specializing in the youngest ones. I worked seven days in a row, and then had days off, alternating taking care of our charges with another person.

We got a call that the Presidio, San Francisco, was receiving young children from Vietnam, and they needed child care people, NOW! I was lucky - it was my off time, so I packed a quick bag and took off with my friends from Marin County.

We arrived to floors of children, cribs lined up against the walls, soldiers guarding every door, nurses running from bed to bed, babies crying, the flourescent lights blaring. It was night.

The first thing we did was get permission to turn down the lights to one lamp a floor. How would the children know it was night and how could they sleep? And if they didn't sleep, they would be crying all day from exhaustion. The nurses, soldiers were wonderful to work with.

I remember the children, holding babies, feeding, singing songs in their ears, calming them, feeling such love and sorrow that they at such young ages had suffered so much. The older children were in shock. They were having even harder time because they understood what had happened to them, and now they faced unknown futures. My friends and I work two shifts in a row, then slept for 6 hours, took showers, ate a meal, and then returned for two more shifts. Intense, and we were there for days, until most of the children were on their way to their new homes.

I have thought about those children all these years, praying and hoping their lives turned out good. Having been raised in an interracial family, I knew there would be challenges for them since our country is very racist in part. But I also know we found the good people in our lives, and I hoped these children would too. I read this website and weep for joy that so many it appears found loving people to raise them. Thank you to those families who made this possible. Thank you, Lana, for this site.

Shirley Keller
Email: spirithill@sbcglobal.net