During the final days of the Vietnam War, a group of orphans were evacuated to the United States on a dramatic flight that would launch Operation Babylift. Now, 30 years later, they are returning to their place of birth.

By Babbie De Derian

On April 2, 1975, a World Airways cargo plane sits on a darkened runway in Vietnam. The orphanage that was supposed to hand over 260 Vietnamese orphans for evacuation has backed out after the Vietnamese government rescinded its authorization. World Airways CEO Ed Daly, knowing Saigon is about to fall, finds another orphanage willing to take the risk. Defying restrictions, he orders 57 orphans to be boarded and gives pilots Ken Healy and Bill Keating the signal to take off without lights.

The next day, President Gerald Ford forms Operation Babylift, allocating $2 million to pay for the National Humanitarian Emergency Evacuation Initiative. In three weeks, with the aid of seven adoption agencies, 26 military and commercial flights evacuate 2,548 children from Saigon and Da Nang to America. About 1,300 children are evacuated to Australia, Canada, and Europe.

Thirty years later, on June 13, 2005, 21 of the orphans from that first flight prepare to board a World Airways plane in Oakland, Calif., to return to their homeland, where they will spend two days touring the former South Vietnamese capital. The airline, once based in Oakland and now in Peachtree City, Ga., agreed to host the flight after Shirley Barnes, author of War Cradle (Vintage Pressworks, 2000), brought her book to the attention of CEO Randy Martinez. “If you can round up the adoptees, World Airways will take them home,” Martinez said. And Operation Babylift: Homeward Bound was launched.

A group of evacuees, family members, former airline employees, and retired servicemembers, totaling 120, gathers in the airport hangar to embark on the flight. An MD-11 plane, painted with World Airways’ white and red logo, sits proudly poised on the runway. Before boarding, Martinez, a retired Air Force officer, thanks the invited group of special guests: “We are here to honor our heritage, reunite 21 adoptees with their birth land, recognize our loyal employees, and support the growing relationship between America and Vietnam.”

Swapping stories

The festive flight to Saigon is a far cry from the 1975 evacuations. Young adults in their 30s, strapped three in a seat as infants on their evacuation flight, now travel first class to their homeland. Some are with a parent, spouse, or friend. Shortly after takeoff, the passengers move about the cabin, swapping stories and taking pictures. Flight attendants embrace adoptees they held in their arms as babies.

Retired military buddies greet each other and exchange combat stories. The mood is jovial as these strangers, with diverse backgrounds, come together like a reunited family.

Many of the adoptees talk about growing up as the only Asians in their communities. They describe their relationships with their adoptive families; some have remained strong, while others have withered. And they talk about returning to their home country to find their roots and see where their birth parents lived.

Atsuko Schlesinger, an attendant on the first flight out of Saigon and the last out of Da Nang, recalls waiting in a hot and humid plane for three hours. “I felt bad for the babies. We were all scared, taking off in the dark with a few volunteer doctors. When we picked the babies up to comfort them, they shook with fright; they never had affection before,” Schlesinger says. “My hope was to meet all those children as young adults; I am so proud to be part of their new lives.”

“I was on that first flight,” Tanya Bakal tells Schlesinger. “You probably held me and changed my diaper.” Bakal, traveling with her husband, hopes to trace her family roots so she can start a family tree to share with her own children.

Ron Honeycutt, a World Airways flight attendant for 34 years, recalls: “If something happened we were to tie the babies in a blanket and send them down the chute. We hand-fed each baby from a cup of noodle soup. Until I die, I will remember one little 2-year-old boy. He sat motionless the whole flight. I picked him up and carried him to the back. I could not put him down; he clung to me and screamed when the Red Cross took him out of my arms.”

Jared Rehberg, an evacuee who now lives in New York, says he felt resentment at being brought to America without choice or consent. He now writes songs about Vietnam and his feelings about his experience. Rehberg does, however, pay tribute to his adoptive family. “My parents let me be myself, decide my religion, encouraged me to be creative,” he says.

Tiffany Goodson was 31⁄2 months old when she left Vietnam. “Growing up a minority in St. Paul, Minn., people stared at me a lot,” Goodson says. She earned a degree in political science and communication and, craving diversity and anonymity, moved to New York and then Los Angeles.

Cahn Oxelson, the abandoned child of a Vietnamese mother and a black American soldier, continues to forge an identity for himself. Many years of counseling and therapy have helped fade the scars he carries from growing up black and Asian with white adoptive parents. “I’m really competitive for survival,” Oxelson says.

Tim Bosworth had learned that his Vietnamese birth mother had moved to France, and 23 years later he invited her to visit him in Colorado. “She spoke a little English; we had an instant connection,” he says. “I’m blessed with a beautiful family and have nothing to be angry about.”

Jeff Gahr, who was 12 years old when he was evacuated, recalls waiting on the tarmac with other children as his older brother was taken out of the line for being too old. The two brothers were later reunited.

Wendy Greene, who studies Vietnamese language and culture, is saving money to move back to her native country. She hopes to find answers with the help of Vietnamese friends who have immersed themselves in local society.

Arriving home

The World Airways Homeward Bound flight lands in Ho Chi Minh City and the passengers are greeted by local dignitaries. Inside the airport terminal, Gahr addresses the crowd in both Vietnamese and English. “We are here to establish new emotional bridges,” he tells the crowd. Gahr leaves the microphone to hug his fellow adoptees, overwhelmed and dazed by the official welcome.

A framed photograph of the plane is presented to the city, and World Airways’ Martinez receives a commemorative plate. “We are here to help these young adults experience the Vietnam of today; here to join hands and learn about a culture they share,” Martinez says. “Some of the crewmembers who shared a moment in history are here today, completing the Babylift story by returning 21 adoptees to their homeland.”

The group is transported to the Sheraton Saigon Hotel, a welcome treat for the weary travelers. That evening, the hotel celebrates the group’s arrival with a traditional Vietnamese feast. The next day, the group sets off to explore the city.

Roger Castillo carries with him the sandals he wore on his flight to America and some papers that lead him and his wife to the orphanage he remembers living in until the age of six. Sadly, the orphanage is being torn down; he salvages a light switch he says he will display at home. “Subconsciously, I could hear laughter and picture myself running up and down the stairs,” Castillo says. “I recognized the street I walked down with my birth mother. It was difficult to walk away knowing this is where I started my life.”

Tim Buchanan and his adoptive mother, Lee Sanne, visit the orphanage where he stayed as a baby and find a different scene. The orphanage is filled with some 370 abandoned children, all with birth defects, some who never leave their beds. Few of the orphans speak, and they cling to their caretakers when lifted and retreat back into a silent world when left alone.

Colorado State Sen. Jim Dyer (R), a retired Marine lieutenant colonel, says he made the trip to come back to the place where “we lost some guys.” He notes though that Vietnam has changed. The people are friendly, and there are many signs of a bustling economy.

The group wraps up its visit with a Saigon River boat cruise and a farewell dinner at the Unification Palace, formerly the presidential palace. Barnes presents Vietnamese officials with the third of three quilts she made from clothes worn by hundreds of orphans who passed through her life (one hangs in the Gerald R. Ford Museum, the other in World Airways headquarters). Rehberg, who is invited to perform, plays the guitar and sings about his experience.

Looking to the future

The return visit to Vietnam changed the lives of the adoptees, helping them forge new connections to their past. After the local press ran the story with www.vietnambabylift.org as a networking site, birth parents in Vietnam learned about the children they had lost and began posting messages. Two families are in the process of being reunited. And Lana Noone, who visited with her adopted daughter Jennifer, is raising funds to update orphanage equipment; 500 wheelchairs have been donated so far.

Richard Silver and his wife, Tina, say they plan to return to Richard’s home country. “Now I can tell people I have been there,” Silver says. “I am planning to take my children back to show them their father’s country.”