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Chapter 7
Year of Tết Mậu Thân (1968)
The year 1968 was already heavy with grief when the shadow of war grew larger than ever. For our family, it began with sorrow over the loss of my grandmother and my eldest brother, Thanh Nhân. But as the year progressed, a new storm approached — one that would touch our city, our home, and the very foundation of our sense of safety.

Moving Back to Yersin Street

After the tragedies of the past two years, my father faced a practical necessity. As a high-ranking government officer stationed in Đà Lạt, he had been provided the house on 2 Huỳnh Thúc Kháng Boulevard, a modern glass A-shaped home surrounded by pine trees and a blooming front garden. It had been our refuge after leaving the Yersin home in 1965. But in 1968, another high-ranking officer was sent to Đà Lạt to assist him, and the Huỳnh Thúc Kháng house had to be reassigned.

Though leaving a home filled with memories is never easy, my father had the foresight to return us to 21 Yersin Street, the house that had sheltered our family before. The Yersin home was familiar, comfortable, and somehow protective — a place that had witnessed our family’s growth, laughter, and now, mourning.

Packing up the family, along with our possessions and the garden’s potted plants, was an emotional affair. The younger siblings asked, “Why do we have to leave again?” My mother reassured them in her quiet, composed way: “God has guided us through many changes. He will continue to protect us.” Thanh Tâm, though still in Saigon, wrote letters urging us to stay strong and keep the household in order.

We arrived at Yersin Street in early January 1968. The house stood as a testament to stability, a two-story villa with high ceilings, wide windows, and a garden that could hold our laughter and sorrow alike. For the first time in years, the entire family — all ten of us remaining at home — slept under one roof, each room filled with the scent of pinewood furniture, flowers, and the memories we carried with us.