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My trip home
My trip home.
<Tab/>"There it was", I though as I glanced out through the airplane's window, Saigon was the last city I saw be fore I escaped fifteen years ago. My heart was racing as the plan made its landing. This would be my first trip home since coming to America.
<Tab/>My plane landed midday in the hot, humid summer time at Saigon International Airport. It was hardly and airport, much less an international one. We exited off the mid sided Airbus on a set of rusted stairs. An old bus with a massive Pepsi advertisement adorning its exterior took us to th…
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