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Cambodian refugee has badge of honor
Uprooted as teen, S.D. cop grasps the American dream

By Lisa Petrillo
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER

July 6, 1999

SAN DIEGO -- Was it Farrah Fawcett's impressive gun, or
dodging the Khmer Rouge slaughter that drove Simon Vutha Ty so hard to
get his badge?

The badge symbolized his American dream come true when Ty
became San Diego's first Cambodian police officer in 1991, an
achievement reached only 10 years after landing in America at age 14, penniless and
alone.

Now 33, Ty wears an even higher honor in his adopted land,
the detective's shield, and has his eye beyond that. His drive to climb the
ladder of American-style success is fueled by a past that few can
really grasp, and nobody should have to live.

"You grow up fast when you live where there is war," he
said softly.

On a recent day, Ty, wore a sharp Italian-cut suit. He was
just back from questioning a robbery suspect when he sat down to lunch in
a Japanese restaurant.

So deep into the melting pot is he that he marks personal
milestones with American holidays that don't exist in his native Cambodia,
noting that he entered San Diego Police Academy on April Fool's Day and
graduated on Halloween.

Back in his homeland, you didn't trick or treat as a
9-year-old trying to survive in the jungle between the assorted tigers, myriad
land mines and ruthless Communists.

His early life, he remembers, was comfortable, as his
father worked for the CIA. But the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh started
falling to the Khmer Rouge. His father gave up hope that there would be peace
and decided to flee -- but the decision came too late.

"I remember him riding off on his motorcycle saying he was
going to find a way out for us," Ty recalled. "That was the last time I
ever saw him."

He was 9. What was left of his family splintered under the
brutal Pol Pot regime, which left 1.7 million people out of a population
of about 8 million dead of starvation, disease or execution in the killing
fields.

The closest Ty got to real school was an abandoned one
where the Khmer Rouge had dug giant pits for mass graves, pits each big
enough for the corpses of maybe 100 men, women and children.

"There were 48 pits -- 48." He put his fork down, losing
for a moment his careful composure. "People would hide money and jewelry in
their clothes, three, four, five layers. So people would go through the
pits looking for anything the Khmer Rouge missed. I never did."

At 14, he managed to get smuggled across the Thailand
border by a Cambodian who helped a group cross minefields blocking the
way. "We had to walk in each other's footsteps. All around there were
pieces of people who didn't make it, legs and hands."

They crawled through sewer pipes to get into the relative
safety of a refugee camp, and from there he managed to get sponsored to come to
the United States by the YMCA of Houston.

His time in Texas is most distinguished in his memory. It
is where he discovered his first American TV program, "Charlie's
Angels," that '70s cop show best known for bad karate and fluffy-haired actress
Farrah Fawcett. "I knew what time it was on, so I would go over to my
neighbor's and ask if I could watch. There was something about that show," he
recalled, swearing that it was the gun play that fascinated him and
crystallized his ambition to grow up to be a cop like Charlie's Angels.

From Texas, he moved to Minnesota, where he discovered he
had relatives, and he climbed the ladder to high school success through
sports and clubs while working part time at a McDonald's. So determined was
he to succeed, he said, he even turned down a date to the prom so as not
to distract himself. He joined the National Guard to earn enough money for
college, where the young computer buff studied engineering.

"We have a saying in my country, 'If you go into a stream,
you have to go along with the flow to get anywhere,' " he said, smiling.
"I want to live a life where I say I have achieved. I don't want my sons to have
to go through what I did."

When he came to San Diego, he first settled in the city's
tight-knit Southeast Asian community, which would grow into one of the largest
in the nation. By the mid-1980s city and police officials began meeting with
community leaders in Linda Vista and midcity areas, home to about 70,000
Indochinese, who were frustrated with the department's inability to cross
cultural barriers.

Thus was born the San Diego Police Department's aggressive
recruitment of people from the Indochinese community as community service
officers, who could provide backup to regular officers and help with
translation, both verbal and cultural.

Ty became one of the officers who was sent to explain to
Indochinese women that in America, sex crimes and spousal abuse are not to be
endured, and to persuade older refugees to trust banks and not keep their
cash at home, leaving them vulnerable to thieves.

He married a fellow Cambodian refugee, who ran a
dry-cleaning shop, entered the police academy, bought a house and had two
sons. In his spare time he pursued a college degree.

"I have the American dream, debts and all," he jokes.

Earning the badge that carries so much power in America
came at a sacrifice in his own culture, Ty found. Coming from a land where
police and authorities have historically been corrupt, not all immigrants respect
those who joined the force here, he explains.

"Some of the younger ones in the neighborhood called me a
traitor. They think I'm a sellout." He suffered vandalism and threats, he said,
so he moved his family out of the neighborhood.

It is a testament to assimilation that he no longer works
exclusively with the Indochinese community, or out of the special storefront
office on University Avenue. He has become a cop who happens to have been born
in Southeast Asia, who lives in East County.

After lunch, he headed back to the City Heights police
substation where he works, past the colorful jumble of Mexican taco shops,
Asian mom-and-pop shops, local bars and a freeway construction project.

"The neon jungle," he said. "That's what I call it."

A Tournament That Ended In Torment: By Nara Siv
I had a great time on Saturday, July 4, 1999. Five of us (Me, Phalla,
Ounn (Sam), Mr.B (Sohpeap), and Saki (Hou) had decided to form a Volleyball team. We possessed no speed or agility but experiences and expertise in this field.

Hmong's Tournament held annually on the 4th of July weekend. There were two
tournaments held simultaneously. One held at Como Park the other at
Washington County, all in Minnesota. At the Como Park, a team had to have six
players; we only had five and that wasn't enough to qualify. So we settled
to play at other place.

Six teams eliminated each other out. Two teams went to Championship Match. We, the Badz Boy versus the Hurricane. The best two out of three games, Badz Boy took the first game, Hurricane took second game, of all the games we played, we never let the opposition went to third game, ever! Then came the third game, the decided one, Badz Boy lead
FOURTEEN TO TWELVE (all we need was a SINGLE point to be a Champion), at
this point our best hitter got cramp he went out of the game. So four of us
took over, now we were in some kind of trouble, the opposition saw a window
of opportunity and the motivation to play hard (the main ingredients in
sport), the ball got side-out back and forth at this score. Next play,
Hurricane served and dropped a foot from the back line, split between Mr.B &
me, we thought it was an out ball (it was a bad thought). Then the scores were
Fourteen to Thirteen, then fourteen to fourteen, fourteen to fifteen, two
major mistakes we made: the easily-to-take tip ball and hit-out ball those
caused us our first place of the tournament.

It was a Big disappointment for us knowing that we had let our best chance
slipping away (considering we're probably going down hill from here as far as our
ages concern), we might not get another chance to be where we were. But we
took a $250.00 second place prize home. It wasn't about the prize, but the
chance to be the Champion!

On the other tournament at Como Park: this tournament had more prestige, I
believe there were eighteen teams played. The best teams came from all over,
France and the United States. One of them came from Long Beach, CA, the
Khmer team, for those who live in CA might know this team, The Eagle. Those
guys were awesome; though they were out played by a team who played the
"Money-Ball, Leang siv loung" type of game. We really impressed by their
mighty weapons they had. All of us Khmers who attended the tournament
cheered for them, even my wife got to be their cheerleader. We chatted
around and offered some useful advices. It was a great feeling for us to
see Khmer's team played and shown our Khmer pride.

To The Eagle (Khmer Long Beach's Volleyball team):

We are grateful to see [accomplishment] in the Hmong's tournament on the 4th of July in St. Paul, Minnesota. You came so close to be the champion. You had an unbelievable hitting powers and possessed all types of skills in the Volleyball Sport Theater. Your defeat
wasn't because you lack the skills in executions, or the lack of motivations,
but because of your International style of game and rules, which were not offering
in this tournament (Hmong's rules are different from the International's
rules), and the type of game (Money-Game-Play (Leang Siv Loung)).

Once again, our congratulation on your poise and the determination, you've
revealed our side of our Khmer pride. In our hearts you are the winners! YOUR THE
CHAMPS!!!

Dith Pran: Looking for Khmer Writers

Dith Pran is looking for people of all ages who survived the Khmer Rouge
killing fields to take part in our new book effort. Our last book, Children
of Cambodia's Killing Fields was published by Yale University in May of
1997. We would like you to submit an 8 - 10 page typed, double spaced story
of how you came to this country ( USA ) from Cambodia, how you reacted to
American society and culture (and how people reacted to you) and how you were
able to overcome all obstacles to become successful in this country. We want
to
explain to the general public that the Cambodian people have come from a
very different world, struggled a lot through war and genocide, but through
patience, working and studying hard, faith and persistence, the Cambodian
people have overcome a lot and have made a positive contribution to this
country and the world. All proceeds will go to The Dith Pran Holocaust
Awareness Project, Inc. which continues to educate students and community
members about the Cambodian genocide. Please send us your true stories by
e.mail to KimDePaul@aol.com. If you don't have e.mail,
please write to The Dith Pran Holocaust Awareness Project, Inc. P.O.
Box 1616, Woodbridge, NJ 07095.
Thank you very much.
Kim DePaul, Executive Director.

The Dith Pran Holocaust Awareness Project, Inc
P.O . Box 1616
Woodbridge, NJ 07095
www.DithPran.org