Who was Johnny “Vietnam” Nguyen?
“Five years ago, we lost a young man from our neighborhood.”
My presence is extracted from the conversation I am having and I give all of my attention to the man at the microphone.
“His name was Johnny Nguyen — they call him Johnny “Vietnam” Nguyen. He was a young man who gave his life saving someone else in Madison, Wisconsin who was drowning. He was a young man, I believe he was twenty one when he passed.”
I think about home in this moment. Jeremy, my brother, is the same age that Johnny was when he passed.
A shudder races down my spine; I can’t imagine a world without my brother.
“But he lived a life older than me because he cared about people. He was a poet, he was a musician; he was an artist, but he cared about people, and he brought people together. Since he passed, his friends, friends you’re going to hear from tonight, continued dancing, singing, playing music, mentoring other young people.”
I think about how full of life this festival has been: music, dancing, vendors, and the greatest sense of community that I have ever experienced. All of this for Johnny — someone I have never met before.
Yet, through this great gathering of people, I feel like I know him.
“His life and his twenty one years on this Earth are going to carry on and they’ve carried on for the last five years. His example is an Uptown example; His example is when you have great programs for young people, and teach the arts together in this community. Young people can make a difference in the world.”
When I told my dad that I was going to Uptown at night, he told me one thing: 1. Be careful, there are a lot of dangerous people there.
But how can a community so focused on the future be so bad?
The next day, when friends expressed interest in going back for the festival, I felt hesitant. My mind lingered on what my dad had warned me about, but I still went. I wasn’t sure what to expect, though.
“Johnny did that; his life was cut down too short, but he did it saving someone else. His example is what all of us can do and reinvest in young people.”
I certainly was not expecting to feel as affected as I was by a complete stranger.
“Tonight, I want you to think of him. Tomorrow, I want you to think about what you can do to help the young people in our community. If we can do it here in Uptown and in Edgewater, we can do it in the city of Chicago. We can change how things have been going.”
We later walked back to the mural, which we passed the other day without knowing who Johnny Vietnam was. Turns out the mural was made in three days. Three.
This community was so moved by Johnny’s life and his sense of giving back. Unfortunately, I cannot give back Johnny.
“God bless you, thank you very much, and enjoy tonight’s music.”
All I can give is the effort I put into bettering my community each day. Whether my community is as small as the people I surround myself with, or as large as the entire world, I hope to enter each day with a singular question. A question I think Johnny spent most of his life asking, too:
What must be done?
