form of liberation and salvation, learning from failure, a community that
ultimately rallied behind him, and a close-knit group of friends, soul mates,
who shared his vision of a life that veered away from the path that most
chose, or was chosen for them. Homer was even driven to succeed by those
who begrudged him their support, including some closest to him.
These transformative influences enabled Homer Hickam to break the
bonds of his insular childhood. It is why he learned how to build rockets
that could fly, won the (U.S.) National Science Fair, attended college,
became a NASA engineer (alas, not an astronaut, but someone who helped
others defy gravity and lift off into space), and, ultimately, a professional
writer, fulfilling the prophesy of his third grade teacher, who predicted he
would some day make his living as a writer.
I first met Homer Hickam, virtually speaking, in 2006, when I sent him
an e-mail and received a quick reply, a poignant testament to the power of
the Internet and Vietnam to bring people together. I extended an invitation,
from one American here in a time of peace and progress to another who
was here in a time of war and dislocation, to meet with me if he ever
planned on traveling to Vietnam. His initial reply was “maybe something
will happen that will lead to my return. If so, I look forward to a new
adventure in an old place.”
So it is through this serendipitous chain of events that the story comes
full circle and the “new adventure in an old place” becomes a reality with
the publication of a Vietnamese edition of Rocket Boys and Homer
Hickam’s 2009 visit to Vietnam. Is it destiny? Perhaps. What I know for
sure is that it is a precious gift to the young people who read his book and
hear his message about turning dreams into reality, and to Mr. Hickam, who
once wrote to people here: “Please be happy and prosperous, my dear
friends of Vietnam. You will live in my heart forever.”
