Zero-To-Five In Three Years

In an earlier post I talked about the difficulty of going from one child to two and how the effort and energy expended just didn’t seem proportional. I know now that it was only preparing us for the leap from two to five. Jennifer, our first, had arrived in October 1983. In November of 1986 we were now the parents of five! How did we do it??? We still ask ourselves that question.

We named the Huh Siblings as follows: Eun Kyung became Christina Joy (Christy), Kee Haeng changed to Scott Robert, and Kee Seong, Kevin Walter. Joy was my mother's middle name; Robert was my father's name, and Walter was the middle name of Lora’s father. They spoke no English beyond hello, good-bye, and thank you. They could count to ten and had learned their ABC’s but had no idea how to use either. While still in Korea, I used my "survival Korean" to get them to come, sit, be quiet, hello, and thank you. Its amazing how much can be accomplished with so little!

Our arrival at Los Angeles International Airport on November 18, 1986 was a story in itself. We were greeted in the immigration and customs area by representatives of our agency who were volunteers authorized into the secured areas. They were there to help us through the inspection of the kids' visas, travel certificates and baggage. One of them collected the paperwork to hold while I loaded our large, heavy bags onto a cart. She then left the area to report back to Lora, who was waiting upstairs, that we were there and it would take awhile for us to get through the lines. Meanwhile, we're now in line without any paperwork—do you see the problem, yet? The officials didn't like us standing before them without identification and we were now subject to their arbitrary wrath. We were finally able to get our volunteer back downstairs with the papers but the damage was already done.

While in Korea I had purchased lots of shoes and clothing because the kids would be coming home with just the clothes on their backs. The customs officer grilled me about my reasons for attempting to bring so much past her table. It didn't seem to matter that I was accompanied by three children who were entering the United States to be adopted. She inspected every item in our bags which had to be re-packed once she was satisfied. She also levied a tax for the amount in excess of our allowance; the person ahead of me had spent double my purchases yet she was cleared without an inspection or tax. We had officially ticked off the system and our “friendly” customs inspector made it her duty to punish me. After more than two hours we were finally cleared while the rest of our fellow passengers were long gone.


The initial meeting upstairs was exciting and tearful. Lora and family members, after their long wait, were rewarded with our smiling faces and relieved we had finally made it. As for me, I was just relieved. The entire trip had been physically and emotionally stressful. I didn't realize how stressful until we boarded the plane in Korea; I collapsed into my seat and started shaking with what felt like a fever. Fortunately, the plane was not full and I was able to stretch out across several seats and sleep a good portion of the twelve hour flight. I remember awakening at one point and the kids were sleeping alongside me; I learned they were concerned about me and wanted to be close in case I needed help.

Aside from the stress of adoption issues was the political unrest in Korea while we were there. It was rumored that the president of North Korea had been assassinated. South Korea was on high alert with all public transportation, and some street corners, guarded by armed soldiers. One of our paperwork issues required the American embassy to endorse a document and notarize our signatures. (Notice I said, "Our" signatures; they wanted Lora's signature, too. I was finally able to convince them that my signature would be sufficient since she was home in the states with no way to notarize her signature before our departure.) Getting into the embassy grounds required us to vacate our vehicle while it was searched for bombs. My briefcase, filled with adoption documents, was searched, as well. In addition, as we approached the airport for our return flight we would go through the same search procedure; my thought at the time was, "Just get me out of here!"

Finally, we arrived home in Ventura. Michael was going to share his room with Scott and Kevin. Jennifer was going to bunk with her new older sister, Christy. Our home was small and their rooms are about 9x9 feet square. Bunk beds were the only way the three boys would fit. Our kitchen table wasn't really big enough for seven but it would have to do for now. Although we had two baths only one had a shower which was off our bedroom. That one shower ended up being used by all seven family members. After many years and thousands of showers it would require a complete demolition to repair the damage.

We had made arrangements with a young Korean adoptee to live with us the first two weeks of the kid's homecoming. She was invaluable in being able to communicate, in Korean, the daily routines including the use of the bathroom, the shower, dirty clothes, and our expectations about helping with the household chores. She was in high school and spent the night on our couch. We couldn't have done it without her and we would recommend a similar arrangement as a way to make it easier on everyone during a very difficult adjustment for older adoptees.

We had planned to start the kids in school after the Christmas holidays. Around the first of December, however, they communicated that they were bored and wanted to go to school. We had already met with the schools to give them a head's up about three Korean speaking children coming to enroll. In preparation, I had attended a bi-lingual parent meeting before traveling to Korea; the meeting was conducted in Spanish! One of the presenters recognized my lack of understanding and translated for me. There were no Korean interpreters, tutors, or assistance being offered for our situation. After the kid's arrival we did find language help but it was without the school district's assistance. Christy, at thirteen, entered sixth grade. Scott would enter fifth and Kevin third.

Although Christy, Scott, and Kevin spoke no English they were essentially given the same expectations to complete their daily studies as their English speaking classmates. Christy was fortunate because her home room teacher took extra time and patience to encourage her. Scott, too, was lucky to have a wonderful teacher who made his transition much easier. Kevin, by contrast, had a teacher who was overwhelmed at the difficulty of working with a non-English speaking student and gave him a block of clay to keep him busy throughout the day. We didn’t learn of Kevin’s lack of instruction until parent conferences in the spring of 1987.

Homework became a nightly ritual that required one-on-one time. Many nights were spent sitting at the kitchen table with all three. They sat armed with their Korean-to-English dictionaries; I had my English-to-Korean dictionary and together we connected the dots in their lessons. Much of the time it was a form of charades or a key word that got the message across. They readily understood math problems because math is a universal language, however, their counting and figuring in Korean left me in the dark if they didn’t come up with the correct answer.

When one is immersed into a new culture and language verbal skills develop first. Then comes reading with writing being the last and hardest skill to acquire. The kids did a remarkable job of trying to use English from the beginning. Arguments, however, reverted back to their native language and from the sound were quite heated. So we made a rule that arguments had to be in English. It slowed them down for awhile but they soon adapted and were yelling in heavily accented English. We also began to notice certain Korean words had special emphasis and we could only imagine what the translation was!

One of the more difficult challenges we faced was the age differences of our two sets of kids. The younger ones were still infants and required lots of attention and care. The older kids, however, had never really received the same nurturing and their perception was (and to some extent still is) that they were somehow second-class citizen’s less worthy of our consideration. We tried our best to treat all of our children, equally, in an age appropriate way. It has been a hard, thin line for us as parents and it was totally unexpected.

I need to stop now to organize my thoughts about Christy, Scott, and Kevin. Each will get their own story but it will differ from Jennifer and Michael. You already have their homecoming story and a little of the transition to life in the United States. My next post will concentrate on Christy and her resolve to take full advantage of the opportunities with her new family. I’m going to call it, “Determined—Christy’s Story”.

A Leap of Faith

This is the story of our day in Pyongtaek. Although this is the name of a small town the adoption agency referred to their orphanage located there by the same name. This was to be my first experience of visiting an orphanage. I anticipated the emotions but until you’ve been there you cannot imagine. It is here where the title of this post originated, “You Can’t Save Them All.” I walked around the entire time, with my camera in my upraised hands, trying to avoid each little hand that reached up to me for a touch, a hug, or any loving touch I could give. The children pictures are a collection of pictures taken this day as well as on subsequent trips.

Ho Mi Yung at Pyongtaek

There was, however, one face that appeared at nearly every corner we turned. She had a sweet, sad smile on her face and we couldn’t help but notice her. Lora and I whispered to each other that perhaps she might make a nice older sister to Jennifer and Michael. We thought she was about ten years old. You see her here in the cafeteria lunch line just as we first saw her. Our hosts noticed our interest and asked if we wanted to know more about her? Cautiously, we said yes. They told us she was thirteen and had been in the orphanage since she was ten. We understood them to say her name was Ho Mi Yung (phonetic spelling—we had it all wrong but it will do for now). Still showing some interest we had our picture taken with her.

It was at our lunch afterward when our hosts told us she had two brothers at Pyongtaek. That was all we needed to hear, there was no way we were going to adopt three more kids; especially a sibling group of older children! Thanks, but no thanks! We would have to be insane to even consider it.

Allow me to relate another lesson in the realities of female children at Pyongtaek. Ho Mi Yung was thirteen and had not been in school since arriving in the orphanage. She was too old to attend school because it required a small tuition; any available funds would go to the male orphans. She “earned” her room and board by being a caretaker of small children. Look closely, you’ll be able to pick her out in some of the pictures. At sixteen she would have to leave the orphanage and provide for herself without an education or skills to get employment. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination but it was not an easy life awaiting her.

We returned home to Ventura and our two infants on July 1st, 1986. Jennifer and Michael had stayed at my sister’s during our two week trip and we were relieved they remembered us. We, on the other hand, still remembered Ho Mi Yung. Between the two of us we discussed the insanity of bringing all three into our home. Most days one of us was pro with the other against; until one day we found ourselves on the same side. We thought we knew how difficult it would be; and we also knew we could offer them a better life with a loving home and an education.

We contacted our agency director and asked if she could make inquiries that might lead to adoption. Their referral was in Minnesota and the agency was happy to forward us their file for review prior to our final decision. We learned their correct names; Ho Mi Yung was actually Huh, Eun Kyung and her brothers were Huh, Kee Haeng and Huh, Kee Seong. Eun Kyung was thirteen, Kee Haeng was eleven, and Kee Seong was nine.

Huh Siblings--Eun Kyung, Kee Haeng & Kee Seong at Pyongtaek

Their story was much like some of the cultural information shared earlier. Their natural father was dead and their mother had tried, in vain, to provide for them. She had placed them in her parent’s care but they were still raising their family, too. Finally, they were placed in one of the regional orphanages on Eun Kyung’s tenth birthday and soon transferred to Pyongtaek. While at Pyongtaek, Eun Kyung was offered placement with several families but she would not leave her brothers.

Huh Siblings in new home--Ventura, CA USA!

Older children are termed “hard-to-place”; and older siblings are closer to “impossible”. They stayed there with little hope of adoption until the “plan” introduced them to us. We gave the final okay and in November (just four months after our first trip) I traveled to South Korea to take custody of the Huh Siblings. I had just started a new job and asked for five days leave to bring them home. I ended up being gone ten days due to paperwork issues. Fortunately, my new employer was fully supportive and actually gave me paid vacation time!

This post was all about “You Can’t Save Them All”. We, on the other hand, were doing our best to save all we thought we could afford and fit into our small home. Our first two, Jennifer and Michael, were to fulfill our needs to be parents; adopting the next three was more about giving them a chance to have a better life. I’m not trying to make anyone feel guilty but there is a huge need for people who have hearts to love children and can find room to give them a home.

In my next post I’ll share our experiences of adopting older siblings and their transition to life in the United States. It is not a story for the faint of heart. Please return for “Zero to Five in Three Years”.

You Can't Save Them All

Cousin Greg, Michael & Jennifer
In 1984 Ventura County lost its state funding to operate the Intercountry Adoption program. By now, we knew dozens of couples who had adopted and many of them wanted to adopt another child. In addition, there were many couples, just like us, who had reviewed their options to begin a family and were looking at international adoption because of the lower risk.

There was an obvious need for international adoptions to continue. I don’t recall the exact origin of the conversation but I remember the first gathering of several couples to explore starting our own adoption agency. We determined we had a core group of couples who would commit to making the idea come alive. One of our couples provided legal expertise, another helped with the finances, another had political connections that helped with the state bureaucracy, and others had small business experience.

Many meetings later, Adoption Services International (ASI), was licensed to provide adoptions in Ventura County. Legally it was California Adoption Services but we did business as ASI to avoid confusion with being a state agency. We hired our social worker away from the county to be our agency director. She knew the technical and legal necessities of adoption and she had contacts in South Korea where children were waiting for families.

Me, I was a volunteer ready to lend a hand wherever needed and I had good business and organization skills. I was also a salesperson and therefore had the “mouth”. At one of those early meetings my talented “mouth” got the better of me and I found myself voted the Board of Directors’ President. This was no lofty title—it meant I was the “Head Volunteer” and spokesperson for the group.

Michael & Jennifer

By now you can see how the “plan” was beginning to emerge? Imagine the difference in our lives if we had been able to have our own children? There would have been no Jennifer or Michael and the adoption agency, if it happened, would have been without the “mouth”. The “plan” continued to take shape and our own family was about to take a gigantic leap of faith.

In the summer of 1986 the Board of Directors decided we needed a face-to-face meeting with our South Korean partners. So far, all arrangements for working together had been done via phone, fax, and letters. During the preliminary negotiations we determined our license to deliver adoption services in Ventura County needed expansion to the entire state. We were being led to believe we could receive up to two hundred referrals per year and we were anxious to share with South Korea our readiness to accept responsibility for these children.

In late June, 1986, we departed Los Angeles International Airport for Seoul, South Korea. Our delegation included me, Lora, our agency director, one of her adopted Korean daughters, and our director’s stepmother. Later, the joke was that I was along for the trip because the ladies needed someone to carry the heavy shopping bags. They nicknamed me “sherp”, short for the Sherpa mountain guides who carry unbelievable loads to the summit of Mount Everest.

Danny in Seoul, South Korea
South Korea, in 1986, was still two years from the Seoul Summer Olympics. Most of the street and store signs were written only in Korean and therefore a challenge for us. When I was in the Navy I visited many foreign countries in Europe but this was my first visit to the Far East. The sounds, smells, and food were different from anything I had experienced so far. Our hosts had good English language skills but my ear was not accustomed to understanding English with a Korean accent.

Therefore, when we went to meet with the head of our partner agency, my presentation to him was going to be difficult and stressful. He was a surgeon trained in the United States with good English language skills but this turned out to be a blessing and a curse. Bluntly, he informed us that our information regarding two hundred referrals was incorrect and our state-wide California license was of no interest to him. It was then I became a believer in telepathic messaging; our director and I exchanged looks of bewilderment and somehow managed to communicate without the benefit of words. What I said next to our host is lost now in the confusion but we somehow conveyed we would be happy to work with his agency on whatever terms he was dictating. This appeared to satisfy his ego and we were left to figure out how we were going to downsize our statewide strategy when we returned home.

Family Reunion 1986

The next days were filled with more meetings along with sightseeing, shopping, and the reunion of our director’s daughter with her Korean sisters. Pictured here you see her in the red dress along with her sisters and a young niece. The lady on the right was our director.

We also took a tour of the De-Militarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea and experienced the very real tensions under the watchful eyes of North Korean border guards. In the building where the armistice was signed we walked to the North Korean side of the negotiating table, and for the moment, we were in North Korea.

This seems like a good place to end this part of our South Korean trip. Up to this point we were occupied with the business of the agency and making attempts to establish a working relationship with our South Korean partners. Overall, the trip was a huge success and our arrangement with them lasted fifteen years and hundreds of children. The last journey on our visit included a visit to the countryside, south of Seoul, to visit the orphanage site named, “Pyongtaek”, shown here at left. Join us for the ride as we come face-to-face with our own “A Leap of Faith”.

Michael--I Want A Son

Michael’s story begins before we finalized Jennifer’s adoption. We had planned to adopt another child but we also thought we would wait a year or two before beginning the process. Much like natural childbirth, having another child right away is not foremost in your mind.

Recall that the Intercountry Adoption program in Ventura County was the one and only county in all of California to benefit from state funds to operate? Well, soon after Jennifer’s arrival we learned that California was going to discontinue its support and the county would be out of the intercountry adoption business. We could, however, make application right away for another child in a race to beat the closing deadline.

So we dove into the tedious paperwork process including another round of home-study interviews. By now we were well acquainted with our social worker. In truth, she could have written her evaluation without our participation but for one minor detail. During our last interview she paused and asked the one question we hadn’t covered. Was our next child to be girl or a boy? At that time it was possible to state a preference. Later rules allowed the choice of a boy or girl on your first adoption while subsequent adoptions were based on available children and their needs. Lora immediately answered it was to be a girl—I looked at her and said, “I want a son.” Our social worker, with a slight smile on her face, suggested we take a break to discuss our differences!

Lora explained that a girl would benefit from having an older sister and share a room as she had done with her twin sister, Lorna. She could also use her older sister’s hand-me-downs and we could save on the expense. Lora provided good, logical reasons for another girl except I wanted a son. Lora was sensitive to my wishes and we agreed on the spot that our next child would be a boy. We could not submit our final adoption paperwork until Jennifer’s legal adoption was complete in April, 1984.

Here, again, we believe there was a plan at work. Going through Ventura County for adoption was less expensive and therefore desirable. We were going to be able to adopt both of our children through this program before its closure. Also, remember the two couples who had gone through domestic adoption and were fighting for custody? (See “Crossroads” post) On the day we went to court to formally adopt Jennifer we knew one of those two couples was to be there to finalize the adoption of their little girl. They asked us not to acknowledge them during our wait outside the court because the birth parents did not know them by sight. Our greeting, using their names, would have told the birth parents who to approach before losing their custody rights in this final court appearance. We made the right decision!

We were now in the “hurry up and wait” period, again. We received approval for placement of a healthy male infant under the age of six months without delay. The next step would be the child referral. His name would be Michael Lee. Lee is my middle name and we both liked Michael. Now we needed his referral to put a face with the name.

Michael was born on July 23, 1984. He was 6 pounds, 9 ounces and 19 ¼ inches long. His birth parents were a young unmarried couple and did not plan to marry. He was placed for adoption on July 28th.

Here is where I want to explain a little about the Korean culture so that you have a better understanding of how a child like Michael is placed for adoption. The Korean culture is very old and proud. A big part of this proud way of life is the “blood line”. A child, born of a marriage between two Korean adults becomes a member of the family’s blood line, pure and unadulterated. A child, like Michael, does not have the marriage requirement and will not unless the couple marries or the father recognizes the child by providing some sort of support. The father will not give this support, typically, because by doing so it legitimizes the family ties. If the child is the offspring of a bi-racial marriage it cannot be recognized in the family. Additionally, the child of one man will not be accepted by a new husband in the event of the father’s death or divorce. And finally, because of the male dominance in the workplace, a single mother will often find it impossible to provide for her child and will relinquish the child for adoption.

A domestic adoption, in Korea, has been done by couples unable to have their own children. It is, however, a rare occurrence because of the blood issue. Couples have been known to move to an area away from family and friends so that the “pregnancy” can produce a child complete with the mother-to-be wearing padding to simulate being with child, etc.

We did not learn of Michael’s existence until October, 1984, nearly a year after Jennifer came home. As you might guess, it appears our process was moving quickly but when you are waiting parents nothing seems quick! Our expectation, based on our Jennifer experience, was we might be parents of our son sometime around the New Year?

On November 15, about a month after receiving his referral we were awakened by a knock at the front door. When we opened the door there stood our social worker with a grin. Without any explanation she said, “How about tomorrow?” Wow!

We had spent months preparing Jennifer’s room. Before her arrival we had a crib, dressing table, a chest with clothes and diapers, and a closet full of more clothes. For Michael, we had nothing! Never did we anticipate he would be arriving so soon and we actually had counted on Christmas to supply some of the essentials through gifts. We now had to scramble and get ready in twenty-four hours. Fortunately, the adoption support group came to our rescue with the necessities of bringing Michael home. Still, I was assembling his borrowed crib at 11:00 p.m. the night before.

The scene at the airport was familiar with our family and adoptive parents mingling with nervous anticipation. Michael’s flight, like Jennifer’s, had cleared customs and immigration in Seattle so our wait would be brief once he landed. When the plane door opened our social worker had permission to go aboard to get Michael. Shortly, she returned through the door and placed Michael into my arms—I had my son!

The first few days are now a blur but the first few months were memorable. It’s not fair to draw comparisons of our children’s behavior but the difference here was like night and day. I’m including it in our story because it points to our expectations and how we handled/mishandled the unexpected. Where Jennifer had been quiet and content Michael was demanding and wanted to be held all the time. Lora has said his cry was like he was mourning the loss of his foster mother’s embrace and there was nothing we could do to salve the pain. There were times we felt we had made a very serious mistake adopting another child so soon. One child plus one child did not equal two—we felt we had taken one child and now had four or five when counting the sleepless hours, diaper changes, feedings, and laundry.

Now we were the parents of two infants only fifteen months apart. Michael was four months with Jennifer a “big” nineteen months. I make a point of calling her the “big” sister because we treated her as though she was much older. In some respects I believe we did this unfairly although not consciously on our part. We hope you keep this in mind if faced with a similar situation.

Again, I would like to tell Michael’s story to adulthood in more detail later. For now here is a brief summary to the present—Michael’s adoption was complete on August 19, 1985. He is now twenty-five (2009). He went to the same neighborhood schools and graduated from high school in 2002. He played the trumpet in middle school which makes him the only child in our family to follow Dad’s musical interests; now he plays guitar, too. He was a standout soccer player from the age of five in AYSO, club soccer, and played on his high school team until breaking his ankle. At ten years old he and I started playing golf; I still “play” and he now shows me how the game is really played by scoring on a bad day in the low 80’s. (He plays only once or twice each quarter.) He was a member of his high school golf team and was their number one player. He graduated from California State University-San Francisco in 2008 with a Bachelor of Science degree in Statistics with an Emphasis in Economics. He is now in his final semester of his Master’s studies and will receive his Master of Science degree this spring (2010) in Mathematics with an Option in Applied Statistics at California State University-Long Beach. He plans to continue his education by earning a PhD after a year of practical work experience.

Most of all, we are proud and fortunate parents to have a son like Michael! Some of his early years were not all easy as you will learn later. The maturity he has exhibited the last few years with his studies has more than accounted for any trials we endured as his father and mother. We are excited by his future prospects and we will continue to support him in his efforts to achieve his goals.

My next installment on our blog is going to take a detour from introducing you to the Ruffin Family. You will learn of our involvement in the adoption community and how we assisted hundreds of children to come home to a loving family. It will be another step in our journey according to the “plan”. Please return for—“You Can’t Save Them All”.