One Man's Vision for Little Saigon
Along a two-mile stretch in Westminster, on what was once a decaying strip of auto-wrecking and salvage yards, some 2,000 businesses cater to the largest Vietnamese exile community in the world.
About half of them pay their rent to one man: Frank Jao.
Short, erudite and with an eagle's eyes and claws for business, Jao, 48, is the principal developer behind Orange County's Little Saigon. Using his Chinese Vietnamese heritage, Jao (pronounced JOW) has drawn investments from wealthy Asians overseas to help him build hundreds of millions of dollars worth of properties along Bolsa Avenue and adjoining streets. Merchants here call him chow fou, which means "godfather" in Chinese.
Now, facing stagnant retail sales and changing demographics, Jao is trying to push Little Saigon into the next stage of development: from an insular ethnic enclave to a mainstream tourist mecca.
Although some are intent on preserving Little Saigon as is, Jao wants to provide a wider array of foods, attract a few magnet retailers like Barnes & Noble Booksellers and turn the Bolsa corridor of strip malls with jutting Vietnamese signs into a pedestrian-friendly boulevard with a unique cultural ambience. And then market all of this to Southern California and beyond.
"I do see a lot of potential for Little Saigon," Jao says, speaking in a drawl that reflects his deliberate style. A former vacuum cleaner salesman, he heads Bridgecreek Development Co., an 18-employee firm he founded in 1978, when the first few Vietnamese businesses emerged in Westminster.
Other Asian business districts, including Koreatown and Chinatown in Los Angeles, also are seeking a much-needed infusion from outsiders. They are putting up banners around the community, adding signs in English and advertising more--all in the hope of raising awareness and being more accessible to non-Asians.
Little Saigon's advantage is that it is located in a quiet bedroom community and has easier parking access, whose shortage is a perennial complaint about Chinatown. But Vietnamese food isn't as widely known or accepted as Chinese and Japanese cuisine. Little Saigon also has a glut of shops that sell goods and services with less appeal to those outside its community, such as beauty salons, ethnic music stores, acupuncture offices and cafes.
- Little Saigon looking to get a big-city makeover - A plan calls for transforming the district with hotels and restaurants. But experts say it will take a lot of money and cooperation to achieve. Nov 15, 2007
- Vietnamese Immigrants Give $1 Million to College Dec 20, 2005
- Vietnamese building their name in San Jose - The ethnic district aims to emulate its more established counterpart, Little Saigon, starting with an official designation. Nov 19, 2007
