Little Saigon Orange County

Old men sit under shaded tables, speaking animatedly in Vietnamese. Statues adorn Westminster's Asian Garden Mall, where earthy smells waft from herb shops and young customers peruse designer goods. Here on Bolsa Avenue is the center of the exiled Vietnamese community known as Little Saigon. Beginnings When Saigon fell in April 1975, more than 120,000 Vietnamese refugees fled to the United States. They were dispersed among four centers in the U.S.

For more than a decade, a community group in Little Saigon has led the commemoration of the fall of Saigon, a day of reflection and unity in a place better known for its divisive politics and loud street protests. But this year, even the event marking the fall of South Vietnam to communist forces has given way to in-fighting. Members of the Vietnamese American Community of Southern California, which usually organizes the event, say the event has been stolen by an Orange County supervisor.

Federal and local authorities Thursday said they have dismantled the county's largest Asian organized crime syndicate, a Little Saigon-based operation that supplied the majority of illegal gambling machines in the county. In a predawn raid culminating "Operation Wildcard," authorities arrested 15 people. The alleged gang leader, Son Thanh Nguyen, 32, was already in custody on a weapons charge.

In Orange County's Little Saigon, Tuesday's election didn't go quite as planned: The winning streak of Vietnamese American candidates in recent county and municipal ballots was snapped. Voters in central Orange County failed to deliver Vietnamese American candidates to the city councils of Westminster and Garden Grove, and of the handful of Vietnamese American candidates to compete for public office in Orange County, only two incumbents won.

A small, nonprofit group has proposed building a $10-million Vietnamese library and cultural center on three acres of city-owned land in Garden Grove, signaling the further expansion of Little Saigon, Orange County's rapidly growing Vietnamese American community. If approved, the project would plant a large and significant Vietnamese cultural anchor in Garden Grove, which in recent years has begun to rival adjacent Westminster as the heart of the nation's Vietnamese American community.

To young Vietnamese Americans, it's the hottest music around. To older generations, it's nothing more than Communist propaganda. And to a Little Saigon music industry once hailed as "the Vietnamese Nashville," it could spell doom. The thaw in U.S.-Vietnam relations has flooded music stores from Westminster to Philadelphia with verse and song from a culturally invigorated Vietnam.

For eight days, protesters paraded in front of one of Little Saigon's leading newspapers. They carried an effigy of Ho Chi Minh and called the editors "traitors" for running a photo they said was so offensive that it had to be the work of communist sympathizers. Two top editors at the newspaper were replaced several days later.

When Dada Ngo opened a Cajun-style crayfish restaurant in the heart of Orange County's Vietnamese enclave, she worried whether it would survive. Crayfish was popular fare along the Gulf Coast where she had lived, but the red-clawed crustaceans were alien to most West Coast Vietnamese diners. Some thought crayfish were fish. They were intimidated when what looked like tiny lobsters were brought from the kitchen in steaming plastic bags and dumped on the table.

Fearing an outbreak of violence, 200 police officers in riot gear faced hundreds of demonstrators Monday at a protest in Little Saigon over a merchant's intention to hang the Vietnamese flag and a photograph of Ho Chi Minh in his store window. The protest by more than 500 on the eve of Tet, the Lunar New Year celebration, took place without the presence of store owner Truong Van Tran. Police had urged him not to come to the Bolsa Avenue shopping center, citing the risks.

Ten more suspects have been snared in an ongoing federal investigation into a scam involving Asians willing to pay thousands of dollars to immigrate to this country by entering into phony marriages with U.S. citizens from Vietnamese and Chinese communities in Southern California.

Nhon Ky Phan sees John McCain as a brother, a man who -- much like him -- suffered through harrowing days as a prisoner during the Vietnam War. "What happened to me was what happened to him," he said in Vietnamese. "John McCain is my comrade."

When Dada Ngo opened a Cajun-style crayfish restaurant in the heart of Orange County's Vietnamese enclave, she worried whether it would survive. Crayfish was popular fare along the Gulf Coast where she had lived, but the red-clawed crustaceans were alien to most West Coast Vietnamese diners. Some thought crayfish were fish. They were intimidated when what looked like tiny lobsters were brought from the kitchen in steaming plastic bags and dumped on the table.

ORANGE COUNTY'S Little Saigon is the heart of the largest Vietnamese American community in Southern California. Though the neighborhood officially designated as such refers to a roughly 3-square-mile area in Westminster anchored around Bolsa Avenue and Magnolia Street, these days it stretches into Fountain Valley and Garden Grove. Paying respects The Vietnam War Memorial in Sid Goldstein Freedom Park (14180 All American Way, Westminster) was sculpted by Vietnamese-born Tuan Nguyen and dedicated in 2003.

A self-described freedom fighter whose cult-hero status grew among Vietnamese after staging a 28-day hunger strike in San Jose has found a new cause -- protesting a Little Saigon newspaper accused of communist leanings. But this time Ly Tong is eating. Tong, a former South Vietnamese Air Force pilot, joined forces Sunday afternoon with protesters who have demonstrated in front of Nguoi Viet Daily News since late January.

I remember it being unusually warm for a winter's night, but in my mind's eye now, I wonder if I'm recalling the heat from the crowd more than the temperature. What remains indelible, however, is the memory of that crowd, numbering in the low hundreds and filling the available walking and standing space at a strip mall along a stretch of Bolsa Avenue in Little Saigon. It was a restless but peaceful assembly of mostly Vietnamese Americans, still holding court after dark, long after the businesses had shut down for the night.

For eight days, protesters paraded in front of one of Little Saigon's leading newspapers. They carried an effigy of Ho Chi Minh and called the editors "traitors" for running a photo they said was so offensive that it had to be the work of communist sympathizers. Two top editors at the newspaper were replaced several days later.

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.

Every Saturday is market day for Thanh Tran. The term loses some of its meaning when translated from Vietnamese, because the 65-year-old Anaheim woman does more than merely shop for groceries on this designated day. Her routine starts at a food stand for an early morning breakfast of sweet, sticky rice and jasmine tea.

AS dragons run and dance down Bolsa Avenue in Westminster during this Saturday's Tet parade celebrating the lunar New Year, the restaurants of Little Saigon will be opening their doors to floods of revelers. Many of the thousands of Vietnamese Americans who throng to the district for the holiday carnivals, concerts and events will head for favorite places that cook the regional dishes they grew up eating.

Imagine what would happen if New York City-style development came to the heart of Orange County's Little Saigon, now a jumble of mom-and-pop shops in mostly old strip malls. Lofts would sit atop high-end stores. People would lounge at outdoor restaurants and sidewalk cafes. The area would have hotels and a sculpture garden. And the street of old newspaper and TV offices would become the "Vietnamese American Times Square," complete with plasma screens and electronic headline news signs.