How can you forget Haing S. Ngor? I sure can’t.
Not when, every time I think of him, I remember so many different things. And all with enormous, positive love. Can you imagine how many others are pouring out that love for Haing S. Ngor today? Millions? Billions? How wonderful, compared to the kind of perverted evil that killed him. Difficult as it is, I have been praying for these enemies of the people too, that their own personal God will convict their very souls, and they will choose to do good things, and that they will be brought to justice.
When I remember Dr. Ngor, I hear sounds. He was so childlike and innocent -- so cute, really! -- when he played around... the way he crept up behind pretty girls and little kids -- whomever -- he’d sneak up quickly and quietly, ducking down behind them, and then the girl would jump when she heard this jungle noise, like a gecko or some odd, exotic thing, and as soon as she jumped, Haing would laugh in absolute delight. I remember how he loved to play and joke around.
I remember him standing near where his beloved died, and at the monuments of human skulls and bones -- the real killing fields -- and I remember how Dr. Ngor’s face looked as he stood there, remembering.
I remember how much he adored his niece Sophia -- he saved her, and raised her as his own -- and I remember how he said she made his life worth living.
I remember how much he loved Cambodia...and America...and Hollywood...and wherever he went...and his people...and the world around him. And most of all, I remember how everyone loved him right back.