Sun, Jul 05 2009
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Published July 28, 2007 10:14 pm - Sometimes the only way to measure where we are is to take a look at the distance we’ve come. That has to be true for more than 40,000 Catholic Vietnamese who this week will travel to the campus of the Congregation of the Mother Co-Redemptrix in Carthage. The visitors make the pilgrimage to the area in part as one of the country’s largest family reunions. The gathering is also a religious event — called Marian Days — that honors the Virgin Mary. Carol Stark: Pilgrimage measures acceptance Sometimes the only way to measure where we are is to take a look at the distance we’ve come.
That has to be true for more than 40,000 Catholic Vietnamese who this week will travel to the campus of the Congregation of the Mother Co-Redemptrix in Carthage. The visitors make the pilgrimage to the area in part as one of the country’s largest family reunions. The gathering is also a religious event — called Marian Days — that honors the Virgin Mary. You see, 30 years ago, there was only a handful of Vietnamese refugees — most of them priests — who found a home in Carthage following the Fall of Saigon. It was this small group who started Marian Days. I covered that first gathering in 1977. The details elude me now. I wish that I had been paying more attention, and I’m certain I would have if I had realized that the small gathering would evolve into an event that now draws international attention. Slowly, the handful of refugees traveling to Carthage became 100 and then 1,000. It was about 1980 that numbers were large enough that Carthage residents began to really pay attention. Some opened their homes to the guests, making friendships that would last for decades. Others chose then — as they do now — to use yellow police tape to mark off their yards, posting “No Trespassing” signs front and center. Still, other Carthage residents simply left town for the week, unwilling to deal with a different culture and the “inconvenience” of having so many people in town. I’ve always been particularly proud that Carthage’s city government made it plain for the beginning that the visitors are to be made welcome despite the logistics nightmare that challenges law enforcement each year. The sheer numbers make security command posts necessary. One trailer is used as a command center, another for patrolling officers to use for rest breaks and an ambulance, fire department brush truck, golf carts and all-terrain vehicles are used for patrolling. Carthage police are assisted by other local, state and national departments. After all, it’s a city the size of Joplin that comes to life practically overnight. Despite the number of years I’ve written about Marian Days, I never fail to be moved by the stories from those who left behind their homes, their possession and in some cases, their families. Marian Days still serves as a true reunion place for those searching for the familiar face of friends and loved ones. If you go, you will discover a remarkable contrast between the older Vietnamese who have held steadfast to the ways of their country and the young Vietnamese Americans who have only known the United States. You will also be in awe of the spectacular colors on the campus. There are the brightly-colored tents that provide shade from the August sun. Then there is the beautiful, Vietnamese clothing worn during ceremonies. Ask our columnist Mike Pound what he’ll be doing this week and he’ll quickly tell you that he’ll eat at least one meal a day at Marian Days. He lives within walking distance of CMC and looks forward to visiting the food vendors who set up restaurants on the grounds. I guess that’s one of the best things about the celebration. It’s open to anyone. You can walk freely about the campus, attend the daily ceremonies, eat the food, enjoy the many gardens and talk with those who have been coming to Carthage year after year. The lives of those Vietnamese who came together 30 years ago in this country have been forever changed. It’s a bittersweet fate for some who I’m sure will always call Vietnam home. And how far have we come in 30 years? Certainly, there is more acceptance and understanding — even a wonderful eagerness on the part of many of Carthage’s residents who welcome back a group of people we now call friends. But, I’m still waiting for the day when the yellow police tape disappears from the yards. 
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