MiSSS SScott shows the class photographs of a burned, naked girl running, crying down a dirt road of people climbing, screaming, desperate to get on the last helicopter out of Saigon of skeletal refugees, crammed aboard a sinking fishing boat, reaching up to the heavens for help of mounds of combat boots abandoned by soldiers of the losing side. She’s telling the class where I’m from. She should have shown something about papayas and Tt.
