IT was the end of summer in 1974. After I took my final exam at Lamar University, my wife and I drove to Houston. The weather was nasty. Rain was pouring hard at Interstate 10. But there was no postponing the trip.

     For the first time I went to see one of my “uncles”—Gene Lee. We went to his stationery store on Leeland Street, at the eastern part of the city, to tell him about our plan to publish a Chinese newspaper.

     When we arrived, Uncle Gene and his German-born wife were busy at the store. We were told to wait, and it was a long one. When we finally got to see him, we found out we had communications problem. He spoke Cantonese; we spoke Mandarin. We could understand each other only through some common words in our dialects. Most of the time we spoke in English.

     But Uncle Gene was receptive to our plan to put up a Chinese newspaper in the area. I told him that his stationery store and a printing press would complement the newspaper publication.

     Uncle Gene looked at us and smiled. “This is a very good idea, but how are we going to do it?” he asked.

     “Uncle Gene, let me show you my proposal,” I said. “I think I can overcome all the odds, but I need your help.”

     I made it clear that the newspaper definitely needed the support of community leaders—not just financial support but also moral support. I told Uncle Gene to find four or five “partners,” or “investors.” They needed to put in only a minimal amount of money to be part of the company. I asked him to find interested people.

     “I’d be back to present my business plan to these people,” I said.

     The meeting lasted for some two hours, and for these two hours I was practically doing the talking. Uncle Gene shook his head all the time, indicating that he did not buy my plan. He didn’t believe the plan would work.

     The meeting did not produce any good results, and I was very frustrated. I thanked Uncle Gene nonetheless for listening to my “great plan.”

     When we left Uncle Gene’s office, the rain was still pouring down heavily. Leeland Street was flooded. The sky was getting even darker, indicating more rains to come.

     I told my wife we should go back to Beaumont right away. We tried to avoid the flooded streets by taking a detour to Interstate 45 South and then on to Interstate 10 East. The rain was pouring harder, and visibility was very poor.

     Suddenly I noticed a big truck a few feet in front of my car. I slammed on my brakes very hard to avoid hitting the truck, but by doing so my six-year-old car, a 1968 Ford, spun around. Fortunately there was no vehicle following us, but the 360-degree turn scared both of us.

     After recovering from the shock, I pulled my car from the service road and got back to the freeway. The radio was reporting a tornado watch until 10 o’clock that night. Visibility had gotten worse. I could hardly see the vehicles in front of me, but we proceeded back to Beaumont.

     Driving in severe weather, I felt that my future in America was facing the same difficult condition. With an uncertain future, I did not know what to do next.

     Then I thought about my parents and my family in Taiwan. They expected me to find a better life in America. This was why I came to the United States. Yes, I had the master’s degree that I wanted, but my difficulties would surely disappoint all the members of my family back home.

     Now I must make a decision. Should I go back to Taiwan or should I pursue my American dream? If I went back to Taiwan, I’d disappoint my wife, who insisted we stayed in America. If I stayed in America, I must have a green card, or a permanent resident visa.

     The rains did not let down. The heavy downpour was hitting my roof and windshield relentlessly. I told my wife it was very dangerous to keep on driving, and we decided to pull out of the freeway. I parked my car on the service road.

     With the car engine dead, the rain and the bad weather became more apparent. My wife and I remained silent, hoping for the rain to stop. Suddenly, I felt very sad. I thought of the many obstacles in my pursuit of a better life. I told myself to be strong. I couldn’t be a loser.

     (To be continued)