A Love That Changed Everything
- Danae Hendrickson
- Jun 13
- 5 min read
From the desk of Richard Theurer Jr., Lam Vong Circle Member (and Danae’s dad!)
My story and connection with the beautiful country of Laos came about because of love. As a young man, born and raised in the state of North Dakota, USA, there was never a thought of falling in love with—let alone marrying—someone from another country.
It was the late 1970s. I had finished college and taken a job in the produce department of a local grocery store. Shortly thereafter, the owner hired a beautiful young lady from the country of Laos. I came to find out that she was part of a family sponsored by a local church, straight out of a refugee camp in Thailand. As time went on and we worked closely together, we fell in love.
Fast forward a year, we were married on August 7, 1982. The first of our three children, a son, came along that same year, and we were blessed again in 1991 and 1999 with two beautiful daughters. Little did we know then that years later, our second-born, Danae, would find her roots in Laos in a very special way.
My wife, Chantai, had not returned to Laos since her escape in 1978. As a result, we made plans to return in the summer of 2001. This was a huge step for us both. I had never been out of the United States, and Tai was nervous to go back. Nonetheless, we packed our bags and took our chances.
My excitement level was high—I was ready to capture all the emotion of my wife seeing her mother and siblings for the first time in over 25 years. Landing in the capital city of Vientiane and then driving to southern Laos was an adventure in itself. There were all manner of animals crossing the road and many other obstacles along the way. I was all eyes taking in the stunning landscape of her country.
We arrived about six hours later in her village of Ban Na Pheng, tired but excited to meet the family. I had the video camera ready to roll for an emotional reunion. It was over in moments—mother and daughter held each other’s shoulders, exchanged a brief glance, and moved on to the next person. I learned her family was not given to much outward emotion. I should have realized this sooner, as Tai herself was not a very emotional person.
Over the next week, many people came to the house to see Tai—and this strange American man who ate and loved their food. They were amazing cooks and seemed to get a kick out of my appreciation for their dishes. I’ve learned that you need to enjoy every moment in life that you can, as these times can never be repeated. We learned this in a very real way, as this was the last time we would ever return to Laos together.
We traveled with a classmate of Tai’s, Osa, and her husband, Mickey, from the States. They had not been back in over 20 years, either. Mickey and I would commandeer a couple of bikes in the mornings and ride to the nearest town for coffee and breakfast. I also loved their chicken on a stick and would usually bring one back to the village for the household to enjoy. We visited the mountains, several nearby towns, and the school that Tai and her classmate had attended as children.
The visit was nothing short of amazing. I fell in love with the people of Laos and their beautiful country. On one of our many walks through the streets of Ban Na Pheng, I noticed perfectly round fish ponds throughout the village. Because they were so symmetrical, I felt they could not be natural. When I asked about them, I was told these were craters left by bombs the USA had dropped during the “Secret War.” I later learned that the U.S. had dropped more bombs on Laos during the war than any other country, per capita, in history. This was a very sobering revelation.
The people of Ban Na Pheng were forced to flee their homes and villages on at least three separate occasions due to the bombing. I have always hated war, but here it became very personal.
As life often goes, our family was thrown a terrible curveball. Sometime after our last daughter, Makenzie, was born, my beautiful bride Chantai was diagnosed with ALS—Lou Gehrig’s disease. For the next 10 years, we battled together. We won some of the battles, but eventually, we lost the fight.
During one of the treatments called chelation, which removes harmful heavy metals from the body, we discovered that Tai had dangerously high levels of cadmium and uranium in her system–metals used in bomb-making. I knew immediately where these metals had originated. The fish raised in the bomb craters of her village were eaten by the locals. Heavy metal poisoning was the end result for my beautiful bride—and who knows how many others. The past was making its appearance in our lives in a very real way. My hatred for war deepened.
I also came to find out that the cluster bombs dropped on Laos did not all explode on impact. Millions remain to this day in the soil across the countryside, maiming and killing those who come across them in rice fields or during any digging. A tragedy of enormous proportion.
But this is where our family’s story takes a turn for the better.
An amazing organization called Legacies of War, which works to raise awareness of these unexploded bombs, or “ordnance,” was looking to hire someone who would fit well into their awareness family. Danae applied and was hired for this truly meaningful position.
Today, she is often the voice and face bringing awareness to the much-needed demining of these unexploded ordnance in Laos. Life has come full circle for our family. Chantai would be so very proud of the advocate Danae has become for the people of Laos. I know I am. Laos is never far from the hearts of my three children—especially Danae’s.
I’m honored to support Legacies of War in this life-saving effort to “right a wrong.”
I will always hate war. My life would have been forever changed if a young Laotian girl had not had the courage to escape and journey to the United States so many years ago, to find this lonely young boy.
I give all glory to God for hearing and answering my prayers.
