A Fallen American Hero, Kham Xiong
By Noah Vang, HT Associate Editor
He doesn't call anymore.
He was a good son and a good soldier. The eldest son from a large family, Kham Xiong would call his parents nearly every evening to check on his family and to give updates on his impending deployment to Afghanistan.
"We talked most nights," says Kham's 52-year-old father, Tong Chor Xiong. "We talked about his days, my days. We shared conservations most fathers and sons do."
They warmly laughed about things they had in common. They agreed to disagree as well. "No matter what my son did, even the things we see differently," says the low-toned Tong Chor, "I always supported him wholeheartedly."
Kham's mother, Panou Xiong, 48, sits quietly in their East Side St. Paul living room with her hands curled around her petite knees. Her eyes are teary and red. She is still confused, trying to iron out why this had happened to her son. "He has done nothing wrong," she says. "He was a good kid."
When Kham left to join the Army, Tong Chor never anticipated that his son would die on America's home soil.
"I would expect him to be hurt abroad in combat protecting other Americans," he adds. "But why here? Why?"
On Nov. 5, Kham, a U.S. Army Private First Class, was among the 13 victims killed by alleged shooter Army Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan at Fort Hood, Texas. He was a psychiatrist at the base who was reportedly preparing to be deployed overseas.
“The shooting at Fort Hood was an unfortunate moment in our history. I didn't believe that it happened,” says Lance Corp. Peter Xiong (no relations). “It's like we're hit at home.” Peter serves in the marines and is a Minnesota native who lives at Camp Peddleton in San Diego, Cali.
Hasan's motive remains unclear, but is being investigated by the Army and FBI. According to reports, several members of Congress are alleging that this shooting rampage may have been an act triggered by extremist ideologies related to Hasan’s religious beliefs.
"As more and more facts surrounding the Fort Hood attack surface, it looks increasingly probable that the alleged attacker, [Hasan], heeded these terrorist calls to violence, compelled by a fanatical religious ideology," wrote US Sen. John Cornyn, of Texas, to the White House. He joined Senate Homeland Security Committee Chairman Joe Lieberman in declaring that this killing by Hasan was "an act of Islamist terrorism."
Cornyn adds, “If Islamist terrorism was the driving force behind the senseless violence at Fort Hood, as it seems to be, this attack must serve as a call to action for the federal government.”
Having survived a gun-fight during the assault, Hasan is held at a San Antonio hospital and has been charged with 13 counts of premeditated murder.
Despite the media storm that swept the family after Kham’s death, things have gotten more quiet at the Xiong’s rented two-story home on the Eastside of St. Paul.
Each time the house phone rings, the reserved mother just stares at it. She does not move towards the phone nor bothers to answer it.
"This time he didn't call on time," the distraught mother speaks slowly. “He will call no more.”
Night of Kham’s death
The night of Kham’s death is still raw in Tong Chor’s memory. Every unanswered phone call. Every empty text. Every ticking moment that passed without word from his son still echoes painfully in his thoughts.
The panic started when the text messages being exchanged by Kham and his wife, Shoua Her, stopped coming from Kham’s end. According to family members, Kham was at the Soldier Readiness Center at Fort Hood waiting his turn to get a physical. Shoua had urged Kham to come home for lunch, but Kham’s last reply indicated that his turn was soon arriving.
Then the messages stopped coming back.
Soon after, news reports began detailing a mass shooting at Fort Hood that took place in the early afternoon. The entire family began to worry, especially when phone calls to Kham’s cell went unanswered.
Tong Chor recalled that by 10PM the family began to stress out about the situation. Shoua eventually went to the site, only to get the run-around. A soldier told her that he may have survived and for her not to worry.
At this point, “We prayed to God that he would not be the victims since there were so many soldiers at the base.”
By 3AM, Shoua kept calling the office when she finally got through. The person who answered the phone said he was killed. “His life is gone,” the person told Shoua.
The family was still in disbelief by the time soldiers came knocking at the Xiong residence in St. Paul at 5AM. Carrying Bibles, the soldiers were there to formally inform the family of the tragic news.
“We were all completely in shock,” recalled Kham’s 17-year-old brother Robert. “It was hard to swallow that our brother was one of the dead soldiers.”