Dogmeat, anyone?

Korea by a Korean-American "kyo-po": Part 1. A series of highlights from my family's recent trip to Korea.

My parents immigrated to the States in the late 70’s. They landed in Salinas, California, near Monterey Bay. As my grandfather’s broken English and my broken Korean could theoretically make one whole, the following is what I understand of the family’s immigration story, with the caveat that some of it might just be plain wrong, however unintentional.

My grandfather worked on an American army base in Korea. My dad grew up horsing around with G.I.’s, listening to the Beatles and eating burgers and dogs. (Those three things are still very important to him [and the rest of humanity].) Apparently (and this is where the story might turn fictional), the G.I'.’s cobbled some money together and sponsored my grandfather’s immigration. They also helped him pay for a local 7-11 store, and the rest is history. My grandfather was able to support his family in his new country, and continued buying and selling 7-11’s throughout the 80’s and 90’s and ended up in Milpitas, a town at the southernmost tip of the San Francisco Bay.