Huang Yisheng has no regrets. What are the performances in the article?

Mr. Huang and Senator Fan. Photo courtesy of Liu Huangtian.

20 12 12 2 1 February, Mr. Huang, a senior American journalist, famous writer, social activist, honorary president of the Plum Blossom Literature Society in San Francisco and lifelong president of Plum Blossom Literature magazine, died in the hospital at the age of 80. Colleagues were deeply saddened by the bad news.

Recalling June 5438+February a year ago, I returned to San Francisco from China and visited Mr. Huang's home. I was delighted to learn that this old man who had undergone hemodialysis three times a week had completed the final "huge wave" of the trilogy. "My long-cherished wish has come true, and the big stone in my heart has finally been put down!" His smile is so bright. I almost cried in the dark, which meant a hard struggle.

He finished this 220,000-word manuscript like this: the next day he went to the hospital for hemodialysis three times a week, he was in good spirits. He got up at 5: 00 in the morning, seized the time and left the computer to lie in bed until his physical strength was exhausted. Later, due to asthma caused by a cold, when he went to the dialysis machine, he also prepared oxygen delivery equipment next to him. A weak body supports a thoughtful mind. Fortunately, this novel has been brewing for many years, and it has been written smoothly.

I am the first lucky person to have a chance to read. This new book, together with the previously completed Run, Rush, constitutes a long scroll of the fate of Chinese in North China in the past hundred years. It is an indispensable perceptual reference for the history of contemporary overseas Americans and a monument to the history of overseas Chinese literature.

Mr. Huang is one of the leading Chinese writers living in the United States. His life is magnificent, ups and downs, spanning two countries, two systems and two contexts, from the experience of the bottom workers to his career as a journalist, all of which are attributed to literary creation and translation. His life accumulation is extremely rich and profound.

I first met Mr. Huang in 198 1 years ago. I was a new immigrant who "went to the port" not long ago. I experienced the hardships and embarrassment at the beginning of local jumping in line, foreign jumping in line and uprooting, and I had a whole experience. As for the literary dream, it has long been crowded out by various urgent matters such as making up English to support the family. I was an intern in a western restaurant at that time. On a rest day, the poet Lao Nan walked on the road with great interest. The two of us walked along a zigzag alley near Chinatown and walked into the former site of the times. Lao Nan wrote a new poem with me before going abroad, and after emigrating, he became more like brothers.

Entering the newspaper office, Mr. Huang, the president and editor-in-chief, received us in a small room filled with white paper, ink and various Chinese and English reading materials. At that time, I was in my early 30 s, Lao Nan was in my early 40 s, and Mr. Huang was in my early 50 s. The characteristic of * * * was full of confidence in tomorrow.

President Huang introduced the operation of the newspaper, introduced the volunteers of the newspaper to us and encouraged us to write for the times. 1986 In the spring, under the recommendation of Mr. Chen Zhongmei, a famous literary figure in Mount Tai, Lao Nan and I joined the newspaper office. I'm the editor of the California news page, and he's the proofreader. This is the only white-collar worker I have been in the United States for 30 years. I have a big desk made of mahogany in the attic of a warehouse brick-wood building at Amsterdam Street 1600. Mr. Huang is the president and editor-in-chief, but he often goes out, and the daily editorial affairs are in the charge of deputy editor Meng, who is from the Department of Political Economy.

President Huang is very modest. He always comes in quietly at work. He works nervously in an open office, separated by a row of bookshelves. He never bossed his subordinates around, always spoke in a consultative tone and never checked the supervision. He never keeps reporters and editors after they make mistakes.

In those days, there were twenty or thirty editors, typists, printers, publishers and handymen running such a daily newspaper. Their salaries were all above 1000 yuan, but their advertising income was very small. As a legal representative, he mainly makes money. 1986165438+10, at noon, we gathered in the simple restaurant outside the underground kitchen to have lunch cooked by the chef as usual. After dinner, President Huang, with a dignified face, announced a sudden news to the effect that due to the exhaustion of financial resources, he was unable to operate and immediately stopped publishing. They packed their things in a hurry and said goodbye in surprise.

In the last issue of the newspaper, the president's open letter appeared on the front page, including many dissatisfaction. It turns out that President Huang has been trying to raise funds for the long-term operation of the newspaper. However, he hit a wall everywhere and had to settle it.

After leaving the newspaper for more than 20 years, the social networking site was sold. In order to commemorate some back issues of American Chinese literature magazines, I wandered around them for a long time.

The desk in the editorial department, the paintings on the wall, the old fax machine dedicated to receiving Associated Press telegrams, the books and newspaper clippings on the bookshelf are all the same, but they are covered with thick dust for a long time, which has taught me infinite feelings.

During that time, Mr. Huang's mood was also at a low point. I fully understood at that time that he, as the first newspaper reporter in China community who supported the people of China most actively and selflessly and promoted the new China, founded the times on his own at 1972. His property is a second-hand typewriter that cost 200 dollars. He struggled all the way to make up for the loss of running a newspaper by working. How patriotic he is.

After 14 years, the fantasy was partially shattered and the strong man broke his arm. What helplessness and regret!

The Times has been closed for a quarter of a century. Over the years, Mr. Huang and I have been very close. My house is only about twenty blocks away from his wife's house, and I can walk there. After bidding farewell to the press, this excellent senior reporter who is proficient in both Chinese and English has been working nonstop, presiding over the business of a translation company as a registered official document translator, and devoted himself to literary writing and social activities, and participated in the creation of the heyday of Chinese literature in the San Francisco Bay Area since the 1849 gold rush.

His residence on 27th Street has become a gathering place for intellectuals. Numerous times, meetings, parties and dinners were held, and the editorial department of American Chinese Literature held activities to welcome visitors from China's cultural circles. Two or three friends, each with a glass of red wine, looked at the blue sea spread out outside the shutters of his restaurant. A bloody sunset slowly sank, and it sprinkled gold on the literary friends who talked about the romantic life in ancient and modern times. This is an elegant and exotic Lanting. Mr. Huang is a mentor, friend, benefactor, guide and close friend of me and many people who grew up, lived and worked in the San Francisco Bay Area (not only new immigrants like me, but also generations of overseas students in China, including local compatriots and people of different nationalities, ages, occupations and cultural backgrounds).

He has run newspapers for more than 20 years, from the East-West Daily, which is a president, editor-in-chief, journalist, artist, typesetter and publisher, to The Times, which enjoys high prestige in the press. Accordingly, he can be called a senior reporter. He has been engaged in literary creation for nearly 40 years, and his short stories have been selected in China's novels for many times. The novel trilogy can be regarded as an epic masterpiece that records the struggle of American immigrants in the United States. Therefore, he can be called a famous writer.

/kloc-immigrated to the United States at the age of 0/5 and was persecuted by Marxism. In order to fight for the right to life, speech, publication and political participation of Chinese Americans in the United States, he was a popular leader in the Chinese community when he was young. Therefore, he can be called a civil rights fighter.

He has served as the leader of several societies for three consecutive years and the president of the American Chinese Literature and Art Association in San Francisco; /kloc-president of plum blossom literature magazine for 0/5 years; Mr. Wang Dingjun, a literary master living in new york, called him "the Meng Changjun of American Chinese literature", so he can be called an excellent cultural activist.

As for me, as a junior who often asks him for benefits, I think it is more appropriate to call him an outstanding idealist.

Idealism runs through his life. From youth to old age, he is always passionate about dedication. For the benefit of the public, for the recognized truth and goal, he went to the front line of the struggle without hesitation, regardless of personal gains and losses. Time has passed, and we may not all agree with the "ideals" he defended in those years (and he may not agree with them himself). However, we will always admire this passion and religious piety.

In the 30 years before our immigration (1950s, 1960s and 1970s), we failed to witness Mr. Huang's outstanding contribution to the Chinese community in San Francisco. However, seven or eight years ago, I participated in the celebration of the 30th anniversary of the establishment of the China Progressive Association. I know in part that among the young men and women who took the struggle as their responsibility and enthusiastically participated in the social transformation movement in ABC, Maurice Chuck (Mr.' s English name) was their favorite leader, from protesting the Vietnam War of the US government, participating in the civil rights movement initiated by Dr. King, and opposing the ubiquitous racial discrimination. They are burning with endless passion. Seeing hundreds of participants stand up, shouting Mr. Huang's name and applauding him, my eyes filled with tears.

These compatriots, accused by conservatives as radical, speak standard American English. Compared with us new immigrants who have not yet entered the mainstream society, their ideological level and investment in social affairs are of course much higher. Members of Huaqing, who often clashed with the police during the parade, have entered a stable middle age, but they still miss Mr. Huang's early teaching and support. Among them, there is a middle-aged Japanese woman. When Mr. Huang ran the English-Chinese edition of The Times, she was still a college student. She used to be a volunteer editor of the English version of the newspaper, and now she is the chief lawyer of Pacific Coal and Electricity Company. She recalled the struggles of those years and thanked Morris again and again.

As for what I experienced, what moved me most was that he founded the magazine American Chinese Literature. 1In the winter of 994, Mr. Huang invited Lao Nan, me, Wang Xingchu, Zheng Qixian and other literary friends living in San Francisco to discuss the establishment of literary magazines. He has been running a newspaper for many years. How can he not know the market? "If you want to hurt a friend, you should encourage him to run a magazine", which spread from Taiwan Province Province to the United States and was proved again and again. However, he said firmly that he was prepared to pay the price. And that's what happened. At first, it was called the American Chinese cultural person, published in the form of a newspaper, and later changed to a magazine. It was 16, and it was not until 20 1 1 that he handed the bat when his body was in pieces.

His persistence is not out of love for the position of "president", but out of sacrifice.

In his later years, he gave the burden to his only daughter Huang. So far, this magazine has published 80 issues. Apart from subscribers and a few sponsors, he (and his daughter) is the only long-term sponsor and the most important sponsor. Generally speaking, his family invested more than $6.5438+0.2 million, without any return. He is not a rich man. Although he and his wife have been working hard in Meida for more than 60 years, they have few assets and there is no problem in maintaining a well-off society. But he is eager for public interest and kindness, and there are countless students who have difficulties in money. The cost of running a magazine was saved by his husband and wife from their daily expenses.

Whenever I think of this old man who never makes public, I look up the dictionary with a magnifying glass, translate the medical manual dedicated to Caesar's hospital system sentence by sentence, forget all about eating and sleeping, and spend the translation money I earned on promoting the great cause of China literature. All our friends who are familiar with him are deeply moved.

There are two scenes that fully show Mr. Huang's lofty prestige and personality charm as an idealist. I was there.

The first time was 1 February, 19981Sunday at Miramar Hotel in San Francisco Chinatown, which was a large-scale dinner to raise money for American Chinese Literature and American Overseas Chinese Literature Series. As the initiator and operator, Mr. Huang accepted the certificate issued by the mayor of San Francisco. The mayor's representative announced on the stage that the day was named "Yellow Day", and more than 400 guests gave thunderous cheers. In the constant applause, Mr. Huang made a speech, warmly thanking his friends and deeply thanking his wife, who supported him without regrets.

The second time was on June 5, 2002, 10, in the restaurant in San Francisco Chinatown, which was Mr. Huang's 70th birthday. Many people secretly connected in series and prepared secretly, and held a very grand birthday party without telling him. What a wonderful surprise!

When he entered the banquet hall, 300 people who met old people and learned new things stood up and applauded warmly. There are cakes, souvenirs and large portraits painted by oil painters on the stage.

At the party, friends came on stage one after another, with American humor and Chinese style, sometimes laughing and sometimes crying, looking back on the days when they got along with Morris. Flash fragments of personal or collective memories, which connect Mr. Huang's life experience in series, are a three-dimensional capitalized China person. He was a miserable young man of 15 years old when he crossed the ocean on the ship "General MiG" in 1948. He is reading Ba Jin's "Death" on the boat, and his blood is surging and the waves are rough.

Today, he stands on the podium, at the peak of his life, and sets an example for a generation of overseas China people with the Golden Gate Bridge in the Pacific Ocean as the background.

Mr. Huang left a will to hold an unfair funeral before his death, but his wife and daughter said that a "celebration banquet" would be held next year 1 month.

Yes, we are going to celebrate Mr. Huang's 80-year-old glory. He struggled all his life, struggled all his life and devoted all his life. He has no regrets, only gratification. Mr Huang, Ji Yun, rest in peace!

Please adopt

If you agree with my answer, please adopt it in time.

~ If you agree with my answer, please click the button "Adopt as Satisfied Answer" in time.

~ ~ friends who ask questions on mobile phones can only be satisfied with the evaluation points in the upper right corner of the client.

~ Your adoption is my motivation.

~~O(∩_∩)O, remember to praise the adoption and help each other.