Friday Vietnam was robbed at gunpoint. The intention was to grab him coming out of the house but since he went out a little earlier the man got him at the bus stop.  The man put a gun to his head and took his cash, his bracelet and his Senior Year Graduation Ring (1974).  The man then hit him and took him to the ground, told him he was going to kill him right then and there. The bus that usually picks up Vietnam stopped as usual, full of passengers, saw Nam' on the floor, pleading for help and no one did anything.  They drove off.  They didn't even honk the horn or scream or call the cops. They just left him there to die. He didn't die though. The delincuent ran off. Nam', for the first time in a long time cried.  He said he thought of us, of his granddaughter, of life. Police were notified, he went off to work.  He couldn't bare stay at home alone, waiting for me. I took him to get a new phone, almost killed the lady behind the counter when she wanted to charge us $107 for a new phone, when he has insurance. The man almost got his brains blown off, show some sympathy. I managed to get him a new phone free of charge. I made dinner for him and took him to the Precint to look at mug shots. He made dinner for me on Sunday. Yesterday I watched the Home Run Derby with him (by the way Hamilton rocked with 28 runs). We had quite a scare, but I guess in some sick sense, it has made Vietnam a lil' bit nicer, a little bit more like a dad.