Sue Chin Hong

Sue Chin Hong (鄺愛緒) was born in 1932 in Toishan, China, against the turbulent backdrop of the Civil and Sino-Japanese wars being waged across the country. Much of her early childhood memories were lost to the strife so many families endured at the time, though she would often tell stories of a rural countryside under siege. As a 9-year-old girl, she had by her account run to the mountains several times, whenever the Japanese bombers came, running with those who could escape the village, sleeping for weeks on end under the warmth of the precious cattle they had brought with them, foraging for nuts and berries and flower blossoms and whatever else they could find in the wilderness to survive. As she ran, she would hear the pop-pop-pop of the attacks and would decades later vividly recount what seemed to be fish in the enormous lake exploding upwards as the bombs hit. "Like popcorn," she would say.

1950. As was the custom of the time, she met her future husband only weeks before they were to be married, her classmates and friends asking her if she was afraid of the strange boy who didn't quite look like the other village boys. But she was never afraid, she would say, happily marrying Neville in a large traditional village wedding, him playing his harmonica late into the evening and her accompanying him in song.

A mere four months after the wedding, however, the Communists came and Neville was called back to his native Trinidad with the news of his father's death. With the reluctance of China to allow its citizens to leave and with Trinidad in the throes of extricating itself from British rule, it would be almost 17 years before they would see each other again.

Around 1954, Sue finally escaped Communist China, first solo, then returning months later to bring her young daughter, Jean, with her. It was a perilous journey, and Sue was forced to pay a stranger to bring the 6-year-old Jean past the borders as her own child. The stranger bought Jean modern clothes, curled her hair, taught her a few words to say, and instructed her to call her "mother." It was a tearful moment when they were reunited, and the very real fear of kidnapping could be put to rest. She could breathe a sigh of relief.

The next several years in Hong Kong would prove to be difficult, but the mother-daughter pair developed a rhythm as they settled into daily life. Sue was resourceful, working odd jobs for years until she established herself at a factory with other migrant workers. There she made the things people wanted: curtains, costume jewellery, and the beautiful, colourful beads that she would later take to Trinidad to remember. She was trustworthy and well-respected, and was quickly made supervisor, a position she was so proud to hold. All this while, she and Neville wrote dozens and dozens of letters back and forth across the oceans, love letters that she held tight to and would bring with her to wherever she moved later in life.

In 1968, Trinidad finally granted her permission to immigrate and she again prepared to move, this time halfway around the world. She had by then developed a strong network in Hong Kong, and some 95 of her friends came to say their goodbyes at the airport as she and Jean made the 5-day trip to the recently independent Caribbean island. It would be nothing like Hong Kong, she was warned.

The following year, she gave birth to a son, Peter, and two years after that, another son, Patrick. Trinidad was nothing like she had ever experienced before, true, but she was not unaccustomed to hard work, and she quickly took the reins of the family's tiny village shop where the newly reunited family would live. There she learned a curious Trinidad/Chinese-accented English and peppered it liberally with rural colloquialisms that made it at once indecipherable to outsiders and perfectly understandable to the scores of villagers who came by every day and with whom she formed unlikely friendships. "Miss Sue," they would call out, "how much for a Carib? You could make me a buljol sandwich?"

She spent the next 30 or so odd years in Trinidad, until in 1999, seven years after her Neville had died, when she prepared for her next and final adventure. It was then she moved to New York City. There she spent her days cooking for many of her children's families who had themselves found their way to the Big Apple. She absolutely loved cooking, and relished that she was surrounded by her family—her everything—and where a restaurant trip would invariably come with a "Well I can cook that!" and a hearty discussion on deconstructing her meal.

Again, she embraced her new home and embraced new traditions, and along with it embraced the new members of the family that she so fiercely called hers.

She was strong. She was kind. She was accepting, loving, brave, unafraid. All of the things that made for a beautiful person who lived a remarkable life through remarkable times. She leaves a wonderful legacy of three children, eight grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren, their families and all the incredible love she has created. We will miss you and the love you shared.

Sue. Sim. Ah-Ngeen. Pupu. Gran-Gran. Mummy. We will miss you so very much.

Thanks for all the chow-mein.

A visitation for Sue will be held Saturday, January 13, 2024 from 8:00 AM to 9:00 AM at Forest Park Funeral Home, 114-03 Queens Blvd, Forest Hills, NY 11375. A prayer service will occur Saturday, January 13, 2024 from 9:00 AM to 10:00 AM, 114-03 Queens Blvd, Forest Hills, NY 11375. A committal service will occur Saturday, January 13, 2024 from 11:00 AM to 11:30 AM at Flushing Cemetery, 163-06 46th Avenue, Flushing, NY 11358.