Our Nini

You'd be proud of your classmates, Nini. Your teachers, too. This first week without you was a kick in the gut. Even now, we stumble in the middle of speaking, walking, breathing. How can this be? Our minds will not comprehend your passing.

Nini Pham

Only days before, I have scolded you in my English class.

"You didn't follow the assignment," I explain, "which was to write about a grandparent."

"But I want to write about my mom," you say with that quiet stubbornness I know so well. "She's had an interesting life, and I want to share her story."

You are never a demanding child, but you are a determined one, and I suddenly lose the will to argue.

"Fine, Nini," I sigh. "Do it your way."

Even though you're pale and unwell, I am irritated and hardly bother to ask you about your ailing asthma. But the essay you read to all of us about your brave mother - a young woman who left VietNam with your father to come to America - touches and inspires us all. Was that only a week ago Monday, Nina?

When your principal Jordan Engle summons us with the news that you've collapsed, your teachers gather together at school. Some weep, others sit dazed in the school library. There is nothing much to say, but we find comfort in the nearness of each other.

Your religion teacher Mrs.Dee Hanssen springs into action rocking Mrs. Amy May's baby daughter, handing out bottled water, leading a Rosary. With Father Sid Bruggeman, she quickly prepares the chapel for a hastily arranged Mass.

Her small but kind ministrations soothe us and strangely bring helpless tears to my eyes. Praying fervently together in the newly renovated chapel, still smelling of new paint and fresh pine, your teachers give you to Jesus.

Nini, center, with her little sister Tina
and Tina's best friend Lillie Encinger.

After Mass in the school hallway, small Lillie Encinger runs straight to teacher Jennifer Koralewski. The best friend of your little sister, Lillie sobs in Mrs. Koralewski's arms. I will never forget how Sheridan Puncochar, a sweet eighth grade girl filled with concern for her distressed friend, pats Lillie awkwardly on her shoulder.

All week long your classmates and teachers reach out to each other.

Your own best friend Lizzie Calderon drives to Omaha to be with your family in your hospital room. She is with you until the very end when your family must make the terrible decision to remove you from life support.

Your cheerleader sponsors Kate Schendt and Makenzie Mudloff lovingly paste scrapbook photos together for your grieving family. Mr. Engle, in only his second year as principal, rises to the task at hand and works hard to make all our kids feel safe.

That first day back at school, comfort dogs receive GICC students in the library. Father Jim Golka who patiently ministered to you and your family in the hospital now counsels your friends through the terrible first day without you. Emilie Ziller, a fellow cheerleader, silently leaves class to pull herself together and prop up others. I am dreading the thought of your empty desk in English class, but Ashlyn Kucera wordlessly slips into your seat to fill in the gaping space.

Nini and best friend Lizzie Calderon

Hardly able to speak, your classmate Raegan Gellatly asks me finally if she might have the poem she wrote about you in English. I make sure also to give Miss Lucy Long, our student teacher, the beautiful poem you penned.

"Miss Long is like a cup of tea - " you wrote. "Calm, relaxed, nice. Making me feel warm inside."

We long for these small momentoes of your life. They make you seem very close.

At the end of the week when we know you are safely in Heaven and funeral arrangements have been made, we all relax a little and begin to conduct business as usual.

Miss Long poses a question to our 6th mod senior English class: Would you rather possess more intelligence than good looks or more good looks than intelligence?

Nini with classmate and
homecoming date
Russ Martinez.

Without hesitation class clown Sam Herbek replies, "I'm fortunately lucky enough to possess both."

We laugh. We laugh hard. Maybe too hard. It's a great release and the beginning of healing.

Your classmates will graduate without you next year. They will attend college and work and marry and raise families. Eager to gather at good ol' GICC for a class reunion in the far distant future, they'll return as gray-haired grandparents. But you, Nini, will always be16.

Someone will say, "Remember the day Colby Setlick accidentally set off the fire alarm in weight lifting class?"

Others will remember with great laughter the dead goose seniors buried behind the track memorializing its grave with cast off corsages and boutonnieres.

They will recall Mrs. Peter's glorious lunches, Tanner Turek's undying passion for the losing Cleveland Browns, and Johnny Partington's stellar dance performance at Homecoming.

Finally, someone will say, bringing a hushed silence, "That was the year we lost Nini."

Nini Pham
2002-2019

Today we say our last goodbyes. At Blessed Sacrament Church, Father Marty Egging reminds us during your funeral of your courageous decision to leave the devout faith of your good Vietnamese family and to embark on your own journey to Catholicism. Last year you are confirmed and even teach CCD classes with your best buddy Lizzie.

"Nini longed for Christ," Father Marty says simply.

Your 16-year-old faith is our biggest comfort, dear Nini. Thank you for that last gift. Thank you for the smile that crinkled your nose, your swinging pony tail, and your infectious laugh.

Somewhere you're laughing and dancing and leaping with Jesus in a lovely place of light.

We will see you there, sweet Nini.

KoriAnne Moslander

KoriAnne Moslander brims with excitement - even more so than usual. She and her Central Catholic dance team have just been named Class C state champs for the tenth year in a row.

“It was all so worth the work - the 6 a.m. practices and breaking down every move,” she beams. “We were all crying, but we know we have to work hard next year to make it happen again.”

KoriAnne, a GICC junior, is a vivacious, smiling teenage girl. Good grades, state championships and making new friends all come easily to her. She seems, for all the world, to have the privileged life every kid dreams of.  People are amazed to hear otherwise.

KoriAnne Moslander and grandmother Donetta Nye

“My grandma saved my life,” KoriAnne says simply. “She’s the only parent I have, and she’s my best friend.”

Before she arrived at Central Catholic as a sophomore, KoriAnne was unwilling to share much of her life with her new friends and classmates. Growing up, she felt relentlessly bullied in her old town and high school. Kids refused to include her because of her family history, and finally her grandmother convinced her to move to Grand Island and attend Grand Island Central Catholic.

“I tell her now it was the best decision ever,” KoriAnne grins. “My friends are like family, and I feel connected to everybody. Classes can be hard, but they’re really good.”

KoriAnne didn’t immediately share her story with her new friends in Grand Island, but as she began to build relationships and trust her classmates, she confided to them little by little her traumatic start in life.

“My parents were divorced before I was born,” she says quietly, “and they both suffered with addiction.”

Although her father was able to conquer his own addiction, her mother could not. KoriAnne was two months old when her mother left her alone at home with her three-year-old brother and forgot about them both. KoriAnne’s grandparents - her dad’s parents - stepped in to remove the children from their mother’s home. Although KoriAnne’s father was able to conquer his addiction, several years later he died.

Grand Island Central Catholic State Championship Dance Team: First row
from left- Taryn Dimmitt, Ellie Alberts, Aubrey Moritz, KoriAnne
Moslander. Second row from left - Stephanie Huntwork, Kathryn
Rohweder, Tatum Hedman, Kennedi Henke, Coach Erin Neuhaus.
Last row - Coach Nicole Hicken

Donetta Nye is actually KoriAnne’s great-grandmother and just celebrated her 80th birthday. When she and her husband took in their two small great-grandchildren, Donetta had to learn how to diaper a baby all over again

“She told me she’d never used disposable diapers!” KoriAnne laughs. “When she took care of her own kids and grandkids, it was with cloth diapers and safety pins.”

Nevertheless, KoriAnne’s great grandparents provided the stability their two little great-grandchildren had never experienced. Tyler, KoriAnne’s brother, is on his own now. He’s very protective of his little sister, KoriAnne says.

“But my grandma and I are pretty much everything to each other,” she says.

A few years ago when KoriAnne’s great-grandfather died, she helped her grieving great-grandmother.

 “When my dad died, Grandma did everything she could to help me. So when Grandpa died, I knew I had to help my grandma through that.”

Even at 80, Donetta Nye is a busy, active woman. The long time director of the St. Paul Senior Center, she often brought a small KoriAnne to work with her. The little girl enchanted the senior citizens, and every Thursday KoriAnne danced for the residents. She loved accompanying her grandmother to work and hanging out with her elderly clients.

“My grandma is so extraordinary,” KoriAnne shakes her head. “She’s the most caring, super-wise, most educated person in the world. She’s overly generous and has the hugest heart.”

Though KoriAnne has many good friends, she prefers to be with her grandmother more than anybody else. They spend time together every night and giggle uproariously together.

“We love The Bachelor,” KoriAnne laughs, “and making fun of those stupid girls. I also got Grandma into taking funny selfies, and she poses with me all the time. She tells me all her crazy stories, and I can tell her anything.”

KoriAnne plans to study respiratory therapy at UNO after she graduates next year. She’d also like to specialize in Alzheimer’s care since her grandfather suffered from the disease.

“I’m pretty sure Grandma will move to Omaha with me when it’s time,” KoriAnne says, “and I couldn’t be happier about that.”

She smiles her radiant smile.

“Grandma’s my rock. I love her so much.”

Beverly Yax

Beverly Yax is a breath of fresh air.

Beverly Yax, GICC senior

Bursting into class, she greets friends with her laughing brown eyes and mega-watt smile. On this bleak afternoon in January, Bev floods my classroom with her own particular sunlight.

"Here's my best friend - the queen of the ball!" she congratulates her friend Ciara, another lively student in Senior English just crowned Winter Ball queen at our Central Catholic school dance last weekend. "I was so mad at you when you danced with my date," Bev teases Ciara before giggling like the sweet school girl she is.

It is always like this. Bev radiates smiles and warmth and cheer. I never suspect life is anything but untroubled for this adorable girl. She works hard for her nearly flawless grades, competes joyfully with her friends on the cross country team, and is universally adored by all who know her.

Two years ago as a sophomore, however, Beverly's world turns upside down. The girl who comes to school every day with a gleeful smile leads a far from untroubled life. Only days before Christmas, Beverly's mother is arrested at her work place by immigration officials for possessing a false identity. She immediately phones Bev at home and calmly instructs her to call her big brother Abidan who lives and works in Lincoln.

"Mom!" Bev sobs over the phone. "How can you be so calm?"

"Leave it in the hands of God," her mother soothes.

It is almost, Bev believes, as if her mother has known for 18 years that this moment will come.

Long ago when Bev's mother is 16-years-old living in Guatemala with her own widowed mom and 12 siblings, she flees with her 17-year-old boyfriend Benjamin to Los Angeles. Benjamin Yax speaks English and quickly finds a job as an electrician. Juana, however, speaks no English. Nevertheless, she finds work as a maid and diligently saves money to support her large family back in Guatemala.

When she and Benjamin marry, they decide to move to Grand Island to raise their family. Because Juana is an illegal immigrant, she purchases a fake social security number from a woman in California. It's the only way she will be able to find work, and her Guatemalan family is depending on her. The woman, however, tells Juana it will cost 10,000 dollars. For five years, Juana and Benjamin work hard to pay off their debt. Juana never uses the fake social security number for anything except a job application, but the worry of discovery hangs constantly over her.

In Grand Island, Benjamin and Juana raise their three children Abidan, Bev and Bambi. Juana finds a good job at JBS, and Benjamin works for Ziller Tile. The Zillers, all Central Catholic graduates, convince the Yaxes to send their hard working children to GICC. Benjamin and Juana have dreams for their children. Although Ben is a high school graduate, Juana has only a fifth grade education. Their children, the couple is determined, will go to college.

With exceptional sacrifice on their part, they manage to send both Abidan and Beverly to Central Catholic. Abidan is athletic, and Bev is smart. While the kids thrive, Benjamin and Juana's marriage falters. Benjamin begins drinking. Not long after, he is unfaithful to Juana. Then one day as Juana works hard at her job, immigration officials raid the office to arrest her. In a fell swoop, life has fallen apart for the Yax family.

Juana is released on bond, but there is every reason to believe she will be deported. Because her mother is forbidden to work, Bev finds a full time job to help support her family. She pushes away from her good friends and refuses to go to school. Never has she felt more alone.

When she doesn't appear at GICC for two weeks, GICC comes to her. Principal Kristen Klein and Spanish teacher Amy May show up at the door of the Yax family home.

"I'll never forget that day," Bev recalls. "Mrs. Klein talked me into coming back to school. She told me Central Catholic would be there for me and would find a way to help with tuition."

Her friends and teachers, especially religion teachers Deb Houdek and Mary Wiles, support her through the next 14 months.

Bev with friends Ciara Hernandez, left, and Kenna
Culler, right.

"They were so good to me," Bev smiles tremulously. "I couldn't have gotten through that time without them." Mrs. Houdek is always there to listen, she says, and it's Miss Wiles who helps Bev with her faith.

"Our family is not Catholic," Bev says, "but in 7th grade, Miss Wiles taught our class the Rosary. It's become my very favorite prayer and makes me feel so close to God." She sighs raggedly. "Once I thought God was against me, but now I know he's always been with me."

In spite of her 40 hour work week at the Field House, Bev manages to stay on top of her nearly 4.0 grade average and even participates in softball and basketball. Her school and friends are the lifeline she needs. Just before her junior year, though, as she and her family wait anxiously for her mother's court date, Bev injures her knee and must have surgery. Because of her mother's illegal status, the family has no Medicaid insurance, and Bev and her father must pay for her surgery.

"St. Francis helped us, but the rest was up to us," she explains. "We have six thousand dollars still to go," she flashes a hopeful smile, "but we're getting there!"

In the meantime, her mother and father have worked on their marriage.

"Find God, and go to AA!" Juana insists of her husband. He does, and only recently is baptized at Centro Vida Christian Church. It's a great day for the Yax family.

In February, Juana's court date is finally scheduled. Bev is terrified, and so am I. She will miss school, she explains, but promises to let me know the results of the hearing. All that day at school I stare at the clock waiting for a text from Bev. During 8th period, at the end of the day, she all at once appears in the doorway of my classroom. We stare at each other, and I wait.

"It's okay!" she sobs. Running to me, she flings her arms around my neck, and the two of us grip each other, oblivious to the stares of my startled 11th grade American Lit students.

It's scary going to the courthouse, Bev tearfully explains. For the first time in her life, she sees hardened criminals all around her. When it's time for her mother to appear before the judge, Bev says, Juana apologizes. She describes to the judge her dilemma of trying to find work in the United States to care for her mother and younger siblings. Then it's Bev's turn to speak to the judge.

"If you take away my mother," Bev pleads, "you take away my family. My little sister would have to go to Guatemala with our mother. We would all be split up."

The judge decides in their favor, and even the prosecutors apologize to the Yax family. "You're a good family," one attorney pumps all their hands. "I'm sorry for all you've endured."

Never has Bev been so happy.

"I don't have a family like everybody else at Central Catholic," she admits. In awe, she sees the way her classmates' parents anticipate their children's every need and smooth their way. Bev, in the meantime, is still working 40 hours a week. Her mother will not be able to work until her immigration status is resolved, and Bev must help pay the family bills and her surgery balance. Nevertheless, she's as happy as she's ever been.

"My family is together," she smiles, her face alight, "and I have the support of this school and my friends. It's all I need."