June 18th, 2024:

My name should have been Shirley Truong.

I smile to myself every time I get to tell the story - I would’ve proudly been Shirley Truong knowing that I would have been the namesake of a wonderful woman. But that woman - Shirley Schultheis - was the one that refused to let it happen.

I’ve written a tribute to Grandpa Gene (link to tribute here) (Shirley’s husband) when he passed away 11 years ago, outlining how their unselfishness “chose us” as family. My parents, refugees from Vietnam (link to their story here), during the fall of the Vietnam war, found themselves in this country with nothing but the clothes and shoes they were wearing when they left. They were the only ones of their family to make the blind journey to the United States, and did not meet until they were here in California where all refugees initially ended up. Due to overwhelming kindness of compassionate strangers, my grandparents Carl and Yolando Urbano sponsored my mom and brought her to their home in San Antonio Texas, and this community in Colton brought my dad and other refugees here to help them get settled and to have a better life. Gene and Shirley chose my dad and decided to make him their own. When my mom and dad married, she moved up to Colton and they settled their life here in this little town of Colton in this new country that they knew nothing about. Me and my 3 brothers were born and raised here and during that time - Gene and Shirley taught my parents everything. Gene and Shirley gave them everything. They gave them a house to live in for 13 years at the top of the hill on McGregor Street, so my parents could save every penny to buy the house they live in now. They taught them English, helped them get jobs, and above all taught them valuable lessons about living life - mostly, in my opinion, about the goodness of people. The majority of my parents life they were living in war. They were only children when the Vietnam War started, and when they escaped they were still only teenagers. They had seen and experienced unimaginable things and truly, war is the worst of humanity. My grandparents, Gene and Shirley, with the goodness of their hearts saved them from that. They taught them how the world can be kind. Humanity can be generous. And that’s what my grandparents gave me.

My Grandma Shirley was my biggest encourager, beacon of kindness, living example of a strong, independent woman who had value - who had depth - and a laugh that could only make your heart sing. While she herself did not demand excellence, her presence in our lives made you want to achieve it. I can’t tell you how many poor renditions of the Star Spangled Banner she made me play on her piano but treated it like hearing Mozart for the first time. She read a poem I wrote that was published in The Daily News when I was in 4th grade, and she sent me a card telling me how beautiful of a writer I was and to never stop - so here I am, still writing. She told me at a baby shower once that I had the most perfect smile because it was my fathers and she hoped I would always love it as much as she did - and it’s always been my most treasured asset. And my grandparents taught me the value of a helping and loving community and I have dedicated my professional life to nonprofit work every single day to build more compassionate communities. To make my grandparents proud of me for the priceless gifts they’ve given me has always been a driving force for who I am and many purposes in my life. And every moment I’d give them credit for it, they would humbly refuse to accept they had anything to do with it. They set the standard for goodness simply by being who they were. They showed us what compassion is. They showed us what it means to be a parent and the personal sacrifices you make for your kids. They showed us how to lead by example. They showed us how to be kind - and I mean truly welcoming to others. The phrase “the more the merrier” is one I use often to describe what my family is like and that is because of Gene and Shirley. They taught us how simple words can stick for a lifetime. They were salt of the earth, they were grateful. They were steadfast and they were charming. They lived a life of travel and adventure and showed us how we are all so beautifully imperfect, and worthy of the utmost love any way. Simply put, they showed us everything.

So as the story has been told to me: after all Shirley had done for my parents and this family (and no doubt continued to do throughout our lives) they thought it was the perfect gift to name their first daughter Shirley after her. But when they presented Shirley with this idea they had come up with, Shirley in disgust said “you cannot name her Shirley! I hate that name!” So they said well we would be honored if you chose the baby’s name instead if you don’t want her to be Shirley - and then she named me Elizabeth. So instead of being Shirley’s namesake, in a most unselfish act of love, Grandma Shirley re-named me for my sake. And while I would’ve gladly taken Shirley as my name, the story has given me a life long opportunity whenever someone asks me why my name is Elizabeth or why I’m the only American name in my family - I get to tell them all about who Shirley really was to my family, the living example of goodness she was in this world, and the deeply profound love that she gave me.

May she rest in peace.