Run of his life
From refugee to US citizen, Lomong hopes long journey ends at Olympics
EUGENE, Ore. - Lopez Lomong was believed dead. As far as his family knew, Lomong was a casualty of Sudan's second civil war. After he was kidnapped by soldiers as a 6-year-old, his parents figured he would not survive the conflict alone. Years passed. The family held a funeral, burying a collection of Lomong's keepsakes instead of a body. A pile of stones marked the grave. Then, the unfathomable happened.
Last December around Christmastime, Lomong reunited with his family after 16 years and returned to Sudan. They visited Lomong's gravesite and performed a second set of rituals.
"We dig all the stones out," said Lomong. "Then, basically they bring me to life again."
Lomong's family knew little of the new life he had made in the United States as one of the Lost Boys of Sudan, of his journey from refugee to American citizen to Olympic hopeful. In the final event of the US Olympic track and field trials at Hayward Field this afternoon, Lomong will have his best chance of qualifying for the team in the 1,500 meters. It will not be easy in a field stacked with talented runners, though Lomong is among the favorites to claim one of three spots. Difficult challenges do not daunt Lomong, not after all he has survived.
Lomong's journey makes the possibility of representing the US at the Beijing Olympics next month particularly meaningful. If he makes the team, Lomong sees it as a way to thank all those who helped him reach this point. The older boys who accompanied and sometimes carried him to the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya where he spent 10 years. His adoptive parents, Robert and Barbara Rogers in Tully, N.Y., where he was relocated and first showed promise as a runner. His coach, John Hayes, who guided him to two NCAA championships at Northern Arizona University.
"Becoming an American citizen was a big step," said Lomong. "I was seeing everything and said, 'Now, I'm not just one of the lost boys, I'm an American. I'm just like any other American out there with my rights and I can compete for the country that I want to compete for because I have my passport.' It's just payback for the people that helped me through my childhood and coming to the US.
"I've come a long way, for sure, from where I was 10 years ago to sitting here now. Running is what I loved to do. Running saved my life."
'This is my home'
While attending Mass in his village of Kimotong in southern Sudan, Lomong and roughly 50 other children were taken from their families by soldiers. After the soldiers told everyone else in the church to lie on the ground, they loaded the children onto a truck for the ride to a military camp. Lomong lived in the camp for three weeks, fearing he might be turned into a soldier and knowing he needed to escape. With the help of three boys, 14- and 15-year-olds, Lomong fled the camp, leaving through a hole in a fence.
"We kept running and running," said Lomong. "We didn't know where we were going, but the whole time they were telling me, 'We're going to see your mom.' I was excited about that."
The boys ran through the Sudanese wilderness until they encountered the Kenyan border patrol. The Kenyans shouted at the boys in Swahili, but they did not understand the language. Once again, Lomong found himself being taken to places unknown. Lomong and his friends soon found themselves in Kakuma in northwestern Kenya. Little did he know it would be a decade before he left the camp, which was home to some 70,000 refugees.
"Life in the refugee camp, a lot of people say it's hustling," said Lomong. "You've got to get your own food, work your way up, and just survive. You have one meal a day. Compared to the US now, I can't even go without breakfast."
It was not even exactly a meal at the Kakuma camp. The United Nations provided refugees with a daily ration of corn, which they turned into bread or porridge.
To keep his mind off the constant hunger and boredom, Lomong and other boys without families ran around the camp and played soccer. They also took care of each other. The older boys would cook for the younger ones. The younger boys would help clean the compound and wash the utensils that belonged to the group. As Lomong grew up, he helped take care of the younger children.
"We were just like family," said Lomong. "For kids who came there older, they probably had more stress about missing their family. For me, I was brainwashed and said, 'This is my home. This is where I will grow up.' "
On one occasion, Lomong received five shillings for helping a man move dirt at the camp. The five Kenyan shillings - approximately a nickel - could pay for a good meal in the camp. But Lomong decided to save the money for something special. Little did he know the five shillings would help him find a distant dream amid the hopelessness of the refugee camp.
Dream sequence
Lomong heard there was a black-and-white television broadcasting the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. For five shillings, he could watch. Lomong took his money and walked the 5 miles to the television with friends. After he arrived and paid, Lomong saw Michael Johnson run for the US. He was mesmerized by the red, white, and blue uniform and the speed of the world record-holder and gold medalist. He wanted to wear the US uniform in competition.
"I thought, if God gives me the talent, I wanted to one day do that," said Lomong. "I saw him run so fast and I said, 'I want to run like that.' "
But Lomong needed more than talent to realize his new dream. He needed luck. About a year after he watched Johnson in the Olympics, Lomong learned from an aid organization agent that the group wanted to resettle 3,500 lost boys in the US.
"Something came over my mind that said, 'Do that. Apply for that,' " said Lomong. "I thought that the US is next to heaven and I wanted to be part of that. I wrote my life story and sent it to the embassy."
Lomong wrote about how he was separated from his family, how he ended up in the refugee camp, how he presumed his parents and siblings were dead. After an interview, Lomong received word that he had been accepted as part of the relocation program and would be going to America. He was sent to Tully, N.Y., near Syracuse, to live with the Rogerses. Everything was an adjustment, from riding in cars to learning how to take a shower.
"I wanted to boil my water to take a shower," said Lomong. "They taught me hot water here, cold water there, in the middle there's a comfortable temperature to take a shower in. I was a kid again."
Lomong started in 10th grade at Tully High School, where he showed a natural talent as a runner and won three New York state championships. He caught the attention of Hayes and Northern Arizona. Making the move from high school champion to college student and NCAA champion would require Lomong to make more adjustments.
In high school, Lomong ran 25 miles per week. Hayes wanted Lomong to run 80 miles, but that proved too much and the lost boy struggled his freshman year. He stayed in Flagstaff, Ariz., after his sophomore year to train at an altitude of 7,000 feet. He gained confidence and saw his performances improve.
Last year, he won the NCAA 3,000-meter indoor championship. Then he won the outdoor 1,500-meter title in a personal-best 3 minutes 37.07 seconds and turned professional.
In the finals of the 800 at the trials last week, Lomong ran a personal-best 1:45.58, meaning he should be in top condition for the 1,500 final. He had the second-fastest qualifying time (3:43.83) behind Gabe Jennings.
"We have 12 good kickers [in the final], 12 good endurance, 12 well-trained guys," said Lomong. "You can never count anybody out until you line up and go after it."
Remembering his routes
Despite a thick accent, Lomong looks thoroughly American with his diamond stud earrings and
"They don't understand how important the running is here," said Lomong. "I took a little DVD of me running and I showed them. They appreciate it more watching than by me telling. They're saying, 'Oh, you're so skinny. Eat some more food. Why are you running every day?' They don't appreciate why I'm doing this. Back in Africa, if you're playing soccer, you're a big-time person. Everybody runs. If you go to work, you're running. If you go to your neighbor, you're running. It's part of life."
Lomong calls his family in Kenya every other day and hopes they can come to the United States soon, though despite small tribal wars they are safe and move easily between Sudan and Kenya.
He would also like to bring his parents to Beijing if he qualifies for the Olympic team.
If he travels to Beijing, Lomong will not forget where he came from. He has thought about protesting against China's involvement in the Darfur region of Sudan, about carrying American and Sudanese flags.
"All I'm worried about is the kids who are dying, especially in Darfur," said Lomong. "The kids who don't have the dream they could be an Olympian or doctors or something.
"It's not just what's going on between the Chinese government and the Sudanese. It's what's going on with the people. We hope those kids can pursue what their dreams are."
Lomong knows just how far a dream can take a young kid from Sudan.
Shira Springer can be reached at springer@globe.com.
