“That was the only way in or out of the city. There were no airplanes. The airport was shut down,” says Ned. “Throughout the war it was used. Presidents have gone through that tunnel.” In his case, the tunnel led to safety and freedom, first in Croatia, then Germany, and finally in Seattle, Washington, where he is today.
Nothing after would be as harrowing as seeing his sister being shot at by a sniper, but life was not easy for an adolescent, finding himself a stranger in a strange land, twice. “It was rough. I was in 7th Grade. People look at you differently,” he says. “At that time immigrants were still pretty fresh to this area, especially from Eastern Europe. We got picked on a lot. Because kids can be pretty cruel.”
“I did not adjust as quickly as I thought I would. I thought kids were kids, but it turned out not to be that way for the first couple of years.” Then he adds, “I use thinking about those days to get ahead now.”
Ned learned English from the TV, turning on the Closed Captioning and watching how the actors and announcers formed the words.
Soccer, a game he had played his whole life, was the key to finding his place in America. “The rest of high school was pretty smooth, I must say, because I was involved in sports,” Ned says. Then straight out of high school, he got a job in a bank, and he has never looked back.
Seattle, with its diverse population intermingling, and its obsession with coffee, reminds him of home. “It does have some sort of European culture, it seems like,” he says. “In a lot of ways, I’m living a dream. I have a little daughter and a fiancé, and I love what I do.”
“We went through some pretty rough stuff,” he says philosophically. “I always like to use that as inspiration in the banking job that I have. The way I look at it is, ‘Okay, I’ve got to make this phone call. It can’t be any worse than being shot at by a sniper.’ If you look at it from that perspective, I think you’re going to be okay.”
At the same time, he has not forgotten where he came from and what he came through.
“We are now proud American citizens, but I always consider myself a Bosnian-American, because that’s where I’m from,” he says. “I can relate now to a lot of the things going on in the world, especially with the Syrian refugees, because I know what it is to be an immigrant.”
It sounds familiar, like something from the Bible.
Back at my desk, I Google phrases until I find it in the Book of Exodus: “Also you shall not oppress a stranger: for you know the heart of a stranger, seeing you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”