But then after about a year, other items started to show up. Flowers, oranges and small coins would appear and disappear. It perplexed Stevenson because he never saw anyone bringing or removing the stuff.
He didn’t know it, but Vietnamese immigrants — including a woman named Vina Vo — had adopted the Buddha.
Vo is a tiny woman, less than five feet tall. She grew up in a village called Quang Ngai. Her 28-year old son Cuk Vo translated as she told me her story. As a young girl, she learned traditional Buddhist mantras from her grandmother. Every morning she would pray and walk to the temple with her grandmother.
Vo’s family lived through the Vietnam War, and then in 1975, South Vietnam surrendered to the Communist north. Vina Vo was 17 years old. The Communists burnt down many homes in the village, including that of her family. Relatives were beaten and killed. The temple was destroyed.
Her grandmother suggested that she should leave the country to find freedom. Part of that freedom included the freedom to practice her religion.
In 1982, Vina, her husband and brother got on a small boat that held 34 people. During a storm, they nearly capsized, but were rescued by Chinese people, who took bribes for their safety.
Eventually, they ended up in a Hong Kong refugee camp. It was a warehouse with bunkbeds and no privacy. There, a monk came to visit once a week. It had been 10 years since Vina recited the mantras her grandmother taught her. But in the camp, she gathered with about 40 people to pray.
“It was very important for me to pray because of the struggle ahead,” Vo told me. “It was for health and peace, but ultimately they were praying for freedom.”
After seven years in the camp, the family received sponsorship from a family in Kentucky. They hopscotched around before arriving in Oakland.
In 2010, someone at the Vietnamese church told Vina about the 11th Avenue Buddha.
“Maybe you could come take care of it,” he suggested to Vo. “Take care of that space and clean up the thing and maybe provide a canopy for the Buddha.”
She started doing just that and friends and family helped.
When he put out the Buddha, Dan Stevenson hadn’t viewed him as a religious artifact. But Buddhism is a religion. And the Buddha was sitting on city property. A neighbor complained.
Oakland’s attitude towards religious expression is mostly to just let it be. But after that, the city wanted the Buddha gone. That didn’t sit well with Dan Stevenson, the original owner of the Buddha.
“I started a campaign to stop that,” Stevenson said. “And that got way carried away.”
He told the neighbors. People got riled up. They called and sent emails to City Councilwoman Pat Kernighan.
“The entire neighborhood rallied to the defense of the Buddha,” Kernighan said. “They said no, no we love it there.”
“The vast majority of people who were contacting me were not Buddhist. They just liked the Buddha. lt also pulled the neighborhood together.”
So the city backed down.
How the Buddha helped clean up a neighborhood — The Spiritual Edge
But then after about a year, other items started to show up. Flowers, oranges and small coins would appear and disappear. It perplexed Stevenson because he never saw anyone bringing or removing the stuff.
He didn’t know it, but Vietnamese immigrants — including a woman named Vina Vo — had adopted the Buddha.
Vo is a tiny woman, less than five feet tall. She grew up in a village called Quang Ngai. Her 28-year old son Cuk Vo translated as she told me her story. As a young girl, she learned traditional Buddhist mantras from her grandmother. Every morning she would pray and walk to the temple with her grandmother.
Vo’s family lived through the Vietnam War, and then in 1975, South Vietnam surrendered to the Communist north. Vina Vo was 17 years old. The Communists burnt down many homes in the village, including that of her family. Relatives were beaten and killed. The temple was destroyed.
Her grandmother suggested that she should leave the country to find freedom. Part of that freedom included the freedom to practice her religion.
In 1982, Vina, her husband and brother got on a small boat that held 34 people. During a storm, they nearly capsized, but were rescued by Chinese people, who took bribes for their safety.
Eventually, they ended up in a Hong Kong refugee camp. It was a warehouse with bunkbeds and no privacy. There, a monk came to visit once a week. It had been 10 years since Vina recited the mantras her grandmother taught her. But in the camp, she gathered with about 40 people to pray.
“It was very important for me to pray because of the struggle ahead,” Vo told me. “It was for health and peace, but ultimately they were praying for freedom.”
After seven years in the camp, the family received sponsorship from a family in Kentucky. They hopscotched around before arriving in Oakland.
In 2010, someone at the Vietnamese church told Vina about the 11th Avenue Buddha.
“Maybe you could come take care of it,” he suggested to Vo. “Take care of that space and clean up the thing and maybe provide a canopy for the Buddha.”
She started doing just that and friends and family helped.
When he put out the Buddha, Dan Stevenson hadn’t viewed him as a religious artifact. But Buddhism is a religion. And the Buddha was sitting on city property. A neighbor complained.
Oakland’s attitude towards religious expression is mostly to just let it be. But after that, the city wanted the Buddha gone. That didn’t sit well with Dan Stevenson, the original owner of the Buddha.
“I started a campaign to stop that,” Stevenson said. “And that got way carried away.”
He told the neighbors. People got riled up. They called and sent emails to City Councilwoman Pat Kernighan.
“The entire neighborhood rallied to the defense of the Buddha,” Kernighan said. “They said no, no we love it there.”
“The vast majority of people who were contacting me were not Buddhist. They just liked the Buddha. lt also pulled the neighborhood together.”
So the city backed down.