The life of David Leong: From an arranged marriage in China to a place called Missouri

This is the first story in a two-part series about the life of David Leong.

What we already know about Wing Yin Leong, known as "David," is obvious: He perfected cashew chicken here in Springfield.

But there is so much more to this amazing life.

It starts with an arranged teenage marriage in China to a woman he had never before seen. His mother had chosen her.

The life of David Leong: From the bombing of his restaurant to success with cashew chicken

It includes his landing on Omaha Beach on D-Day as men died all around him.

It includes immigration to America where, even as a war hero, David experienced racism. No white barber would cut his hair in the South, and whenever he took out the trash at his Springfield restaurant, a nearby neighbor would shout: "Go back to China!"

That restaurant, Leong's Tea House, was bombed during construction.

Like any life fully lived, old age has come with sadness. He has outlived countless friends and loved ones.

His wife of 50 years died in 1997. Her passing put a pause in his life; he left the restaurant business for 13 years.

“I think for a while the heart went out of him," said one of his two daughters.

He "lost" his brother Gee long before Gee's death in 2004.

The brothers stopped speaking to each other after a business dispute in which Gee locked David out of the restaurant and David, using bolt cutters to force his way back in, felt it necessary to pack a gun.

David also "lost" his oldest child, Cheong, long before his firstborn died in 2010. Cheong was one of seven children.

Cheong had lost $800,000 gambling in Las Vegas, his father said.

Cheong demanded $5,000 from his father so — in Cheong's mind — he could return to Las Vegas to recoup his losses.

When David refused, Cheong threatened to kill him, according to David.

Wing Yee Leong, 61, is one of four remaining sons. All have names that start with "Wing," which means "prosperous" in Cantonese, he said.

Wing Yee manages Leong's Asian Diner, 1540 W. Republic Road, where he is executive chef. He and two of his brothers own the business — with their father.

In a quiet part of the restaurant, Wing Yee sits beside David, whose eyes shine brightly.

David has had cataract surgery. He still drives, his son says, but those days are numbered. He has recently had minor accidents in the restaurant's parking lot.

Over six consecutive Thursday afternoons, News-Leader columnist Steve Pokin interviewed David, who visits the restaurant daily.

Wing Yee was present to help interpret his father's words.

Although David speaks English, he is very difficult to understand.

MORE: New downtown plans float giant cashew statue as a symbol of Springfield’s ambitious future

"It's because his dentures no longer fit and he's too stubborn to get them fixed or replaced," Wing Yee said.

During those interviews, Wing Yee also shared stories told over the years by his father.

Yes, Wing Yee said, his dad is stubborn.

But he is also generous, as was his mother.

"Growing up, I would be fighting a neighborhood kid. He would be my mortal enemy for a week and the next thing I knew he would be sitting across the dinner table from me because my mom had invited him."

His father's generosity has a different flavor.

“More than anything, he is open with his friendship," Wing Yee said. "He openly shares his story and his recipes to help other Chinese restaurants do cashew chicken."

“It used to irk us when we were younger. We would ask him: 'Why do you share the recipe?’ And he would say, ‘Well, they got to make a living.’”

When interviewed for this story, the times when David laughed until he cried were when he recalled stories from his three years and eight months in the Army.

Some of those tales had never been heard by his son, who occasionally blushed. Some cannot be repeated in a family newspaper.

"My dad's sense of humor is dark and raunchy," Wing Yee said.

Mei Chein works at the restaurant and has known David 25 years. She was born in Taiwan.

She said that like most Chinese, David is reserved. Also, like most Chinese, she said, he worked like an endurance athlete — long and hard.

When younger, it was nothing for David to toil 70 or more hours a week. But as a boss, she said, he was different than most. He was never bossy.

"He would never tell you, 'Go get me a cup of coffee,'" she said.

These days, David comes in to greet customers, keep an eye on the business and — although it's not necessary — cleans tables, she said.

“He is stubborn to a fault," said his son Wing Ling, 66. "But for his friends he was different. I think he was harder on us kids than on other relatives and friends.

“He can be very demanding. Growing up, he had to work so much to provide for his family. We did not start out being an overnight success. He worked 14 to 15 hours a day.

“My mom basically took care of the kids. My dad would come home at night just in time to see us before we went to bed. But on Sunday nights he would take us out to see a movie."

Daughter Evelyn Mousted, 67, of Atlanta, said David's stubbornness has come late in life.

“When he was younger, he was laid back and very accommodating. I think that is the way of a lot of people when they get older.

"After 70 years old, he figured he could do what he wants.”

Like her brothers, years ago Mousted questioned David's willingness to help so many Chinese — some who had worked for him — in opening competing restaurants in Springfield.

She asked why he was willing to give away the recipe that laid the golden egg.

He told her he had a reason that went back to his childhood in China.

David relayed the adage his mother had shared: “If you are good to people and you help them — you are going to live a long life.”

David will be 98 on Aug. 18.

Life began in Guangzhou, formerly Canton, in China.

David's father was a farmer and his mother came from a higher station in life. She did not work outside the home.

Like many Chinese women of the time, her feet had been bound as a girl to modify their shape.

Since 13th century China, this self-inflicted deformity had been a mark of beauty and a status symbol.

Life was difficult in China, said Wing Ling, who has born in Hong Kong.

Often, he said, there were famines. Men often left China to work in other countries. Wing Ling said his grandfather and his great-grandfather worked in the U.S. His grandfather helped build the Great Transcontinental Railroad.

Life in Guangzhou became dangerous in September 1938. That's when Japan attacked Guangdong Province.

David was 18 when the Japanese Imperial Army captured his home city.

From 1937 to the end of World War II in 1945, an estimated 14 million Chinese died and 100 million more became refugees.

"It was hard for him to feed his family," Wing Ling said.

David would soon leave his homeland.

It was not easy to enter the United States at the time. The U.S. Chinese Exclusion Act, passed in 1882, was the first law that prevented a specific ethnic group from immigrating to the United States.

It was not repealed until Dec. 17, 1943.

David was able to leave China because his father worked in New Orleans, where he washed clothes. His cousin owned a restaurant there.

But David would be leaving behind a young wife, Shau Ngor Wong, who was pregnant with their first child.

MORE: Which do we have more of? Churches or Chinese restaurants?

They had wed in 1937; they were both 18.

"It was an arranged marriage," Wing Yee said.

David's mother had picked his bride, who lived in the neighboring village.

"I had never seen her," David told the News-Leader. "That is how it was. You have no choice."

Also, he said, divorce was not allowed in China at the time.

It was impossible for her to immigrate to the United States with David. So the plan was for David to come to the U.S., find work and then reunite with his wife and child.

“My mom and dad would be separated for 10 years," Wing Yee said. "For some of that time, he was not even sure she was alive."

David had $2 and a sixth-grade education when he left Hong Kong via a ship bound for Seattle.

He arrived in 1940 not knowing a word of English. He took a two-day train ride to New Orleans. He arrived on June 8.

His son, Wing Cheong, was born June 20 in China.

Through the help of his cousin, he worked in a Chinese restaurant for $2 a day in New Orleans. His pay was bumped to $3 by working Sundays.

No, David said, he was not lonely.

"I was too busy working."

Then, the world changed. Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, and the U.S. was at war.

David told the News-Leader that he was a U.S. citizen because his father was in the country. As a citizen, he said, he was drafted. In an earlier interview he told the newspaper that he had enlisted.

Mousted, David's oldest surviving child, said the details of how her father entered the Army have become murky over time. The best she recalls is that her father was already a citizen because David's father was working in the U.S. and he was a U.S. citizen.

Regardless, David had no love for Japan.

The 1997 best-selling book, "The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II" describes the 1937-1938 atrocities committed by the Imperial Japanese Army after it captured Nanjing, then the capital of China, 700 miles from David's hometown.

According to history.com, "Much of the city was burned, and Japanese troops launched a campaign of atrocities against civilians. The Japanese butchered an estimated 150,000 male 'war prisoners,' massacred an additional 50,000 male civilians, and raped at least 20,000 women and girls of all ages, many of whom were mutilated or killed."

Wing Ling said he recalls his older brother — Cheong — describing Japanese planes dropping bombs on their hometown.

"I remember hearing stories about how they had to hide in the mountains, otherwise they would have raped the women and killed the children," Wing Ling said.

David's mother died in China during the war, Wing Ling said.

"They think that she was so frightened by the bombing by the Japanese that she died of fright — or of a heart attack.”

When David entered the U.S. Army in 1942, he weighed 98 pounds. He was 5-foot-2.

He had been living a spartan existence in New Orleans.

In the Army, he ate more and for the first time ate fatty food. After six months, he hit 140 pounds.

Boot camp was at Camp Lee, Virginia. It would later become Fort Lee.

He recalls getting up at 4 a.m. for training.

"It was really hard," he said.

In boot camp, he worked at learning English. He would point at things and ask: "What is this?"

He saw only a handful of other Chinese in the U.S. Army.

At some point after boot camp, it was off to England to train for a secret mission.

While in England, a drill sergeant had difficulty pronouncing Wing Yin.

His solution was: "From now on, you are 'David.'"

David recalled the racism he faced while a G.I. in England.

"I went to London on leave and when I come back someone s##t in my sleeping bag and pee on my pillow. They all laugh," David said. "They give me hard time all the time."

In response, the sergeant met with David and the other seven soldiers living in the same barracks.

"The captain there, too. The sergeant say, 'He is U.S. citizen. He is in Army. He is not enemy. He is not Japanese. He is Chinese. You men are team. You don't know when you have to depend on each other. You don't know who might save your life. And you also might get bullet in back from someone you have been mean to. If you want to ever get back to United States, you make friends,'"" David recalled. "He say no more leaves until he find out who did it. He find out soldier who did it. He had no leaves and had to pay for new bag and new clothes for me. No more problem."

David is fond of the story of how he became a part-time cook in the Army.

One day in England, the regular cook for enlisted men was sick and did not show up.

David, who had kitchen experience, filled in.

"On that day, the colonel came in to eat with the enlisted men," said Wing Yee. "He ate his breakfast and proclaimed: 'I want to meet the man who cooked my breakfast.'"

The colonel was told the "Chinese boy" did. David sheepishly approached the colonel, who proclaimed:

"That is the best damn breakfast I have ever had! You are no longer cooking for the enlisted men. You are now cooking for the officers."

It turned out the secret mission was D-Day.

David was one of the 156,000 American, British and Canadian men who landed on a 50-mile stretch of beach fortified by German forces.

In theory, Wing Yee said, the beach should have been secured by the time David and his fellow combat engineers hit the water.

But war rarely goes according to plan.

Wing Yee said his father was in the fourth wave, and resistance was still thick and deadly.

To avoid enemy fire, David dove over the side of his amphibious landing craft. The water was over his head. He lost his rifle.

"I see a lot of people killed. I did not know if I was going to make it."

About 9,000 Allied soldiers were killed or wounded that day.

David repeatedly dove underwater to avoid enemy fire. He heard the sound of death whizz by overhead.

“So many people get killed. I am in the water. The water saved my life," David said. "We wait on beach until four tanks land. They make opening and clear the way."

Wing Ling said his father rarely talked to his children about the war.

“He will talk to perfect strangers about what happened ... We would hear bits and pieces. He was scared when he landed on Omaha Beach and he said how lucky he was that he could swim because he had to dive over the side of the landing craft to keep from being killed.

"He told us about one guy who was so scared he could not move. They had to leave him behind on the beach. And when they came back he was dead — and he did not have a scratch on him."

After D-Day, David was never again on the front lines.

Several weeks later, he was in a jubilant Paris. David himself was a rare sight: a Chinese G.I. liberator.

A Chinese man living in Paris was so stunned and so proud to see him that he opened up his restaurant to cook David a chicken dinner.

"I tell him I have nothing to give him — other than two packs of cigarettes."

G.I.s were given two packs daily. David did not smoke.

Wherever he traveled in Europe, David said, he was celebrated and revered by fellow Chinese.

"They would give him gifts and beer and all kinds of presents," Wing Yee said.

It was in Belgium that David first tasted Heineken beer, brewed in the Netherlands.

To this day, David said, he drinks one bottle a day.

He attributes his long life, in part, to his daily Heineken.

In Belgium, David had been living with a few other soldiers inside a house with civilians.

He recalled the day that he stepped outside and within minutes a V-2 Buzz Bomb — the world's first guided ballistic missile — struck the house.

"Boom! Everything shake!"

All eight civilians were killed. A fellow soldier who was in the basement taking a shower survived.

You never knew how you might die, David said.

He returned to the United States as a war hero — and to a culture of racism.

He went back to New Orleans, where he opened a restaurant called Blue Wing, according to Wing Ling.

In the Deep South, no white barber would cut his hair.

David often had to use public restrooms marked for "colored" and was forbidden from sitting inside many restaurants.

He eventually left New Orleans to work at high-end restaurants in New York City, Philadelphia and Denver.

"It's when he really learned to cook," Wing Yee said.

It was during this period that he learned his wife was alive, living in Hong Kong.

MORE: Cashew chicken founder David Leong gets WWII Army medals restored

David returned to visit. He took his two war medals to proudly show to family and friends in China.

But China was in transition. Already brewing was the Communist Revolution that would come in 1949.

David was a former U.S. serviceman visiting his homeland — a nation moving swiftly toward communism. He feared he might be arrested and executed.

He fled, leaving behind his World War II Victory Medal and his World War II Honorable Service Lapel Button.

It was not until May 2016 that David received replacements in a ceremony with U.S. Rep Billy Long.

David and his wife had two more children conceived in Hong Kong during his visits.

Evelyn was born in 1950. Nurses thought it would be easier for the family to emigrate to the United States — to be with David — if the baby had an English name.

Their third child, Wing Ling, was born in 1951.

By this time, Cheong, who was born in 1940 in China, was almost a teenager. He had spent much of his young life without his father.

Back in the U.S., David saw an ad for an Asian cook for a restaurant in Pensacola, Florida. He applied for the job and was hired.

David was in Pensacola when he met Dr. John Tsang, the first neurosurgeon in Springfield.

Tsang, born in Shanghai, China, had come to the U.S. in 1947 and to Springfield in 1954.

The doctor was vacationing when he first sampled David's cooking at Pirate's Cove restaurant in Pensacola. It was love at first bite.

“Dr. Tsang comes in and eats Dad’s food and he asks how much are they paying you here?" according to Wing Yee. "He tells Dad, 'I will double what they pay you if you come to Springfield, Missouri.'"

Tsang was so sure of David's cooking skills that he promised to hire him as the chef for a restaurant he was building in Missouri.

David said yes.

According to Wing Yee, "Dad didn't even know where Missouri was."

Two-part series

Today: From China to the United States: cooking and fighting

Monday: Leong arrives in Springfield, where he makes culinary history