An American dream

Lopez Lomong took a long look around the Air Force Academy, glancing at the famed chapel and the green foothills as he considered his ride from African poverty to American prosperity.

"I'm part of the greatest nation on earth," he said Friday morning in his sing-song voice. "The land of opportunity, you know, and I can pursue it.

"It's great to be in America."

It's tough to argue with him.

Lomong, 23, ranks among the favorites to represent the U.S. in the 1,500 meters at the Beijing Olympics. He departs Colorado Springs on Tuesday after living at the Olympic Training Center since February.

He's preparing for the Olympic track and field trials, which start Saturday in Eugene, Ore., followed by a competitive tour of Europe. He'll run in Paris, Rome and London before, if all goes according to plan, competing in Beijing.

"I see myself crossing that line," he said. "I see myself winning that gold medal.

"I'm just pushing myself for everything that is possible. I'm very, very optimistic."

Excuse his rampant optimism. He's traveled so far, so fast.

Seven years ago, he endured an impoverished existence in a Kenyan refugee camp. He believed he would spend the rest of his life in the camp's crowded squalor.

He didn't complain. He was - and is - thrilled to awaken alive and healthy each morning.

When Lomong was 6, he tumbled into the middle of the Sudan's long, complicated, bloody civil war. The conflict lasted from 1983 to 2005 and killed an estimated 2 million Sudanese.

Lomong was attending Catholic Mass when government troops invaded the ceremony and kidnapped all the boys. The troops were Muslim, Lomong said, and wanted to train the boys to serve in their armies.

He soon shared a cell with 70 other children. He saw comrades beaten. He saw a few die.

One night, three teenage prisoners shook him awake. They had found a small hole in the fence and wanted him to join them in an escape.

The four boys ran barefoot for two days and two nights. The teens provided Lomong with wild fruit and rainwater.

"They were my angels," he said. "They protected me through the wilderness of Africa."

They were tireless as they ran, but they were utterly lost. The boys hoped, with no good reason, to run straight home.

After days of wandering, the boys were rounded up by the Kenyan border patrol, who took Lomong to a refugee camp jammed with people fleeing the Sudan civil war. He never again saw his three teen "angels."

He ate one meal a day amid the crowds for the next nine years. He had no idea if his family remained alive. He had little hope of a better life.

But when Lomong was 16, he was rescued. Aid organizations brought 3,800 Sudanese refugees to the U.S. to live in foster homes. The refugees became known as "The Lost Boys of Sudan."

Rob and Barb Rogers live in Tully in central New York. Their son had departed for college, leaving them alone in their sprawling lakefront home. They wanted Lomong to live with them.

At first, Lomong was confused and overwhelmed by the splendor of the Rogers' home, a typical upper-middle class American abode.

He slept with his bedroom lights on. The Rogers believed he needed the lights after his past terrors. They were wrong. He didn't know how to flip off the switch.

Yet it did not take long before he felt he belonged in this loving home in his new homeland. He now calls the Rogerses "my parents," and each calls him "my son."

Last summer, on July 6, he was sworn in as an American citizen in downtown Syracuse, N.Y. The Rogers family, complete with aunts, uncles and cousins, watched proudly.

"All of us love Lopez so much," Barb said last week. "We know that he's ours, and we can't wait to see him again."

He plans to return to the Rogerses' home in September to celebrate his journey to Beijing. He talks matterof-factly about his Olympic expectations, but has a strong foundation for this self-belief.

He was a talented, yet raw, high school runner, but under the watchful eyes of coach John Hayes at Northern Arizona, Lomong became a world-class runner, winning two NCAA titles.

Hayes, now the cross country coach at Air Force, laughed as he considered Lomong's rapid rise.

"When I first saw him, I knew he was going to be really good," Hayes said. "I'm only surprised he's come this far so fast."

Lomong's joy is fueled by more than running. Last summer, HBO found his mother, father and five siblings and flew Lomong to Africa for a reunion. He hugged and kissed the family he had lost.

He earns good money - he won't say how much - running for Nike but remains frugal. He drives a battered 1995 Saturn, a survivor of minor wrecks and 153,000 miles.

"Ah, I like little, slow cars," he said. "I like this car because it has a real history to it."

He also likes his Saturn because he can direct his money elsewhere. He sends money each month to his family in the Sudan, so they can eat, he said, "three meals a day."

On Friday morning, sitting at the edge of AFA's track, he smiled into the Colorado sunshine, giving thanks for his astounding good fortune.

Then a rare frown crossed his face.

He dislikes, he admitted, the term Lost Boys of Sudan.

"I'm not lost anymore," he said, his usually boisterous voice going soft. "I'm found.

"I was lost, but America found me."

CONTACT THE WRITER: 476-4895 or david.ramsey@gazette.com