How a startling discovery from a DNA test led an Australian adoptee to his birth family
EXCLUSIVE: Abandoned at six months old in an overflowing orphanage in war-torn Vietnam, Kim Catford was baby number 671.
But, to his South Australian parents who adopted him as a baby in 1974, he simply became part of the family.
Growing up in the small coastal town of Victor Harbor, and later in the Adelaide suburb of Banksia Park, Kim had what appeared to be, in many ways, a quintessentially Australian childhood.
He rode bikes, played footy and had three older sisters.
"I was very fortunate to have a loving, nurturing, caring family," Kim told 9news.com.au.
However, Kim always knew he was different - not in the least because he didn't look like his family, or almost anyone else.
"I think I was a bit of a novelty around those times because it was very Anglo-Australian back in the '70s," Kim said.
"There weren't many mixed-race children, especially from Vietnam."
That difference brought out the darker side of Australian society, and Kim said he often experienced racism as a child and teenager.
"I certainly remember a lot of bullying, getting into a lot of fights," he said.
"I guess I didn't really know where I fit in. Identity was a big thing for me growing up, mainly due to racism, and all I wanted to do was be Australian."
Kim's parents, Geoff and Janet Catford, were religious and had decided to adopt him after receiving a "calling from God" to help alleviate the suffering caused by the Vietnam War.
They joined a local group of prospective adoptive families, which led to one of their members flying back 10 babies, including Kim, from their Vietnamese orphanage.
It was more than a year before Operation Babylift would take off, which saw the mass evacuation of Vietnamese children to Western countries at the end of the war.
Kim grew up thinking his birth parents were most likely both dead, because that was what his Australian mother and father had told him.
"My parents always provided me with a narrative early on that I was half American, half Vietnamese," Kim said.
"They said my father was an American soldier who had probably died and my mother was a Vietnamese lady.
"They didn't know any of this information … but I think it was their way of trying to provide me with a story that would make it easier for me to move on."
But Kim had always been curious about his origins, and that interest only intensified when he reached his 20s.
"I think it's always been there, a wanting to know, and that urge just got stronger and stronger," he said.
"It was like an itch that had to be scratched."
Kim began asking more questions of his parents.
"I said, 'How do you know my birth mum and dad are dead?'," Kim said.
"They said, 'Well, we don't know, but we're just assuming.'"
When Kim was in his 30s, he began the search to find out the truth about his birth story in earnest, applying for his adoption file from the SA government.
Then, in 2002, Kim returned to Vietnam for the first time, with his wife, on what proved to be a journey of self-discovery.
"It was amazing, and I just fell in love with the genuine people and the culture," he said.
While there, Kim - with the help of a guide and interpreter - made his way back to the Sancta Maria Orphanage where he was abandoned as an infant.
To Kim's amazement, he was shown his old and yellowing records.
On a piece of paper, Kim's Vietnamese name, Ha Van Tuan, was written alongside his birth mother's - Ha Thi Ky.
The names matched the birth certificate in his Australian file.
The orphanage's records also showed Kim was baby number 671, and he was recorded as six or seven months old.
"Most of the records were destroyed by the North Vietnamese when they came in, so I was very lucky to see that," Kim said.
Back in Australia, Kim engaged the help of a Vietnamese adoption expert, who put a notice in the local newspaper of the village where he was born, calling for any information about his birth mother.
But none was forthcoming, and he hit a dead end.
It wasn't until last year, 50 years on from his adoption, that a breakthrough was finally made - and it came in the form of a DNA test kit.
Kim said he had planned to do a DNA test for a long time, spurred on by his daughter's curiosity about her ethnicity.
"My daughter was growing up and querying her identity and where she's from - and her biology and ethnicity as well," he said.
"I've always thought the only way I'm really gonna settle this is by doing a DNA test.
"It was always in the back of my mind, I need to do this."
It was around that time Kim got an email about a project being run by DNA testing company and online genealogy platform MyHeritage, which was providing free DNA test kits for adoptees.
It seemed like fate.
Although he had no expectations of finding any DNA matches, Kim said he was hoping to get a sense of his ethnicity.
When the results came in, there was a huge surprise in store.
"The first thing it said was I am 45 per cent Scandinavian. And I'm like, 'What is this? This is crazy!' It totally threw me," Kim said.
Kim was stunned that the test did not show any American ancestry, as he had always believed his father was from the US.
The other ethnicity details were as expected, showing his Vietnamese and Chinese heritage.
However, there was one more major shock to come, with the results revealing there were two DNA matches for Kim on the MyHeritage database.
The matches, a first and second cousin.
Stunned, Kim took a while to digest the news, before reaching out to his matches with an email.
"I got a reply back from my second cousin, Kaj, in Denmark," Kim said.
"He was really dumbstruck too and said, 'I don't understand how we could be related.'"
However, after Kim told Kaj he was born in Vietnam, and his date of birth, he received another reply.
"He came back and said, 'I think I know who your father is. He is related to my mother. He was in Vietnam during the '70s, he was with the US military. And sorry to tell you this, but he passed away.'"
"It was really bittersweet - in one message I was told who my birth father is. Then, one sentence later, that he had passed away."
Kim found out his birth father, Niels Korsgaard, moved to the US from Denmark as a young man, where he joined the US Air Force.
He was later posted to Vietnam.
Korsgaard died nearly two decades earlier, in 2005, when he was 72.
Kim said he believed his birth father was redeployed out of Vietnam in 1973 and it appeared he did not know of his existence.
Although he never had a chance to meet his birth father, Kim said he was delighted to find himself welcomed with open arms to his large, extended Danish family, where he is one of 37 cousins.
"I'm very fortunate because, not knowing my father's circumstances and not knowing me, they could have tried to sweep me under the carpet as a sort of dirty secret," Kim said.
"That was a fear I had, of getting that double rejection.
"But I could not have asked for more from my Denmark family. They have been overwhelmingly kind and really understanding of my story and also very accepting of me as a family member."
Kim has since found out that he also has an older half-sister in France, from an earlier marriage of his birth father's.
In June, Kim and his wife will travel to Denmark for a family reunion organised in his honour.
There, he will meet his many cousins and also his half-sister.
Kim said he was also holding out some hope that he would also one day find his birth mother.
"I thought I would have more chance of winning the lotto than finding my birth father.
"So you look at that and think, 'Well, anything is possible.'"