His poisoned body swollen and death a real possibility, Son Xuan Nguyen uttered the prayer that was often on his lips as a prisoner in a North Vietnamese re-education camp.

"God," Nguyen said. "If I survive, I will repay your kindness."

Nguyen did survive that poisoning from scavenged roots as well as two other brushes with death in eight years in the camp, punishment for having been a major in the South Vietnamese army, an ally of the Americans when Saigon fell in 1975.

Three decades later, Nguyen is still repaying his debt.

The 75-year-old Nguyen, who now lives in Salt Lake City, is essentially a father to Utah's Vietnamese community.

From helping fellow refugees learn enough English and civics to become U.S. citizens to hosting services for the Cao Dai religion in his living room to leading bus trips to see autumn colors in the Uintas, Nguyen lives to serve.

His gift, says Layton resident Valeen Sullivan, who co-taught a citizenship class for eight years with Nguyen, is that he is a born organizer, a natural leader.

"He knows how to navigate the system, and he helps the others do so," Sullivan says. "When somebody is in the hospital or somebody dies, everybody turns to him. 'What do we do? How do we do it ?' "

A slight man with high cheekbones, a smile playing in his eyes, Nguyen says his life is guided by faith.

"Living thankfully is part of what he's doing, but it's more like he's representing God," says Phil Nguyen, who was 13 in 1991 when his father brought him and his older brother and sister from Vietnam, a whopping $50 in his pocket.

Son's wife, Nhung Vu, remained working in Vietnam for a more than a year before rejoining her family in Utah's capital.

The couple live on Main Street, just south of Franklin Covey Field, in a home they chose for its central location. It is designated as a Cao Dai Holy House, at least until the 30 or 40 worshipers are able to raise enough money to build on land they recently bought in West Valley City.

"He's all about helping his people make the transition from the lifestyle they knew and loved in Vietnam," Sullivan says. "He's very appreciative of what America offers."

Nguyen was reared in the Vietnamese village of Tuy Hao. He and his family were devout members of Cao Daism, a regional faith founded in 1926 that Nguyen says has strong influences from Buddhism, French philosophy and Christianity.

Conflict was frequent between villagers and the communists, and eventually would claim his father's life in a 1965 riot.

Nguyen attended a military academy and studied political science, joining the army in 1954 and working in intelligence. When Saigon fell, he was captured and sent to the camp, where hard work and scant food were the rule.

Once, he survived a fall to almost certain death on rocks in a deep ditch by clinging to branches. Another time, Nguyen suffered a concussion while other prisoners died when the roof of a bamboo structure they were repairing collapsed.

"He never doubted that God would deliver him," says Jennifer Ha, his daughter-in-law.

After his liberation, thanks to U.S. intercession, Nguyen rejoined his family. Vu, a nurse, had been able to support her family. Together again, the couple owned a store for a while and then a coal business. But determined that his children not suffer under the communists, Nguyen took advantage of a program allowing those from the camps to take refuge in the United States.

From the start, Nguyen volunteered in Catholic Community Services' refugee-resettlement program, greeting other newcomers and helping them make their way. He earned his high school equivalency diploma at Horizonte Instruction and Training Center and became a U.S. citizen in 1996. All his kids went to college.

In 2000, Nguyen approached Valeen and Boyd Sullivan, who had just returned from an LDS mission in Vietnam. "He said, 'Would you help me teach my people?' " recalls Valeen Sullivan.

For eight years, immigrants, most of them elderly Vietnamese, huddled weekly at a senior center in West Valley City to learn English and civics from the Sullivans and Nguyen.

Nguyen notes that the program helped 330 people become U.S. citizens by the time the program ended in July, after demand waned.

Nguyen remains involved with the Vietnamese Elderly Mutual Association of Utah, a social organization helping older refugees, often lonely after their children join the American mainstream.

These days, Nguyen visits those who are alone or in the hospital. Says son Phil: "He goes to peoples' homes basically every day."

kmoulton@sltrib.com