Japanese American World War II Evacuation Oral History Project

Part I: Internees

Edited by
Arthur A. Hansen
California State University, Fullerton

Meckler
Westport - London

vii

Preface

Consistent with the student-based philosophy and practice of the Oral History Program (OHP) at California State University, Fullerton (CSUF), its extensive Japanese American Project was launched in 1972 at the urging of a then CSUF undergraduate history major, Betty E. Mitson. Mitson was enrolled concurrently in an introductory oral history class taught by Professor Gary L. Shumway, the founding director of the CSUF program and a pioneer in the national oral history movement, and in a historical methodology class under my tutelage. Coincidentally, she had chosen, with Shumway's guidance, to sharpen her technical processing skills in oral history by transcribing, editing, and indexing a series of tape-recorded interviews in the OHP collection pertinent to the World War II Japanese American Evacuation, the very topic I had selected for investigation by the students in my Historical Methods class.

At this point, I knew virtually nothing about either the method of oral history or the subject of the Evacuation. My motivation for assigning each student in my class to write a research paper on some aspect of the wartime removal and incarceration of West Coast Japanese Americans was that the thirty-year anniversary of this event afforded a convenient way of imparting historical perspective to the contemporary concern with civil liberties, human rights, and ethnic consciousness. Mitson, a senior reentry student, soon convinced me that, because only the previous semester she had completed a research paper centered upon the Evacuation in another of her classes, she could spend her time for my class more profitably by doubling her processing efforts relative to the Evacuation tapes and by collecting and collating research materials for exploitation by her classmates.

One immediate result of this arrangement was that, in reviewing Mitson's processing work, I was drawn--or rather, I was plunged--into every facet of the oral history process via the topic of the Japanese American Evacuation. Before long I found myself becoming less Mitson's teacher than her student, as she instructed me both in the art of oral history interviewing and transcript editing. Moreover, the dynamic, dialogical character of the oral history data that I was working with had the effect of deepening my understanding of and stimulating my curiosity about the entire subject of the Evacuation. Mitson then encouraged me to suggest to Professor Shumway that the OHP formally constitute a project pivoting upon the history and culture of Japanese Americans, with particular attention being paid to the events surrounding World War II. Upon receiving Shumway's enthusiastic endorsement for this idea, the Japanese American Project, with Mitson as associate director and myself as director, became a reality.

During its seventeen-year history, the project has evolved through three discernible stages of development. The first stage extended through 1975, at which time Mitson accepted an appointment as the oral historian for the Forest History Society in Santa Cruz, California, and I succeeded Shumway as the CSUF-OHP's second director. The high tide of this stage was reached late in 1974 with the publication of Voices Long Silent: Oral History and the Japanese American Evacuation (coedited by Mitson and myself), an anthology of project interviews, interpretive essays grounded in these interviews, and taped lectures delivered by selected interviewees in a University of California, Irvine, Extended Education series which I coordinated. The annotated bibliography of project holdings that we prepared for that volume is instructive. It shows that the project had inherited thirteen interviews conducted for the OHP between 1966 and 1972, all with individuals residing in Orange County, California, who, for the most part, were of Japanese ancestry and had been


viii
interned during the war in the Poston War Relocation Center in southwestern Arizona. More importantly, it indicates that within the next two years project members generated seventy-three new interviews, and that these taped recollections encompassed the Evacuation experiences of Japanese Americans and non-Japanese Americans from all over California, though particularly from the Los Angeles area--the prewar residential, commercial, and cultural center of the mainland Japanese American community. In addition to addressing the situations prevalent for evacuees at the nine other War Relocation Authority (WRA) centers apart from Poston, especially the Manzanar center in eastern California that housed primarily evacuees from Los Angeles County, these interviews embraced the reminiscences of: (1) Japanese Americans who had been detained temporarily in many of the fifteen assembly centers managed by the Wartime Civil Control Administration (WCCA); (2) resident Japanese aliens deemed "potentially dangerous" who were interned in one or more of the several centers administered by the United States Department of Justice; (3) children and grandchildren of the evacuees capitalizing upon the symbolic meaning of the Evacuation as activists in contemporary movements of ethnic consciousness-cum-cultural politics; (4) Caucasians who had been employed by the WRA as camp administrators; and (5) non-Japanese residents of the small communities in the regions close to the sites of the former California camps of Manzanar and Tule Lake. The latter was located near the Oregon border and was converted during the war from a regular relocation center to a segregation center for Japanese Americans deemed "disloyal."

What is less clear from perusing the annotated bibliography in Voices Long Silent is how this profusion of new interviews came into existence. Although Mitson and I were directly responsible for the production of a substantial number of them, the bulk of the interviews derived from students enrolled in successive seminars on the Evacuation taught by the two of us (after Mitson's matriculation into the CSUF Department of History graduate studies program and her appointment as my teaching assistant). During this interval, individual and group forays into the field by project members netted an array of oral memoirs falling into the categories noted above. The two most prominent student interviewers during this phase of the project, David Bertagnoli and Sherry Turner, undertook prolonged fieldwork with the aforementioned townspeople living adjacent, respectively, to the Manzanar and Tule Lake campsites. Then, too, other undergraduate student interviewers, notably David Hacker and Ronald Larson, substantially enlarged and enhanced the project's holdings by conducting key interviews with controversial personalities involved in intracamp politics at the Manzanar center. Finally, two other undergraduate interviewers, Janis Gennawey and Pat Tashima, played important roles during this period through the multiple interviews each added to the project's mushrooming archival collection.

The next stage of the project's development extended through 1980. This stage saw the addition of some thirty-five interviews, falling largely within one of four topical foci: (1) internees and administrators of alien internment centers; (2) celebrated dissidents at WRA centers; (3) Japanese American community leaders in Orange County, California; and (4) residents of the southwestern Arizona communities proximate to the former Poston War Relocation Center. The interviews comprising the last two categories were collected, respectively, under the aegis of seminars which I taught in conjunction with Ronald Larson and Jessie Suzuki Garrett in 1976, and with David Hacker in 1978. Along with Susan McNamara, Eleanor Amigo, Paul Clark, and Betty Mitson, each of these individuals, at one or another time during this phase of the project, saw service as the project's director.

More central and, perhaps, more consequential than interviewing in this period, however, was the technical processing and interpretation of the amassed oral data. Owing to a contractual arrangement between the OHP and Microfilming Corporation of America (MCA), a New York Times subsidiary, project personnel were obliged to transcribe, edit, and index our holdings so that they could be disseminated internationally by MCA in a microfilm edition. In addition to the project directors indicated above, three other project members, Paula Hacker, Elizabeth Stein, and Mary Reando, were instrumental in converting raw tapings into polished archival documents.

With respect to the interpretive work accomplished in this stage, project members produced not only two more published anthologies of its interviews, but also two unpublished CSUF Department of History master's theses and one lengthy scholarly monograph based upon project material. The first of the anthologies, Japanese Americans


ix
in Orange County: Oral Perspectives,
was edited with an introduction by Eleanor Amigo in 1976. More ambitious in scope, as well as more controversial in nature, was the 1977 anthology, coedited and introduced by Jessie Garrett and Ronald Larson and showcasing the interviews transacted by David Bertagnoli and myself, entitled Camp and Community: Manzanar and the Owens Valley. The two theses, authored by Paul Clark and David Hacker, were completed in 1980 under my supervision. Clark's study, "Those Other Camps: An Oral History Analysis of Japanese Alien Enemy Internment during World War II," revolved around interviews he recorded (some with the translation assistance of Mariko Yamashita, a Japanese exchange student at CSUF affiliated with the project) with former internees and administrators of Department of Justice camps for enemy aliens. The thesis by Hacker, "A Culture Resisted, A Culture Revived: The Loyalty Crisis of 1943 at the Manzanar War Relocation Center," was informed by the many interviews in the project impinging upon developments at Manzanar, particularly an intensive three-day interview conducted jointly by Hacker and myself in the spring of 1978 in Norman, Oklahoma, with Dr. Morris Opler. A professor emeritus of anthropology at both Cornell University and the University of Oklahoma, Opler, during World War II, had headed Manzanar's Community Analysis Section. As for the unpublished monograph, "Doho: The Japanese American `Communist' Press, 1937-1942," it was authored by Ronald Larson and anchored by interviews done by himself and other project members.

The project's third stage, persisting into the present and encompassing some thirty-five new interviews, has been characterized by cooperative ventures undertaken with outside agencies and individuals. The first of these had its origins in a 1976 project interview with the central figure in the so-called Manzanar Riot of December 1942, Harry Y. Ueno. This endeavor was capped by a widely circulated and critically acclaimed 1986 project publication, Manzanar Martyr: An Interview with Harry Y. Ueno, coedited and introduced by Embrey, the wartime editor of the camp newspaper at Manzanar and the founding chair of the Manzanar Committee (a Los Angeles-based activist group known principally for leading an annual pilgrimage to the Manzanar campsite in the Owens Valley), Betty Mitson, and myself.

The second shared venture, done in conjunction with the Japanese American Council (JAC) of the Historical and Cultural Foundation of Orange County, consisted of fifteen interviews with pioneer family residents of the Japanese American community of Orange County, California. Of these interviews, which were done by enrollees in a CSUF Department of History community oral history class composed about equally of CSUF students and JAC members, seven were with predominantly Japanese-speaking Issei (immigrant-generation Japanese Americans), whose transaction and processing necessitated the services of competent bilingualists. Fortunately, these were provided on a volunteer basis by college-educated wives in Orange County's large overseas Japanese business community who were affiliated with the JAC. Published as fully bilingual volumes including introductions, photo captions, and indexes, these interviews, along with eight other ones done exclusively in English with Nisei (citizen-generation Japanese Americans) comprised the first phase of the ongoing Honorable Stephen K. Tamura Orange County Japanese American Oral History Project, named after the founding cochair of the JAC in recognition of his rise from his roots in the local Japanese American community to appointment in 1966 as the first Japanese American appellate judge in the continental United States.

A third set of cooperative undertakings during the project's last phase has been the publication of two novels penned by project interviewees dramatizing the Japanese American World War II experience from contrasting perspectives. The first of these novels, The Harvest of Hate, was written by Georgia Day Robertson, an Orange Countian who supervised the high school mathematics teachers at the three camps in the Poston War Relocation Center during the war. Although submitted originally by Robertson for publication consideration in 1946, its ultimate publication did not occur until forty years thereafter in 1986. Issued jointly with the JAC as a hardcover volume (in June 1989, it was released by Lynx Books of New York as a mass-market paperback), this novel depicts the crisis of the Evacuation through the eyes of the several members of the fictional Sato family, who farmed in the San Diego area prior to being interned at Poston. The second novel, Seki-nin (Duty Bound), saw print in 1989 under the dual copyright aegis of the


x
project and its Nisei novelist, George Nakagawa. Also published in hardcover form, this novel focuses upon the plight of a Seattle-area Nisei who, out of deference to parental fears for his future, forsakes his native country in 1940 to accompany his parents back to Japan, only to be drafted three years later into the Japanese army and sent to fight, and be killed, in China. Both of these novels, appended with portions of project interviews with their authors, have been widely reviewed in the mainstream and vernacular press.

In addition to these cooperative publication activities, the project has continued to extend and diversify its archival holdings. Consistent with its established pattern of collection, the project added more interviews with Japanese American wartime evacuees, especially those who took part in resistance movements; WRA appointed personnel; and social scientists who studied the Evacuation. But while these older categories were augmented, they were also broadened and variegated. For example, a 1982 interview with a Nisei teacher turned social activist, Hannah Tomiko Holmes, took up her wartime evacuation from the School for the Deaf in Berkeley, California, her incarceration at the Manzanar and Tule Lake centers, and her resettlement in Chicago as a student at the Illinois School for the Deaf. Then, too, a 1987 interview with a WRA administrator, Paul S. Robertson, highlights his seven-month directorship of the isolation center for alleged Nisei "troublemakers" established by the WRA in the spring of 1943 at Leupp, Arizona, on the Navajo reservation. Instead of recording further interviews with those "applied" social scientists employed by the WRA through its Community Analysis Section, the project branched out to interview three social-scientific observers connected with the theoretically-attuned University of California sponsored Evacuation and Resettlement Study (ERS): Robert F. Spencer, an emeritus professor of anthropology at the University of Minnesota, who served as a field anthropologist at the Gila Relocation Center in Arizona; Charles Kikuchi, a retired Veterans Administration social worker who was an ERS participant-observer at Tanforan (California) Assembly Center and Gila Relocation Center and also collected life histories in Chicago among resettled evacuees; and James M. Sakoda, an emeritus professor of social psychology and statistics at Brown University, who carried on participant-observation for JERS at Tulare Assembly Center and the relocation centers at Tule Lake and Minidoka, Idaho.

Finally, this phase in the project's development has witnessed the production, in 1989, of two more CSUF History Department M.A. theses by project members. The first, "Medicine in a Crisis Situation: The Effect of Culture on Health Care in the World War II Japanese American Detention Center," by Michelle Gutierrez, makes resourceful use of existing project interviews with an Issei, Dr. Yoriyuki Kikuchi, Chief of the Dental Clinic at Manzanar, and Frank Chuman, the Nisei director of the Manzanar hospital. The second, "Interned Without: The Military Police at the Tule Lake Relocation/Segregation Center, 1942-46," by Reagan Bell, is heavily reliant upon interviews he transacted for the project with soldiers who were stationed at the Tule Lake Center as well as with a man who served there as one of its assistant directors. Both Gutierrez and Bell illustrate a practice increasingly being followed in the project: that of employing mature students rich in beneficial life experiences as interviewers, editors, and interpreters. In the case of the former, she graduated from a university with a degree in microbiology and worked for a decade as a laboratory technician at the University of Southern California/Los Angeles County Hospital prior to matriculating in the graduate history program at CSUF; as for the latter, a World War II veteran who witnessed his southern California classmates at Tustin Union High School being evacuated to Poston and other centers in 1942, he finished a twenty-year U.S. Army career, including considerable guard duty, prior to completing his B.A. in history and commencing graduate history studies at CSUF.

During the course of its seventeen-year tenure, the Japanese American Project has been fortunate to have the dedicated service and support of countless individuals. Apart from those already named, a number of other people associated in one or another significant way with the project deserve specific recognition for their contributions. Dr. Kinji K. Yada, a colleague in the CSUF Department of History and a wartime internee at the Manzanar center, has assisted the project as a resource person from its inception through the present; not only has he provided timely translations and trenchant advice, but also taught classes taken by project personnel in Japanese and Japanese American history and shaped and sharpened the M.A. theses of a selected few of them. Elizabeth Stein, now a


xi
faculty member in the CSUF Department of English, gave unstintingly of her time and editorial talents as an undergraduate while discharging her duties as the project's associate director during its second stage of development. Others who were important to the project for their promotional work in this same period were Duff Griffith and Reed Holderman. Since 1980, the project has benefited greatly, particularly in connection with its work on the Honorable Stephen K. Tamura Orange County Japanese American Project, by the efforts of volunteers drawn from Orange County's Japanese American population and the county's overseas Japanese business community. Noteworthy in the former category were the following individuals: Myrtle Asahino, Yasko Gamo, Susan Hori, Charles Ishii, Gale Itagaki, Hiroshi Kamei, James Kanno, Carol Kawanami, Grace Muruyama, Dr. Ernest Nagamatsu, Clarence Nishizu, Shi and Mary Nomura, Iku Watanabe, Dorothy Wing, and Rae Yasumura. The latter category was headed up by Masako Hanada and Yukiko Sato, who coordinated the team of translators, transcribers, and editors associated with the production of the bilingual volumes in the Tamura collection. Members of this team included: Keiko Akashi, Kokonoe Baba, Kazuko Horie, Hisako Maruoka, Etsu Matsuo, Setsuko Naiki, Kyoko Okamoto, Yoko Tateuchi, Yumiko Wakabayashi, and Chiharu Yawata. CSUF students instrumental during this third phase of the project have been Phillip Brigandi, Jeanie Corral, Richard Imon, and Ann Uyeda. Although the CSUF Oral History Program staff, spearheaded by its able and indefatigable associate director/archivist Shirley E. Stephenson, has facilitated the work of the project in a panoply of ways from its beginning, in recent years the role of staff members, Kathleen Frazee, Shirley de Graaf, Debra Gold Hansen, Gaye Kouyoumjian, and Garnette Long, especially in the area of technical processing, has been both spirited and substantial. During the 1980s, the project has enjoyed the support of two new OHP directors, Professors Lawrence de Graaf and Michael Onorato, both faculty members in the CSUF Department of History, the OHP's administrative parent. Finally, the four History Department chairs during the life of the project--Professors George Giacumakis, Thomas Flickema, Robert Feldman, and James Woodward--have demonstrated leadership beneficial to its growth and development.

Throughout its existence, the project has been largely self-supporting as a result of the sale of its assorted publications. In its formative years, a small amount of subsidization was provided by the CSUF School of Social Sciences and Humanities and a series of research grants awarded to student project members through the university's Departmental Association Council. The largest infusion of funds into the project came about, however, during its second developmental stage via Comprehensive Employment Training Act (CETA) salary payments for trainees attached to the project. In recent years, financial assistance has flowed from several sources: (1) the Japanese American Council of the Historical and Cultural Foundation of Orange County; (2) the MAC NEEL PIERCE FOUNDATION, with student scholarships; (3) CSUF faculty research and travel grants; and (4) donations from project interviewees and their families.

Almost from its outset, project holdings and personnel have been consulted by a variety of researchers, from affiliates of local historical societies and agencies, both within and outside of the Japanese American community, through writers of doctoral dissertations and scholarly studies. The media have also turned to the project for assistance on a regular basis, extending from area newspapers through network television stations in Japan and the United Kingdom, and from low-budget documentary film makers through producers of mass-circulation feature films. Although the contemporary movement for redress/reparations to Japanese American survivors of the Evacuation has dramatized the value of project documents, it is likely that they will continue to be deemed valuable by researchers for many years to come, even after the project as an institutional entity has come to its inevitable end.

ARTHUR A. HANSEN

California State University, Fullerton
1991


xiii

Introduction

As explained in the preface, at the heart of the collection of interviews in the Japanese American Project of the Oral History Program (OHP) at California State University, Fullerton (CSUF), are those treating the topic of the World War II removal and detention of more than 112,000 Japanese Americans, two-thirds of whom were American citizens. Accordingly, many of the taped reminiscences represented in the collection are those provided by Americans of Japanese ancestry and resident Japanese aliens who were interned principally, though not exclusively, in one or more of several varieties of centers established by the United States government: (1) alien internment camps, administered by the Alien Enemy Control Unit of the Department of Justice and the United States Army; (2) assembly centers, operated by the Army through its quasi-civilian agency, the Wartime Civil Control Administration (WCCA); and (3) relocation, segregation, and isolation centers, managed by the War Relocation Authority (WRA).

Although the interviews with internees that comprise Part I of the Japanese American World War II Evacuation Oral History Project constitute but a fraction of the overall holdings in the CSUF-OHP's Japanese American Project collection relative to this category, they have been selected because, taken together, they are both powerfully illuminating in themselves and revelatory of the diverse and multifaceted internee experience as a whole.

This initial volume consists of six interviews. The first two interviews with Katsuma Mukaeda and Kenko Yamashita are with Issei (immigrant-generation Japanese Americans) who were picked up by federal and local law enforcement agencies in the wake of the December 7, 1941, Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor because their prominent positions in their ethnic community's "power structure" condemned them to the status of "potentially dangerous enemy aliens." Both of these interviews were transacted in conjunction with the CSUF History Department M.A. thesis completed by Japanese American Project member Paul Clark in 1980, "Those Other Camps: An Oral History Analysis of Japanese Alien Enemy Internment During World War II." As Clark points out in his analytical introduction to this study, he riveted upon this topic because it was, and still remains, one of the least studied aspects of the Japanese American experience during World War II; additionally, he explains that he thought it important to approach this experience via the perspectives not only of its administrators but also its interned population. Naturally, the internees in these centers perceived their ordeal and that of their community in different, even contrasting ways. Thus, Mukaeda, whom Clark interviewed in 1975 at his Japanese Chamber of Commerce office in the Little Tokyo district of Los Angeles, largely conveys an uncritical view of his wartime experiences, choosing instead to emphasize the constructive role he played as a leader and spokesman for Japanese internees at the Missoula, Montana; Fort Sill, Oklahoma; and Santa Fe, New Mexico, camps. On the other hand, when Yamashita, a Buddhist bishop at the Zensuji Temple in Los Angeles's Little Tokyo, was interviewed in Japanese by Mariko Yamashita (a CSUF exchange student from Japan) and Clark in 1978, he recounted how his treatment at internment camps in Tujunga, California; Santa Fe and Lordsburg, New Mexico; and Crystal City, Texas, prompted him to repatriate to Japan in the postwar period. To provide a wider framework and context for these two interviews, they have been reprinted here along with the slightly abridged and amended introduction and endnotes Clark prepared for each interview in his thesis.

The next interview included in this volume was conducted with Amy Uno Ishii in 1973 by Betty E. Mitson and Kristen Mitchell. What links this interview to the two preceding ones with Katsuma Mukaeda and Kenko Yamashita is that the interviewee, a Nisei (first-generation American citizen of Japanese ancestry), discusses the internment of her father in five different enemy alien centers between 1941 and 1947. In this interview,


xiv
however, enemy alien internment is commented upon in relationship to its impact on the internee's family, who were evacuated together to the Santa Anita (California) Assembly Center before being divided and dispatched to two separate WRA centers located in the intermountain states of Wyoming (Heart Mountain Relocation Center) and Colorado (Granada Relocation Center). As the interviewee recounts, the war split up her family in an even more decisive and dramatic sense. Whereas her older brother, a war correspondent in China who had married a Japanese national prior to Pearl Harbor, was conscripted as a journalist into the Japanese army, four of her other brothers were volunteers in the United States armed forces. Moreover, at one point, one of these younger brothers, who had gone to the Philippines with Merrill's Marauders, was touring an American POW camp when he realized that one of the prisoners behind barbed wire was, in fact, his older "Japanese" brother.

The interview with Amy Ishii and the succeeding one with Sue Kunitomi Embrey resonate in several respects. First, both interviews are comprehensive life-review documents; so while the Evacuation occupies center stage in each interview (appropriately, since this event is the salient fact of their ethnic community's history), this event is contextualized by a consideration of relevant prewar and postwar developments. Second, both interviewees were brought up in Los Angeles, interned for part of the war at a WRA center (Ishii at Heart Mountain; Embrey at the Manzanar War Relocation Center in eastern California), and then resettled in the Midwest for an interval (Ishii in Chicago; Embrey in Madison, Wisconsin, and Chicago) before returning to resume residency in the Los Angeles area. Third, both narrators belie the stereotype of Nisei women as being silent and submissive; indeed their interviews testify to their shared stridency on behalf of social justice, especially after the camp experience of Japanese Americans became a powerful symbol within the Asian American consciousness movement in the late 1960s.

The interview with Sue Embrey, conducted in 1973 by David Hacker, David Bertagnoli, and myself while she was employed as a curricular specialist for the Asian American Studies Center of the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA), clarifies why it is that her name has become synonymous with that of Manzanar. When she was interned there with her family during World War II, she found employment on the camp newspaper, the Manzanar Free Press, first as a reporter and later as its managing editor. It was not, however, until she took part in a 1969 pilgrimage to the Manzanar site in Inyo County and, shortly thereafter, became the founding chair of the Manzanar Committee, a Los Angeles-based community activist group (whose membership included Amy Ishii), that Manzanar became her public identification badge. As her interview details so graphically, it was then that she and her committee began sponsoring annual pilgrimages to Manzanar and spearheaded a successful struggle to have the state of California register it as a historical landmark, replete with a controversial commemorative plaque that described Manzanar and the rest of the WRA centers as "concentration camps" and attributed their existence to a combination of "hysteria, racism, and economic exploitation."

The final two internees showcased in this volume, Yoriyuke Kikuchi and George Fukasawa, like Embrey, were Manzanarians; both were interviewed by me within a two-week period during the summer of 1974. As with Embrey, too, these men lived in the Los Angeles area prior to World War II, assumed positions of importance in Manzanar's internee setup (Kikuchi as the head of the dental clinic and Fukasawa as a lieutenant in the evacuee police force), and were viewed favorably by the center's Caucasian administration for their cooperative and constructive attitude and behavior. Unlike Embrey, though, these two men, leastwise by 1974, did not experience a postwar transformation in consciousness relative to the causes, conduct, and consequences of the Evacuation to the point where they became either critics of this policy or of the American democratic polity. Kikuchi, an Issei, was married to a Nisei, did not affiliate himself with "nationalistic" Japanese organizations (and thus not apprehended by the FBI following Pearl Harbor), "volunteered instead of being dragged to camp," and became an American citizen soon after Issei became eligible for naturalization in 1952. As for Fukasawa, he was raised in a Christian farm family largely apart from other people of Japanese ancestry in Ventura County, California, moved to the Los Angeles coastal suburb of Santa Monica, attending and ultimately graduating from UCLA, and became a free-lance photographer and an active participant in civic affairs within the mainstream community, thereby developing many contacts among Caucasians.


xv
Additionally, he affiliated himself both with the Santa Monica chapter of the superpatriotic Japanese American Citizens League (JACL), serving as its vice-president, and the Santa Monica Auxiliary Police, so that after Pearl Harbor he worked, in his words, "very closely with the police and the FBI in many of the investigations connected with potentially dangerous aliens." Notwithstanding their generally accommodationist philosophies and practices vis-á-vis the Evacuation, both Kikuchi and Fukasawa offer frank, insightful, and riveting accounts of the early months in the Manzanar center and of the circumstances surrounding the highly publicized Manzanar Riot of December 6, 1942, in which eleven evacuees were wounded by military police gunfire, two of them fatally.

ARTHUR A. HANSEN

California State University, Fullerton
1991

An Interview with
Katsuma Mukaeda
Conducted by Paul F. Clark
on May 22, 1975
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Department of Justice Internment Camps
O.H. 1341b

©1980
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


3

Interview Introduction

Consistent with his role in the pre-World War II Japanese American community in Los Angeles, Katsuma Mukaeda served as an important leader and spokesman for Japanese internees at three alien enemy internment camps where he was detained by the U.S. government during the war. As a result, Mukaeda's interview provides an insight into the mechanisms by which the internees governed their affairs as well as their attitudes toward themselves and camp administrators. Further, his interview reflects in some measure the character of the individuals who, like himself, acted as intermediaries and conciliators.

Born on November 19, 1890, in Kumamoto Prefecture on the island of Kyushu, Japan, Mukaeda attended agricultural school there before coming to the United States in 1908. Thereafter, he took course work at the University of Southern California, studying drama, among other subjects. In 1932 Mukaeda obtained a Bachelor of Law degree from the American University School of Law in Los Angeles.

After World War I, Mukaeda started an export-import business between the United States and Japan. Also, in the 1930s, he maintained agricultural interests in the San Fernando Valley. It was here that he became active in the settlement of Japanese American farm labor disputes. Mukaeda's involvement in Japanese American civic groups may be traced from his 1928 election to the board of directors of the Los Angeles Japanese Chamber of Commerce. He then served as president of the chamber from 1933 until 1935, and again in 1941. When the 1932 Olympic Games came to Los Angeles, Mukaeda assisted the local arrangements committee.

After the Second World War, Mukaeda returned to Los Angeles from internment in early 1946 and quickly became reinvolved in the Japanese American community. In 1950 and 1951 he was president of the Japanese Chamber of Commerce of Southern California. He and his wife, Minolisato Mukaeda, were among the first to receive American citizenship when Congress lifted the naturalization ban against immigrant Japanese in 1952.

The approximately one-hour interview with Katsuma Mukaeda which follows was conducted in his former office on Weller Street in Los Angeles's Little Tokyo area. Upon reviewing the transcript, the interviewee made only minor corrections.


5

Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     Katsuma Mukaeda
  • Interviewer:
  •     Paul F. Clark
  • Subject:
  •     Department of Justice Internment Camps
  • Date:
  •     May 22, 1975
Clark

This is an interview with Mr. Katsuma Mukaeda by Paul F. Clark for the Japanese American Project of the California State University, Fullerton, Oral History Program, at Mr. Mukaeda's office on 125 Weller Street in Los Angeles, California, on May 22, 1975 at 3:30 p.m.

Mr. Mukaeda, I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may, concerning your experiences with the Department of Justice and their network of internment camps during the Second World War. To begin with, could you tell me a little about the experiences leading up to your being placed in these facilities?


Mukaeda

I will be glad to make any statement you need in connection with my experiences during the war. What do you want to know?


Clark

Well, could you first discuss the circumstances surrounding the authorities coming to your house on December 7, 1941 and exactly what transpired there, and then lead into your experiences as an internee at Camp Missoula, Montana?


Mukaeda

On the evening of December 7, 1941, I had a meeting about a dance program to be staged for a dancer who had just returned from Japan after studying there for several years. Of course, the war broke out, I think, before noon that day. I'm sure the FBI [Federal Bureau of Investigation] was looking for me, too. I went home at about 10:00 p.m. after the meeting. At about 11:00 p.m. the FBI and other policemen came to my home. They asked me to come along with them, so I followed them. They picked up one of my friends who lived over in the Silver Lake area. It took over an hour to find his home, so I arrived at the Los Angeles Police Station after 3:00 that night. I was thrown into jail there. They asked for my name and then whether I was connected with the Japanese Consulate. That was all that occurred that night.

In the morning, we were taken to Lincoln City Jail, and we were confined there. I think it was about a week, and then we were transferred to the county jail, in the Hall of Justice.[1] We stayed there about ten days and then we were transferred to the detention camp at Missoula, Montana. At Missoula they built new barracks and we received new beddings. We were detained there until the end of April 1942.



6
Clark

Approximately how many individuals were taken with you from Los Angeles to Fort Missoula?


Mukaeda

I think there were about six hundred people.


Clark

Were they moved to Montana on a special train?


Mukaeda

Yes.

We stayed at Missoula, Montana, until April 29, 1942. Then we were transferred to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, which was under authority of the United States Army. We lived in a tent very comfortably there. The food was very good. But we stayed there only one month.


Clark

Do you remember roughly how many people were interned at Fort Sill? Was it a large camp?


Mukaeda

I think there were about four hundred people. Some people were released from Missoula, Montana, but they left us there. After a month of staying at Fort Sill, we were transferred to Livingston, Louisiana. Of course, that was also under the supervision of the U.S. Army. We were divided into companies--first, second, third, and fourth companies--with two hundred people in each. People from Costa Rica joined us there.


Clark

Were they Japanese?


Mukaeda

Oh, yes, they were Japanese. In June 1943, we were transferred to Santa Fe, New Mexico. That was the last place we were at. I stayed there until February 19, 1946.


Clark

Perhaps you could comment on some of the individuals that administered these camps?


Mukaeda

Mr. Collaer was head of the detention camp at Missoula, Montana, and he treated us very nicely.[2] We formed a self-governing body among ourselves and I took charge of the supply office. I helped supply clothes and shoes and shirts and all the wearings, you know. We didn't have very many good things there for supplies. The detainees had what they brought from their homes. They didn't suffer. Of course, it was a very cold country. So most of the time we stayed in the barracks.


Clark

Do you remember the visits of Reverend Herbert Nicholson to Missoula?


Mukaeda

Yes. He visited us and so did Dr. Reifsnider, an Episcopal minister who used to be in Tokyo.[3]

An immigration officer started to question some of the people who were suspected for spying, or something. He was being rough with the detainees there. Finally, they found out that he was beating up some of the detainees and I think the main office in Washington called him back and he got discharged.


Clark

Was this at Fort Missoula?


Mukaeda

Yes, he was one of the inspectors named Mr. Bliss. He wasn't on very good terms with the Japanese here in Los Angeles. He had a grudge against them, I guess. It is very seldom that you find that kind of person. He was very nice to me, though.[4] (laughter) They thought that I was very closely connected with the Japanese


7
Consulate before the war because I was doing Japanese culture work in this country before the war, as I do even now. Of course, we had to have help from the Japanese Culture Society[5] to get material. One question they asked me was, "Are you a counselor for the Japanese Consulate?" I said, "No." I was reading Shakespearean drama at the camp in Missoula, Montana. An inspector asked me if I was going to be an actor. I said, "No, I'm just reading it." I studied Shakespearean drama. I had time and I started to read.

In Fort Sill, Oklahoma, we were interned, given a number, and placed under the supervision of the U.S. Army. We didn't have many complaints. It was just a month's stay. Then we were transferred to Louisiana. They had the internee camp divided into companies of about two hundred people each. There were about four companies. I was a company leader and reported to a commander. Later, he became Captain Cox. My company didn't have much trouble and I supervised them right along. They didn't have a single bit of trouble. All of the other companies had some kind of trouble among the internees and they didn't like the leaders. We started to play baseball. We had the prisoners of war from the Midway naval battle, the Japanese sailors taken in there. They were quite a few blocks away but they were in the area. So we used to play baseball games between the internees and the Navy war prisoners. We had to have some kind of recreation. We spent almost one year there, altogether. We had a sand green golf course in the camp. We used to play golf in a pine forest. We managed to play all right. Our stay at Livingston, Louisiana, was pretty fair. We got by all right.

After we came to Santa Fe, New Mexico, some people from Hawaii joined us. Japanese from Peru joined us there also. So altogether there were about one thousand people there at once. Of course, we had to organize the self-government there. I had the most difficult job. We had to manage ourselves with internee doctors and orderlies. They didn't get along. These doctors were jealous of each other or something. When the doctor who had examined the internees--a doctor of internal medicine--thought an operation was necessary, he turned it over to the surgeon. The surgeon refused to do anything, so I had to work to make everything smooth among themselves. I had to act between them in the hopes of bringing cooperation among those persons. The people thought that I was the only one who could do it, so I did it. It was later on that they elected me as spokesman. Everybody liked me and they all cooperated with me and they listened to my orders. I had no trouble. I always suggested ways of providing more comfortable living to the head of the camp. The first time I did so in the internee camp was about the selling of liquor. I asked the head man, "Please give us permission to sell beer. Not wine, but beer only. It's not so strong. I guarantee they will give you no trouble." So he gave us permission and we started to sell beer and everybody enjoyed it very much. Up until that time, they bought raisins and tried to make wine with them. To avoid that kind of illegal act, I asked him to let us sell beer, and he gave us permission and everybody enjoyed it very much.[6] Later on he said, "I am going to let those people who cooperated with the government's orders go out and enjoy a picnic outside the fence." So I picked them up, the persons who were cooperative and honest, every weekend. I sent off about a couple of dozen boys on a truck, with sandwiches, to have a good time. They enjoyed it. They used to bring me back petrified wood.


Clark

They were able, then, to wander quite far from the camp?


Mukaeda

That's right. Everything went along very nicely. It's very hard to stay on that kind of job. After six months I wanted to retire, and I retired.


8

Then the trouble began! Some of the rough, hardheaded boys, who gave up their American citizenship and wanted to go back to Japan, had something drawn on their shirt with the rising sun right on the front. That kind of thing is against the camp rules. The administration told them to take them off, but they didn't do it. They clashed with the officers of the camp after they were ordered to disband a meeting. The officers threw tear gas and then they disbanded. Before they did disband, some of the internees went along and spoke against the officers with dirty words. They got beaten up.

Then the relationship between the internees and the officers was made hard. The internees refused to do anything in the camp. The laundry stopped. It was more like a strike. Of course, the mess hall was all right, but some of the work sections went along with the strike. The camp officers could not communicate with the internees, so a man came from Washington, D.C., a Mr. [Willard F.] Kelly.[7] They called me in and said, "Mr. Mukaeda, can you help us restore the peace between the camp authorities and the internees?" I said I would try. I restored it in a couple of days. Everything went smoothly. The internees trusted me all right. When I talked to them, they listened plenty. They trusted me because I did a lot of good for them. I let them go outside the fence. I started to sell beer in the canteen. There were many things that I did.

Also, at New Year's time, the Japanese like to eat rice cakes. That is ceremonial food for them. It was January 1, 1945, the year that the Japanese army surrendered. At that time, I was a spokesman, too. So I asked the camp head officer, "If you can give us rice to make rice cakes, I'm sure that the internees will be much better." He said, "All right. I will do that." He asked what they needed. I told him they needed some fish cake, fish, and a New Year's dinner. He said, "All right. I promise you, Mr. Mukaeda."

We needed a special kind of rice. You had to steam it and pound it and make it into a round cake, and then boil it and eat it on New Year's day. That kind of rice was scarce, but the head of the camp, Mr. [Ivan] Williams,8 promised me, "I will send to the relocation center at Amache, Colorado, if the rice comes available. I sure will arrange for you to get rice enough to make rice cakes for the entire camp." Amache, Colorado, was about four hundred miles from Santa Fe. Also, at that time, there were one thousand people at Santa Fe. There was a lot of rice needed there, but just one piece would be enough for two people. Also, a certain kind of fish and fish cakes were needed. But the rice didn't come on December 30. [December] 31 was the last day that we could make rice because on January 1, we would eat it. We waited and waited but it didn't come until December 31. So I called all of the barrack leaders and told them how hard I had tried, but that it looked like it wouldn't come. They were waiting. They were so happy if they could eat that. It was the feeling that was important since they were confined in that camp for four years and, mentally, they were depressed. So I tried to make them happy. I told them, "It doesn't look like there is going to be any rice cakes this time." Then a telephone call came from Amache, Colorado. "The rice arrived. Come and get it." Mr. Williams sent for it. He said, "Even if it takes all night, it doesn't make any difference. I'll bring it back." He rushed and brought it back on December 31. So we steamed and pounded all night to make rice cakes and celebrated New Year's on January 1, 1945. They were so happy! Special kind of fish with the head. The fish they eat has the head, which they eat for a ceremonial dinner. And they were happy. They never eat that kind of dinner in camp.

After that, I think it was about in April, I resigned as spokesman and Mr. Williams told me, "Mr. Mukaeda, you are going to work in the censor's office. That is very


9
sensitive work. You are going to make a list of all of the incoming mail." Of course, I didn't need to read the mail, but I had to make a list of all kinds of mail that came to the internees. Highly trusted men were the only ones who could work there, and Williams said, "We can trust you. So, please, you go and work there." So they treated me very well after that; they found out my ability and also the internees had confidence in me. Then, in about April or May, before Japan surrendered, I told Mr. Williams one day after I had read Time magazine, I can see Japan is coming to their knees. I think they will surrender. I can see what kind of man is being watched and arrested by the military government of Japan. They are all pro-American people. They're the ones that are fighting against militarists. In August, the atomic bombs fell there. That was the end. But still, some of the internees believed that Japan never lost the war. When Life came out with the picture of General MacArthur with the emperor, they didn't trust it. That was a propaganda picture, they said.9


Clark

Oh, really.


Mukaeda

Yes. Crazy!


Clark

Was this at Santa Fe?


Mukaeda

Yes, at Santa Fe. I had a hard time with them. No matter how much you explain, they would not believe. In 1945, I used to teach. I said, "You are interned here. You are talking about Japanese only, but you must know America and American people. I think there are people who are going to stay here." So I opened the class to teach the American government and citizenship, just like a lesson you give to people who take naturalization course, but a little more than that. I had conducted the class there after I resigned as spokesman. The first time I had about forty people. Later on, I had about seventy people who used to come to my lecture for about one hour every morning, from ten to eleven [o'clock].

When Japan surrendered, some people wanted to go back to Japan, so Mr. Williams called me into his office and said, "Mr. Mukaeda, if I handle this, it may take a year, because I don't have enough help. Could you ask the internees what they wish and divide them into persons who will stay in this country and the internees who would go back to Japan?" He told me to organize an office, and he said he would bring me all the necessary typewriters if I could get an assistant who could speak and write English. Then he would send one inspector after I recommended what to do, whether to stay in this country or go back to Japan. So I organized an office for a person who could handle a typewriter. We just asked the internee's name and whether he wanted to go back to Japan, or if he didn't want to go back to Japan, both things. I finished this in about a month, I think, because we started in about September, and they left the camp in December. About one-third of them went back to Japan. They left from Portland and Seattle. They believed that Japan won the war. (laughter) They didn't want to believe that Japan was defeated. Two-thirds of the internees stayed here.

I spent four years and one month in internment. I worked almost every year except the three months, but during that three months I was teaching the American government and citizenship. I was released from the Department of Justice after a hearing in December 1945. The release order came on February 11, 1946. In order to prepare and get the tickets for the train, I left there one week afterward. It was February 19 when I came to Los Angeles. We were, of course, aliens because we weren't American citizens and we were nationals of an enemy country. Under international law, the community leaders could be interned at the time of war. So I have no complaints to make.


10
Right after I came back, the Japanese community formed a civil rights defense committee to get citizenship rights for the Japanese. The Nisei started to work for us--those people who fought in Europe, you know, the 442nd. Those people took leadership in that movement. I worked with them and I headed the committee for five years until we, the Issei, got American citizenship eligibility. That was in 1952.10 Every year I had to raise about $20,000 for that work. So most of my time I worked for the committee.

At the same time, I have trusted in the American people ever since I came to this country. That's why I came to this country. I was educated in Japan when they had the Russo-Japanese War. At that time, America was an ally and helped Japan win the war by raising $200 million. Japan was on the verge of bankruptcy at the end of the war but they trusted us. That's why we were taught in public school that America was the best of friends. That's why we used to sing American songs in school. That's why I associated with the American people in my country. They were kind. I thought America was a free country. At that time in Japan, it was so bureaucratic. I didn't like it, so I wanted to come here. I asked my mother several times for her permission to go to America, but she did not give me permission to come here. After repeated appeals I came here because I trusted the American people, even though they didn't give us American citizenship. Someday I was sure they would recognize us and treat us right. I have always trusted them. That's why I came here and I went to school. I later went to the University of Southern California. I got a law degree here, but I could not take the bar examination because I was not an American citizen at that time. But my life in the United States was very comfortable. I made many friends in schools and in society. I have no complaints whatsoever and I became an American citizen in May 1953. I was the head of the Japanese Chamber of Commerce before the war two times, and after the war, I have been its head four times. I am an adviser right now. In fact, I must now go to a meeting to try to convince the city to have a Japanese Cultural and Community Center here in Japanese town.


Clark

On behalf of the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Oral History Project, thank you very much for your time, Mr. Mukaeda.



11

Notes

1. In one official contemporary source, there appears the following Japanese protest: "The Japanese subjects who were interned at the Lincoln Heights Jail, Los Angeles, were put in dark cells together with convicts and for two weeks were not allowed either to see sunlight or to go out into the open air." See Foreign Relations, 1943,1052. There seems to have been no published American reply addressed specifically to this charge.

2. Collaer was first the supervisor of alien detentions from early 1941 to the summer of 1942. He was then relieved of this assignment and transferred to Crystal City to organize that camp. By April 1943, Collaer had left Crystal City to assume duties in the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) headquarters in Philadelphia. In late 1944 and early 1945 he was the acting assistant commissioner for alien control. After the war he served as the chief of the INS's detention and deportation service.

3. See Herbert V. Nicholson, Treasure in Earthen Vessels (Whittier, Calif.: Penn Lithographics, 1974), 64-66. For information on Reifsnider, see Betty E. Mitson, "Friend Herbert: Concern in Action within America's Concentration Camps" (unpublished manuscript, 1980), 63-64; 193-94. This significant study, grounded in and sustained by a series of interviews transacted by Mitson with Nicholson, was initially conceived as a M.A. thesis in the Department of History at California State University, Fullerton. Currently, the only extant copy is in the author's possession.

4. This incident was protested by the Japanese government. The American reply, found in Foreign Relations, 1943, 1078, reads as follows: "In its complaint the Japanese Government has again referred to the misconduct of certain employees of the American Government at Fort Lincoln and Fort Missoula toward Japanese nationals. As the Department of State informed the [Spanish] Embassy in the Department's memorandum of August 6, 1942, the two Korean interpreters involved in the incident at Fort Lincoln were dismissed. Moreover, Inspector Bliss and Special Inspector Herstrom, who were also mentioned in the Department's memorandum of August 6, have been expelled from the Service and the commander of Fort Missoula was removed."

5. Mukaeda served as the executive director of the Japanese Cultural Society from 1937 to 1941. The group cooperated with the International Cultural Relations Society in Japan in encouraging cultural exchange projects.

6. In early December 1944, the issuing of beer from the internee canteen gave rise to an episode wherein an internee was discovered hoarding over twenty bottles of beer after a drunken rampage in his barracks. Ivan Williams, the officer-in-charge, reported on this individual's disciplinary hearing: "The writer, upon this investigation, had present the Japanese spokesman and other internees and after the hearing was completed, they all agreed [name withheld] should be punished for his actions. Therefore, the writer sentenced [name withheld] to serve ten days in confinement in the small room in the Control Office." See Ivan Williams to W. F. Kelly, 13 December 1944, file 1300/P, box 239, Santa Fe, Record Group [RG] 85, General Archives Division [GAD], Washington National Records Center [WNRC], Suitland, Maryland.

7. Kelly was the chief supervisor of the border patrol in 1941. Later he became the INS's associate commissioner for alien control, a position he held through 1946.


12

Index

  • Amache War Relocation Center, Colorado, 8
  • Bliss, Mr., 6
  • Collaer, Nick D., 6
  • Cox, Captain, 7
  • FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), 5
  • Fort Missoula, Montana, see United States Dept. of Justice
  • Fort Sill, Oklahoma, see United States Army
  • Japan, repatriation to, 9
  • Japanese Americans
    • attitudes toward, 6
    • community organizations,
      • Japanese Cultural Community Center, 10
      • Japanese Culture Society, 7
  • Kelly, [Willard F.], 8
  • Life magazine, 9
  • Livingston, LA
    • internment at, 6, 7
    • recreation at, 8
    • see also United States Army
  • Los Angeles, CA, 11
    • Hall of Justice, 5
  • Los Angeles County Jail, 5
  • MacArthur, Douglas, 10
  • Missoula, MT, 6
  • Mukaeda, Katsuma
    • activities of, 9-10
    • attitudes of, 10
    • education, 10
    • internment, 5-10
  • Nicholson, Herbert, 6
  • Reifsnider, Charles S., 6
  • Repatriation, see Japan
  • Santa Fe, NM, see United States Dept. of Justice
  • Time magazine, 9
  • United States Army
    • Fort Sill, OK, 6
    • 442nd Infantry Battalion, 10
    • Livingston, LA
      • internment at, 6, 7
      • recreation at, 7
  • United States Dept. of Justice internment camps
    • Fort Missoula, MT, 5, 6
      • administration of, 6
      • cultural activities, 7
    • Santa Fe, NM, 6-7
      • internment at, 7
      • strike at, 8, 10, 11
  • Williams, (Ivan), 8

An Interview with
Kenko Yamashita
Conducted by Mariko Yamashita and Paul F. Clark
on August 10, 1978
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Department of Justice Internment Camps
Internee Experience
O.H. 1617

©1980
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


15

Interview Introduction

While the majority of the Japanese aliens detained by the U.S. government in internment camps during World War II remained in the United States following the war, a substantial number chose to return to their native country. Reverend Kenko Yamashita, a Buddhist minister, was among those who repatriated to Japan. Like many of his fellow internees, Yamashita embarked upon a multicamp odyssey in the wake of the December 7, 1941 Japanese attack upon Pearl Harbor. Thus this interview covers many different internment camps, and also details the hearing process endured in them.

Kenko Yamashita was born in central Honshu, Japan, and later came to America as a young minister in 1938. He served mainly at the Zensuji Buddhist Temple in Los Angeles, but he also taught in Japanese language schools throughout southern California. As the interview relates, Yamashita was arrested relatively late in the post-Pearl Harbor roundup by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and was detained at two locations, a temporary camp in Tujunga, California, and at Santa Fe, New Mexico. Subsequently, the United States Attorney General ordered that he be transferred to the United States Army facility at Lordsburg, New Mexico, and interned there. Finally, he was permitted to rejoin his wife and child at the Crystal City, Texas, family internment camp. At the war's end, Yamashita sailed back to Japan for a ten-year sojourn, after which he returned to America.

At the time of his 1978 interview, Kenko Yamashita was a Buddhist bishop at the Zensuji Temple in Los Angeles. It was at this temple, located in the Little Tokyo district of Los Angeles, that the two-hour interview with him was conducted, principally in Japanese, by Mariko Yamashita (under the direction of Paul Clark). Reverend Yamashita has examined and approved, with very few changes, both the Japanese transcript of the interview and the English translation herein reproduced.


17

Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     Kenko Yamashita
  • Interviewer:
  •     Mariko Yamashita and Paul F. Clark
  • Subject:
  •     Department of Justice Internment Camps
    Internee Experience
  • Date:
  •     August 10, 1978
Clark

This is an interview with Reverend Kenko Yamashita for the Japanese American Project of the California State University, Fullerton, Oral History Program. Today's interview is at the Zensuji Buddhist Temple in Los Angeles, California. The date is August 10, 1978. The interviewers are Mariko Yamashita and Paul F. Clark. The interview will be conducted in Japanese with Miss Yamashita acting as the principal interviewer.

Mariko, would you like to begin the interview?


M. Yamashita

Okay. (to interviewee) First, in which part of Japan were you born? Secondly, would you tell us something about yourself before World War II broke out?


K. Yamashita

I was born in Gifu City in Gifu Prefecture. Do you know where Gifu Prefecture is? Do you know Ukai City? The Nagara River runs there.


M. Yamashita

Yes, I do.


K. Yamashita

I'm the second son of the honke [head family] of Ukai.


M. Yamashita

Are you? When did you come to America?


K. Yamashita

I think it was in 1938. I came here after the China war broke out. It was four years before the war between the United States and Japan.


M. Yamashita

Did you start working for the Zensuji Temple soon after your arrival?


K. Yamashita

Yes. It was located on its present site.


M. Yamashita

Did you know that the FBI [Federal Bureau of Investigation] had already started listing the Japanese before World War II?


K. Yamashita

Yes, I knew that very well. I was very surprised at that.



18
M. Yamashita

Could you tell us what happened? I imagine the Japanese people were surprised.


K. Yamashita

We heard various news reports before the war between Japan and the United States broke out, but most of the Japanese thought Japan would not wage a war against America. [Before the war] the Japanese people who had been sent to the Japanese consulate, banks, and companies here received an order from Japan, and they went back to Japan. First, they [each] sent their wife and children back.

A friend of mine, who was working at a bank, said, "Sensei [minister and/or teacher], you'd better go back to Japan." But our situation was different from theirs. We came here to live. People [who had immigrated] here were not trying to move, so we never thought we would move. I just listened to the news. There is no doubt that a tense atmosphere was growing.

On December 8, 1941--eighth in Japan but seventh here--I taught at a Sunday school at Riverside, [California]. I was only about twenty-eight at that time. I took my wife and child there and taught. I gave my students a break--I don't remember whether it was before noon or after. They went out to their car and listened to their car radio. They came back and said, "Sensei, the war has broke out." I said, "Which countries are fighting?" They said, "Japan and America!" They also told me that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor. I was surprised but couldn't believe it. I didn't pay much attention to it because I thought it couldn't happen. So I continued teaching as usual. After that, I saw police cars patrolling around the Japanese houses near the school, so I thought it might really have happened. By the evening, people had heard the news, and those who were living near the school gathered.


M. Yamashita

At the Sunday school?


K. Yamashita

Yes. Some of them said that watchmen stood outside. They said all the Japanese would be stopped, so we'd better be careful.


M. Yamashita

How did people react? Were they surprised?


K. Yamashita

We never thought the war would last that long, but Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. We were surprised at the news and that was the only topic of our conversation at that time. I turned the radio on and heard many news reports. I just listened to them but I didn't take it very seriously. I felt like I was just listening to the result of a baseball match. But the Japanese people who just came back from Los Angeles said they [the FBI] had already started arresting the Japanese. So I started worrying. I stayed there at Riverside that night and came back here [to Los Angeles] the next morning. The roads I had passed through the day before seemed like they had turned into an enemy area by the next day. I drove very carefully. When I was driving, I saw two motor cops in the back mirror. I thought I was done for. Both cars approached, one on each side of my car and stopped me, as I expected. Then they asked me to show my license. My license indicated that I was a minister. So they asked, "Are you a minister? We've just received a report that a Japanese is driving. That's why we stopped you. But you are a minister, so there is no trouble." Then they left.


M. Yamashita

I see. When did the FBI start arresting people?


K. Yamashita

They started right on the first day. I happened to be in Riverside, so I didn't know that had happened. On the night after Pearl Harbor was attacked, the Japanese Buddhist Church Federation held a ceremony in Los Angeles. That day falls on the day when Buddha attained enlightenment. When the ceremony was coming to an end,


19
we were surrounded by the FBI. Mr. [Katsuma] Mukaeda and the other Japanese American community leaders were taken by them. I thought the FBI would come and pick me up soon because of this. So I put my belongings into a suitcase and I prepared to go at a moment's notice.


M. Yamashita

So you were ready for it?


K. Yamashita

Yes. I was ready for it from the beginning. But they came on March 13, 1942. I was tired of waiting so long. (laughter)


M. Yamashita

(laughter) Then you were taken long after Mr. Mukaeda was arrested?


K. Yamashita

Yes. Mr. Mukaeda was before me. I had been playing kendo [Japanese fencing], so they kept their eye on me for that. I was a kendo teacher, so they listed me as a kendo man. I was also teaching at the Japanese language school, which they also put on the list. Both things were on the list, but they didn't list me as a minister. People who just devoted themselves to serving as a minister and didn't play kendo, teach Japanese school, or weren't active in Japanese groups weren't listed.


M. Yamashita

When did the FBI men come to your house?


K. Yamashita

They came in the early morning to the Zensuji Temple.


M. Yamashita

Did they come without notice?


K. Yamashita

No, not a notice. I was on the morning service and reciting sutra [sacred Buddhist scripture]. The FBI men were there, but they didn't come in immediately because I was preaching. When I finished it, they came up to me and said, "We are going to take you and your wife."


M. Yamashita

Your wife, too?


K. Yamashita

Yes, they said they were going to take my wife, too. My wife was also a schoolteacher. We had a baby who was six months old. I said, "Who will take care of our baby?" They stood and looked puzzled. Then they crossed out my wife's name, so she didn't have to go. First, I was taken to the Los Angeles County Jail.


M. Yamashita

How long did you stay there? Did they take you somewhere after that?


K. Yamashita

I stayed there one night and was taken to Tujunga.


M. Yamashita

Where is it?


K. Yamashita

It's near Los Angeles. I was taken there and stayed there for about two weeks.


M. Yamashita

Were you taken there with other Japanese?


K. Yamashita

Yes, with many Japanese. And then to an internment camp at Santa Fe, New Mexico. There we had a hearing. After the hearing, I was put into a group classified as "undesirable enemy aliens." I wasn't an undesirable enemy alien, but they thought I was. They asked us strange questions.


M. Yamashita

What did they ask?


K. Yamashita

They asked various questions.



20
M. Yamashita

Could you elaborate on that?


K. Yamashita

They said to me, "Japan made a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor." So I said, "That's what you say. I don't even know whether it was a surprise or not." Then they asked me whether I thought Japan would win the war or not. So I said, "That's absurd, (laughter) who should hope to see his own mother country lose a war?" That was my reaction. But the judge didn't like what I said, and then they changed the subject. They said that I had been playing kendo. Have you ever heard of Kokuryukai--the one led by Toyama Mitsuru sensei?


M. Yamashita

Yes, I have.


K. Yamashita

They asked me whether I was a member of Butokukai because I had been playing kendo. I said, "Yes." They asked me how long I had been a member of the club. I had been a member for about fifteen years. When you start learning kendo, you automatically join Butokukai but you have nothing to do with the club. You just register your name. The judge said that I must have a high position in the club. I said I didn't have that at all. Next they asked me how did I translate Butokukai into English. I said, "I can't translate it into English because it's a particular Japanese word that is difficult to translate into English." At that moment, I was carrying on the conversation in English, and I couldn't translate that word.

There was a Korean foreign student named Kim, who had been graduated from Doshisha University in Kyoto. Korean people had no trouble [being detained], so he was sent there as an interpreter. They said they were going to bring an interpreter, which they did. So I said, "You won't understand what it means even if you ask him." (laughter) He came in there and was asked to translate Butokukai into English. I said, "That word can't be translated into English. That's absurd." Mr. Kim took a concise dictionary from his pocket. I said, "Don't be silly. I often use the dictionary, but I couldn't find any English word for Butokukai." But, can you imagine, he did it!


M. Yamashita

What was the English for it?


K. Yamashita

"Military Virtue Association" in English. He looked up in the dictionary and found "Bu" is translated in English as "military." You know bushi, samurai? (Talking to Clark) Toku is "virtue." And "association" is for Kai. When I looked at the English translation for Butokukai later, it was translated as "Military Virtue Association." I was disgusted at that. It had nothing to do with military, you know.


M. Yamashita

It means martial arts, doesn't it?


K. Yamashita

Right. But the judge asked many questions because he thought I had some relationship with Japan's navy or army. So I said, "That's ridiculous. I have no relationship with them." I belonged to Kokuryukai and played kendo with a sword. So they looked on me as an "undesirable enemy alien." (laughter)


M. Yamashita

What was your impression of the Santa Fe camp? Were you taken there by train? What was it like? You were parted from your wife.


K. Yamashita

It was sad, of course, but wasn't a time to think about them. We were in great numbers so I felt encouraged. I felt badly when we got off the train at a station and found people watching us, and the watchmen [soldiers] stood with guns in their hands.


21

On the train, we just sat, and the black waiters brought us plates and served nice food. The food was too good. One bad guy was circulating false rumors. He said that in every country a prisoner is served good food before he is put to death. So when the train would arrive in the middle of the desert, we might be lined up and shot to death, one by one. What he said created silence.


M. Yamashita

Did you know that you were being taken to Santa Fe?


K. Yamashita

They [the other Japanese] said that we were probably being taken to Santa Fe; I heard that from them. When we arrived at Santa Fe, I saw a high mountain. They used to put the German war prisoners there in that camp during the First World War. They remodeled it and put in the Japanese.


M. Yamashita

The barracks were already built?


K. Yamashita

Yes.


M. Yamashita

Among the many Japanese in the camp, was there any leader, or did you make up groups to perform certain duties, or anything like that?


K. Yamashita

Yes, we made up a self-government and elected a Japanese governor, who represented the Japanese. There were about fifty in a barrack, each barrack had one leader. There was nothing to do there. All we did was go to the mess hall to eat, and we took walks in the camp. The internees took turns in their duties for such things as sweeping the mess hall.


M. Yamashita

Did the Japanese do their own cooking? Did you eat Japanese food?


K. Yamashita

No, we had pork and beans often. Some Japanese volunteered to cook. They also worked as waiters and served coffee in turn. We just went there and ate. Sixty and seventy year old people put on aprons and worked when their turn came. I was twenty-nine at that time. The ministers were all young. One time the ministers got together and decided not to let the old people work like that. We couldn't stand watching the old people working like that, so the ministers volunteered for the job. We served breakfast, lunch, and dinner.


M. Yamashita

How many Buddhist ministers were there?


K. Yamashita

About twenty altogether. There were Christian and Shinto ministers, too, but we didn't know much about them. Only we [Buddhist ministers] took the job and kept working.


M. Yamashita

Did you have Sunday services?


K. Yamashita

Yes, we did. We always had Sunday services in the mess hall and we ministers preached in turns every Sunday. Many people came and filled the mess hall because they had plenty of free time in the camp. So we preached as hard as we could.


M. Yamashita

Do you know Reverend Herbert Nicholson?


K. Yamashita

Yes, I know him. I have read his book Valiant Odyssey and I have it here.[1]


M. Yamashita

He visited many camps. Do you recall when he visited Santa Fe?



22
K. Yamashita

I don't recall him coming and doing anything there.


M. Yamashita

Was there any problem between the people from different places, like California and Hawaii or some other places, because of the pressures they were put under?


K. Yamashita

No, not particularly. For one thing, we all had the same identity and were in the same situation. People who had owned a big business and had high positions became equal there with poor people. Not only that, but our mother country was at war; we had a feeling in common. Of course, there might have been some argument between the individuals but we didn't part into groups, such as from San Francisco, Los Angeles, or Hawaii. They were cooperative.


M. Yamashita

Caucasian soldiers were working in the camp. Did they eat in the same place?


K. Yamashita

No, they did that elsewhere.


M. Yamashita

Did you get along well with them?


K. Yamashita

We didn't have many chances to have any contact with them. The officers had their mess hall, and the Japanese volunteered to cook there. They got along well with each other. There wasn't any serious problem. I'm not sure whether it happened at Santa Fe or not, but a friend of mine who was cooking in the officers' mess hall told one of the officers to try some soy sauce. Then the officer held his nose and said, "Oh, no!" So he [the friend] told me he was going to get him to try it. He soaked the meat in soy sauce and cut it into steak. The officer ate it without knowing, and said, "It's very delicious." He said the steak was more delicious than any steak he'd ever had. This friend of mine said, "It has soy sauce. It serves you right!" He played a trick on him, but they became good friends with each other.


M. Yamashita

How long were you in Santa Fe?


K. Yamashita

For one year in Santa Fe and then I went to Lordsburg, [New Mexico].


M. Yamashita

Did you have any cultural (understood by interviewee as karuta) activity like Shogatsu [New Years celebration] or anything like that? Did a great number of people participate in such an activity?


K. Yamashita

We didn't play karuta [Japanese cards played on New Year's Day] because we didn't have it here. We played go [Japanese game played with black and white stones] and shogi [Japanese chess].


M. Yamashita

Did you bring them to the camp or were they sent in?


K. Yamashita

They were sent. We got our families outside to send them.


M. Yamashita

So was it permitted?


K. Yamashita

Yes. We also played Mah-jongg. Some practiced shooting, No [Japanese dance-drama] chanting, and drawing pictures. Some who were good at English taught English. Some began to learn knitting. Some people picked up stones and polished them. The camp was in the desert so there were hard trees. They polished that type of wood in the camp. Some of them picked up potato net bags, which had been thrown away. They untied them and made cigarette cases, wallets, handbags, and many other things. They applied varnish over them and dried them. They made very nice


23
crafts. Many people learned many things in the camp. I lectured on Zen Buddhism once a week. People in the camp did what they liked and enjoyed it.


M. Yamashita

Did you celebrate New Year's Day? Did you have any special events on the day like making rice cake as they do in Japan?


K. Yamashita

There was no way of making rice cake, but when I was in Crystal City, Texas . . .


M. Yamashita

Was it the third or fourth camp you were taken to?


K. Yamashita

Yes, the fourth. When I was in Crystal City camp in Texas, the head man was Mr. O'Rourke. He understood the Japanese very well and did many things for us. On New Year's Day, he delivered one gallon of sake to us.


M. Yamashita

Where did he get it from?


K. Yamashita

We knew there was sake in America. If he had pretended he didn't know that, we couldn't have had it.[2]


M. Yamashita

So you had sake on New Year's Day.


K. Yamashita

Everybody got drunk and enjoyed it. Crystal City was a family camp.


M. Yamashita

You were together there with your family?


K. Yamashita

Yes, my family was sent there so we could be together. There were only men in the Santa Fe and Lordsburg camps. We lived in barracks and there was nothing else there. All we did was go to the mess hall to eat and come back to the barracks. But in Lordsburg we had beer.


M. Yamashita

Was a canteen there? Did the Japanese sell beer?


K. Yamashita

No, they [the administration] sold it but the Japanese helped them.


M. Yamashita

Did you buy it with tickets?


K. Yamashita

We got it with tickets [scrip] since we didn't have money. They gave tickets to every one of us.


M. Yamashita

So drinking an alcoholic beverage was permitted?


K. Yamashita

Yes, it was permitted. We didn't hide to drink; we did it openly. There was a good canteen and beer bottles were put in array. They didn't have whiskey or other liquors. They just had soft drinks.

I had a rehearing there. My wife had petitioned to have me released and sent to be with her at the Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming. About two hundred American citizens and Japanese had signed the petition. In the rehearing, they were trying to send me to Wyoming. They said, "I won't change my mind." They said, "If you still insist on what you said, you won't be able to see your family. Don't you want to see them?" Then they asked what I was going to do with my family. I petitioned to send my family to the Crystal City camp in Texas because that was a family camp. Then they permitted me to do that.


M. Yamashita

So you could get together with your family in the fourth camp?



24
K. Yamashita

First, Santa Fe, Lordsburg, and then I went back to Santa Fe.


M. Yamashita

Back to Santa Fe again?


K. Yamashita

First, Tujunga, then Santa Fe, Lordsburg, and Crystal City. The Crystal City camp was very good. I heard that the relocation centers had good mess halls, hospitals, and school--grammar through high school. Every camp had educational facilities, and hospitals, and eating places. The Crystal City camp, a Japanese language school was also built, but there weren't enough textbooks. So the teachers took textbooks and copied them for the school kids--grammar through high school students. So they learned Japanese there. They used the printing facilities and papers in the office.


M. Yamashita

How long were you in the Crystal City camp?


K. Yamashita

About two years.


M. Yamashita

Then you stayed there as long as you were in Santa Fe?


K. Yamashita

Yes, overall, half in Santa Fe and half in Crystal City.


M. Yamashita

Did many Japanese who had been in the Santa Fe camp go to Crystal City with you?


K. Yamashita

Yes, we went there in a group.


M. Yamashita

We heard that there was some kind of a riot in Lordsburg.


K. Yamashita

Oh, yes. The man in charge of that happening was Mr. Yaemitsu Sugimachi, a best friend of mine.


M. Yamashita

Was he? Is he still well?


K. Yamashita

No, he passed away. He was a governor at that time. What was going on was, they tried to take the Japanese for work. That caused the trouble because some of the internees didn't like being forced to work.


M. Yamashita

How did the administration people react?


K. Yamashita

Watchmen guards stood in front of the barracks with guns in their hands. They just stood and watched. They didn't show any feeling of animosity and they didn't attack them. Sugimachi was put into a special place because he was a governor and in charge of the incident. They put him [Sugimachi] on good behavior. They didn't throw stones or break anything. He [Sugimachi] was taking a nap there. I left for Santa Fe while it was on.

One day the Japanese sailors who had been taken as war prisoners put up a Japanese flag over the barracks. They had asked somebody to sew two sheets together, which they did. They drew on it a red circle in ink or something, and then they put the flag over the barrack.


M. Yamashita

So they raised a Japanese flag in the camp? Was this at Lordsburg?


K. Yamashita

Yes, it was at Lordsburg. The watchmen [soldiers] came and tried to pull it down. Then the officer told the Japanese governor that even an American flag couldn't be put up. He explained that the camp was kind of an international or neutral place;


25
so a Japanese flag couldn't be put up, which the Japanese understood well. Then he [the governor] told the sailors about it. There was such a happening like that, but I don't recall any fight against the officers at all.


M. Yamashita

So they got along well.


K. Yamashita

At Lordsburg and Crystal City; especially Crystal City was good. But because Manzanar and Tule Lake were relocation camps, they had troubles.


M. Yamashita

Did you hear about what was going on in the other camps?


K. Yamashita

Yes, I did.


M. Yamashita

What did you hear?


K. Yamashita

We thought, "They were young, and vigorous, and troublesome." Nisei are American citizens, so they complained of being put into camps. While the Japanese [Kibei] who spoke Japanese well despised America. I can't judge whether they were right or wrong but that's the way they felt at that time. The life in the camps where I stayed for four years wasn't a pleasant one, of course. I had no freedom to go outside. But, considering I was in the enemy's country during the war, I admit we were protected for the time being and we had enough facilities there. After the war was over and the American occupation of Japan ended, Japanese began to express many of their opinions. Many visited America and wrote articles in magazines that the Japanese had been deprived of their freedom in the camps, things like that. But I can't look at it as they did. Some Nisei and Sansei complained about it, too, saying it was unfair to intern Japanese, especially Nisei. My American friends also said, in retrospect, they thought it was an injustice. It might have been an injustice if it had happened in peacetime. Some of the things America did went too far, of course. We had many bitter experiences. But a hundred thousand people--people who came from different places--they put them together, and they could live together with their family.


M. Yamashita

When you got together with your family, your baby was two or three years old.


K. Yamashita

We had a house in Crystal City.


M. Yamashita

One house for one family?


K. Yamashita

Yes, every family had one house. We had an icebox just like this. (Points to a wooden box in the room)

We cooked what we liked. The houses weren't big but good enough to live in. There also was a special house for those who were expecting a baby. They took care of them before a delivery and after it. Crystal City camp was perfectly equipped.


M. Yamashita

What about the other camps?


K. Yamashita

I don't know much about them.


M. Yamashita

How about Santa Fe?


K. Yamashita

There were only men in Santa Fe and Lordsburg. We had only barracks. The beds were set side by side and there was a shelf for each person where we put our clothes and cigarettes.



26
M. Yamashita

Going back to Crystal City, did you get Japanese food from outside and cook it?


K. Yamashita

No, the food was given. We got tickets [scrip] and used them as money. If there were two adults in a family, they gave them just as much as two could live on, but nothing more than that. So we couldn't buy anything special.

Japanese farmers couldn't sit and just watch it [the barren soil], so they put gardens in front of their houses. They grew eggplants and cucumbers; so sometimes we had fresh cucumbers.


M. Yamashita

Did they give some of the food to others?


K. Yamashita

Yes, but not much. We could get most of our food at the canteen. They gave us tickets to buy clothes, too. There was a department-like store where they sold women's coats and stuff like that. Suppose the price was fifty dollars for one item, we couldn't buy it because we received just forty. In that case, we saved up and bought it the next month.


M. Yamashita

Was the Crystal City camp the last one you were put into? Did you come back here after that?


K. Yamashita

I went back to Japan after that, and I stayed there for ten years.


M. Yamashita

Did you go back right after you left the camp? Was it permitted without any trouble?


K. Yamashita

Not any trouble. They said there was a ship going to Japan and they could board us if we wished. So I went back free.


M. Yamashita

Did your family go back with you?


K. Yamashita

Of course, they did. I had something to do at my temple in Japan, so I went back. Mr. O'Rourke said, "There is no food and no fuel in Japan now, so you'd better not go back." He tried to stop us. When we were going back, he said, "It's cold in Japan now. I'll give you some blankets to take with you to Japan." So we took the blankets. They turned out to be very handy.


M. Yamashita

Did many Japanese go back by the same ship?


K. Yamashita

There were many.


M. Yamashita

Did the rest of them go back to where they used to live?


K. Yamashita

Most of them stayed at their acquaintances' house for awhile, but many came back to Los Angeles after that.


M. Yamashita

So you were in the camp for a total of four years. How do you feel about that in retrospect? Do you think the American government did an adequate thing?


K. Yamashita

I don't know whether they did an adequate thing or not, but I think that's all they could do. I see it that way. It might not have been the best way.


M. Yamashita

What did the other Japanese people who were there say about it?



27
K. Yamashita

There was no one who was always blue and complaining. They rather enjoyed themselves. There was nothing else we could do except to try to enjoy the life, in a way, don't you think? I guess you haven't had that experience. We had housing, enough food, enough time, and did what we wanted without worrying about going out to work. If we became ill, we could go to the hospital right away. Children could go to school. There was a good public school and good teachers in Crystal City. We didn't have to pay tuition for our kids. There were some Japanese who became No chant teachers. We had plenty of time to do what we liked. Some people became good in English. Some studied Buddhism and became well-acquainted with it. They knew better than the ministers did. (laughter) I was lazy so I didn't do anything, but one teacher made up a tanka [Japanese poetry] club. He told me to join the club. I hadn't composed a tanka before, but he pushed me to join them. So I joined them and wrote some tanka.


M. Yamashita

In which camp did you do that?


K. Yamashita

In Crystal City. Here is a collection of tanka I'll show you.


M. Yamashita

Were those tanka written by the people in the camp? Did you have all the printing facilities there? Did those people get started in the camp?


K. Yamashita

Yes, they got it started there. Dr. Motokazu Mori was a leader and he was a friend of Yanagihara Byakuren and Tsuchiaya Bunei [renowned poets of Japan]. Do you know about the New Year's poetry party at the Imperial Court?


M. Yamashita

Yes, the one held every year?


K. Yamashita

Some of their tanka were selected and they were invited to the party.


M. Yamashita

Were they the people in the camp?


K. Yamashita

Yes, they started to learn and kept making tanka after the war. Then they sent them to Japan and some of them were selected for the contest.


M. Yamashita

(Looking at the collection) This tanka describes the camp well. Can I take a look at this after this interview? Did many people practice kendo or the like? Did you have a gymnasium or a place where you could practice it?


K. Yamashita

Yes, we had. Boy scouts and girl scouts also used the place.


M. Yamashita

How did the Caucasian people, such as guards and others, spend their time?


K. Yamashita

They came from outside and went back after their work.


M. Yamashita

Didn't they play games or anything with you?


K. Yamashita

It wasn't permitted, so we didn't have that chance.


M. Yamashita

Did Christian missionary people come to see any internees?


K. Yamashita

They talked with them individually. They talked with the representatives of the people [internees]. They met each other in a special place. I recall one interesting story. We had much meat in the Crystal City camp. Japanese people don't eat much meat, so we left it. The watchmen [guards] and the sergeants found it, so we gave them the meat and they took it back home. America rationed the meat supply during


28
the time, so people didn't have enough of it. But we had plenty in the camp. After a couple days, a sergeant brought cake for us.


M. Yamashita

In return for the meat?


K. Yamashita

Yes. He said his wife made it.


M. Yamashita

I imagined there was a food shortage in the camp. So there wasn't any shortage there?


K. Yamashita

Not a shortage; we had too much. I'll tell you one story about what we did with the leftover food. At Crystal City they gave one quart of milk for each adult, and for each two children another quart.


M. Yamashita

Was that the supply for one day?


K. Yamashita

Yes, it was. The Japanese didn't drink much milk, so milk was left over. Japanese have tea and eat rice. We grew morning glories and ivy well because the weather was hot there. One day someone put milk on them. Then we received a notice that said, "Milk is not a good fertilizer for the plants." That's one story and the other is about the meat. We didn't have to keep such food because they gave us more the next day. So we threw it away.


M. Yamashita

It sounds like quite a waste.


K. Yamashita

Yes, indeed, but we had no choice but to throw it away since we couldn't eat it all. We were going to give it to our neighbor, but they also had too much. Then we threw it into a garbage can. People said the Japanese wasted meat, but we couldn't help it. Then the Japanese governor warned us not to waste such food.


M. Yamashita

Your baby had enough then?


K. Yamashita

We had enough baby food. We didn't have to worry about the kids. We had a good hospital, and a fair number of the Japanese doctors were working there. We were treated free. The doctors didn't have to make a profit, so they took good care of us. We were not pressed with time, so someone went to see them even if he had a slight headache.


M. Yamashita

Were all the doctors Japanese?


K. Yamashita

Yes. There were many Japanese, so, naturally, some of them were doctors. Mori, who I mentioned before, was a doctor, too. He was a good doctor. He had been a doctor of medicine in Japan as well. He has passed away now. He came from Honolulu. He was a fine person. Some of the people in Crystal City camp were from Peru.


M. Yamashita

How many people from Peru were there?


K. Yamashita

Many came from Peru. America put pressure on Peru to expel the Japanese. They expelled them from the country, and they came by ship to America. Then they arrested them as illegal aliens and put them into the camp.


M. Yamashita

I see. Were many Japanese born and raised in Peru?


K. Yamashita

Yes. Peru had a different culture. They had a Spanish culture.



29
M. Yamashita

Did you have any trouble with them in the camp because of their different customs?


K. Yamashita

No, we didn't. Japan's Ministry of Education had sent Japanese teachers to Peru, and they had a Japanese education before the war. The Japanese schools in Peru had a better education system than the ordinary public schools in Peru did. The teachers were also put into the camp. But the Japanese people from Peru seemed like they didn't know how to fry bacon. The kids spoke Spanish but they also spoke clear Japanese. They spoke Japanese more accurately than American Nisei, and they were more like Japanese.


M. Yamashita

Did the teachers who came from Peru teach Japanese in the camp?


K. Yamashita

Yes, they did.


M. Yamashita

Did the teachers teach only children from Peru or did they teach all the children?


K. Yamashita

They taught all the children. As a matter of fact, I taught one class of twenty kids who were from Peru. They were honest students. They reminded me of students in the old days. Not like today's students. (laughter) Postwar students are dishonest.


M. Yamashita

They don't listen to their teachers much?


K. Yamashita

Far from that, they don't look up to them as teachers. We didn't look on them as they do now.


M. Yamashita

Did the children from Hawaii also study Japanese?


K. Yamashita

Hawaiian kids spoke Japanese better than Nisei from the mainland, but Peruvian students were best.


M. Yamashita

So the teachers from different places got together and taught Japanese.


K. Yamashita

We had morning gatherings and swore [allegiance], "We are Japanese." Then we went to the class. When techo setsu [the emperor's birthday] came on April 29, we put up a Japanese flag and sang the Japanese anthem.


M. Yamashita

It sounds just like what they did in the old days.


K. Yamashita

Exactly. The teachers themselves were educated under the old school system. The head people of the administration office knew what we did but they didn't interfere with us. They were very generous.


M. Yamashita

So you didn't feel displeased with the administrators because of any tight surveillance or anything like that?


K. Yamashita

No. Nisei there said that the American teachers understood them better than their stubborn Issei teachers.


M. Yamashita

You said that when you went back to Japan, the people there thought you had experienced a hard time in the camp. Is that right?


K. Yamashita

They were surprised at my story.


M. Yamashita

You mean they thought you had a much harder time than you actually had?



30
K. Yamashita

Looking at our situation from the standpoint of the international law of war, we were not regarded as war prisoners, but semiprisoners of war. It said we should be treated the same as they treat the soldiers and sailors of an enemy country. Japan treated war prisoners right at the start of the war, but as conditions in the country got worse, they couldn't do anything but find food for themselves. Besides, the people were from an enemy country, so they would have been treated worse than those here who were citizens or residents.


M. Yamashita

Than you were treated in this country?


K. Yamashita

I didn't have any hard time at all. I would have something to say about our situation, judging it in terms of legal rights. But, thinking about the situation, I can't see that what they did to us was inhumane. I told them that when I went back to Japan.


M. Yamashita

Did many Japanese people ask you about it?


K. Yamashita

Yes, it was just about the time they wanted to know. So I was just like a television star. Everyone wanted me to talk about it.


M. Yamashita

In retrospect, what do you think about the camps and your internment?


K. Yamashita

In retrospect, I think I had more pleasant memories than unhappy ones. Does it sound strange if I say pleasant memories?


M. Yamashita

Well, considering what happened during the war . . .


K. Yamashita

Yes, but considering it was wartime, I spent a good time. It's true that at first I thought we might be killed and I worried about my family. But you worry about them if you are away from home even now, don't you? We just worried more about them. The life there was a healthy one and we weren't suppressed unfairly. There was no other way they could choose but to do that. I look at it this way.


M. Yamashita

Your family was left behind when you were first taken. Then they were sent to a relocation camp, and you couldn't get together there with them. What happened to your household goods? Who took care of them?


K. Yamashita

Yes, my family was detained, too. The rest of the Japanese of the West Coast went at about the same time. They were allowed to take a big suitcase with them, as much as they could carry. They weren't allowed to take more, so they left a lot of stuff. We had no choice but to leave it since everybody had to go. We left our stuff in our house and locked all the doors. But a burglar stole many things because no one was there. We didn't have much stuff, but the fishermen had ships and the farmers had big farms and tools. People took mean advantage of them and bought their stuff as cheap as dirt. So they might have a grudge against them. But we didn't have much stuff from the beginning. Having no treasure helped. (laughter) It's true all the fortune they had made, in some instances over a forty- or fifty-year period, was gone suddenly.


M. Yamashita

I imagine they were so shocked when they heard they were to be evacuated.


K. Yamashita

Yes, they were, indeed. After the war, many went back to where they had lived and started all over again. They led a better life than they had before the war. I think the Japanese people had guts.



31
M. Yamashita

They made a great effort.


K. Yamashita

Yes, it was the last major effort the Issei made. Fortunately, the Nisei grew up soon and Americans didn't treat them badly. They rather helped them. But people thought the Japanese did espionage.


M. Yamashita

Such a rumor spread?


K. Yamashita

I heard lots of rumors. They once told me, "You must be a spy." (laughter) As far as I know, among the Japanese, no one did such a thing.


M. Yamashita

Because America was the place to live for them?


K. Yamashita

Yes, they had come here to live. So they [Japanese residents] didn't commit sabotage or spy at all. I don't know whether there were any professional spies or not. Every country has some. As far as people like from Terminal Island are concerned, I don't think they did such a thing because they were fishermen. The Japanese who lived in America never did that. You can't blame us for loving Japan and wanting Japan to win the war. But somebody in camp said Japan would lose the war. He said that because he thought Japan couldn't win if it fought against America. He said that because he really thought that, not because he didn't like Japan. In a sense, the Japanese who lived in America were guileless. And the Japanese--the Issei--had guts to regain the strength they had before the war. But the number of those Issei is decreasing. Most of them have passed away.


M. Yamashita

They built a Japanese community.


K. Yamashita

They laid a foundation.


M. Yamashita

You have been very informative. Would you like to add anything to your thoughts?


K. Yamashita

I think the postwar generation in Japan have a different view from the prewar generation. Prewar Japanese, in a way, didn't know much about America. In the postwar period, the Japanese have had a chance to know about America and are told about America, but they don't know much about America. I think they don't know better than we did. The Japanese have a peculiar preference, including me, they care about brand names. Japan has a long history, but America is a young country. So they [in Japan] tend to neglect new things and values such as are in America. They snatch at famous French things or German. Tourists can visit America often, but they say nothing impresses them in America. I think they are making a mistake in what they say.

The watchmen [guards] and sergeant understood how we felt. They tried to avoid anything that might upset us. They were not trying to suppress us by force. They gave us sake on New Year's Day because they knew that's a special day for Japanese. They gave us blankets when we were going back to Japan. They said we could change our mind anytime and stay in America. Japanese tourists today don't understand that aspect. They say, "Disneyland is great," or "America is large." Everybody in Japan knows that. They say Americans dress untidily and look sloppy. But I wish they could see that American people think much of others. They [the postwar generation] overlook the best in the American people in spite of their frequent visits to America. That's what I think.



32
M. Yamashita

I see. On behalf of the California State University, Fullerton, Oral History Program, Japanese American Project, I thank you for your frank expressions of your ideas.


K. Yamashita

You are welcome.


Notes

1. See Michi Weglyn and Betty E. Mitson, eds., Valiant Odyssey: Herbert Nicholson in and out of America's Concentration Camps (Upland, Calif.: Brunk's Printing, 1978).

2. According to one study, the Crystal City "camp commander was requested by a Japanese spokesman to assist in the purchase of a quantity of sake for internees. They had learned of a supply which a West Coast dealer had stored at the beginning of the war and hoped to obtain some to be used for celebrations." See Warren P. Rucker, "United States-Peruvian Policy Toward Peruvian Japanese Persons during World War II" (M.A. thesis, University of Virginia, 1970), 50.


33

Index

  • Bunei, Tsuchiaya, 27
  • Byakuren, Yanagihara, 27
  • Crystal City, TX
    • internment camp, 23, 24, 25, 27, 28
    • see also Internees
  • Espionage, 31
  • FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), 17, 18, 19
  • Heart Mountain, WY
    • Relocation Center, 24
    • see also Internees
  • Internees, 26
    • alcohol obtained by, 23
    • cultural activities, 22-23, 27
    • food, 22, 23, 26, 27-28
    • gardens, 26
    • Hawaiian Japanese, 29
    • household goods, 30
    • medical care, 27, 28
    • ministers, 21
    • organization, 21
    • Peruvian Japanese, 28-29
    • relations with Caucasians, 22, 26, 27-28, 29
    • repatriation, 30-31
    • resettlement, 30-31
    • rumors among, 21
  • Issei, 25, 31
  • Japan
    • Ministry of Education, 29
    • treatment of POWs, 30
  • Japanese Buddhist Church Federation, 6-7
  • Kibei, 25
  • Kim, Mr., 20
  • Lordsburg, NM
    • internment camp, 22, 23, 26
    • riot, 24, 25
    • see also Internees
  • Manzanar, CA
    • Relocation Center, 25
    • see also Internees
  • Mitsuru, Toyama, 20
  • Mori, Motokaku, 27, 30
  • Mukaeda, Katsuma, 19
  • Newell, CA
    • Tule Lake Segregation Center, 26
    • see also Internees
  • Nicholson, Herbert, 21
  • Nisei, 25, 29
  • O'Rourke, Joseph, 23, 26
  • Sansei, 25
  • Santa Fe, NM
    • internment camp, 19-22, 23, 24, 27
    • see also Internees
  • Sugimachi, Yaemitsu, 24
  • Tujunga, CA
    • detention camp, 20
  • Tule Lake Segregation Center, see Newell, CA
  • [Valiant Odyssey] (Nicholson), 21
  • World War II
    • Pearl Harbor attack, 18-19
  • Yamashita, Kenko
    • activities as a minister, 22, 24
    • arrest by FBI, 19-20
    • attitude toward internment, 25-26, 27-28, 31
    • birth, 17
    • child, 19
    • hearing at Santa Fe, 20
    • internment at, see specific camps
    • rehearing at Lordsburg, 23
    • return to Japan, 26, 29-30
    • wife, 19, 23
  • Zensuji Temple, 17, 19

An Interview with
Amy Uno Ishii
Conducted by Betty E. Mitson and Kristin Mitchell
on July 9 and July 20, 1973
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Japanese American Evacuation
O.H. 1342

©1978
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


39

Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     Amy Uno Ishii
  • Interviewer:
  •     Betty E. Mitson and Kristin Mitchell
  • Subject:
  •     Japanese American Evacuation
  • Date:
  •     July 9 and July 20, 1973
Mitson

This is an interview with Mrs. Amy Uno Ishii by Betty E. Mitson for the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Project at the CSUF campus on July 9, 1973 at 11:20 a.m. [The interview is continued by Kristin Mitchell in Mrs. Ishii's home at 1801 North Dillon Street, Los Angeles, California, on July 20, 1973 at 1:40 p.m.]

Mrs. Ishii, where and when were you born?


Ishii

I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, on December 11, 1920. I'm the fifth of ten children.


Mitson

Oh, right in the middle.


Ishii

Yes.


Mitson

Why were your parents in Salt Lake City at the time?


Ishii

Well, it's very difficult to explain why my parents moved from California to Salt Lake City. First, I have to explain the following: when my parents left Japan; their reason for immigrating to America; where they were married; where they started their family; and how I happened to be the fifth born in Salt Lake City.


Mitson

Well, would you mind going through that?


Ishii

I think we have to go way back.


Mitson

Okay.


Ishii

My father and mother were both born and raised in Japan. My father was born in Sendai, which, I believe, is in northern Japan. My


40
mother was born and raised in the town of Kanazawa. I've never been there, so I couldn't tell you where it is. Both my mother and father were raised in their home villages by American missionary schools.

My father was either number eight or nine of fourteen children. All the members of his family were very healthy except my father. He was like the runt of the group--pleurisy, tuberculosis, you name it, he had it as a child. This was one of the reasons they had him in a missionary school, so they could watch him very closely.

During the time my father was attending the missionary school, the Sweet Eagle brand of condensed milk was just being made by Borden Dairy in the United States. It was shipped to Japan through the missionaries to give to sickly children. My father always maintained that this is what saved his life and enabled him to grow to full manhood. Anyhow, he grew up.

Since my father and mother were raised in missionary schools, they had the advantage of hearing and learning some English language. Therefore, it gave them an interest in going to America.


Mitson

Were they at the school full time, or was it a day school?


Ishii

It was like a day school.


Mitson

Was it interdenominational?


Ishii

My father was in a full-time boarding type of school and was being cared for by the missionaries. My mother commuted everyday. I think my father's school was interdenominational because they had Catholics, Buddhists, and Protestants there.

My parents were raised as Christians. They met a lot of hardship and discrimination in Japan because of the fact that they were Christians. In those days, the 1800s, very few Japanese people were Christians; there were more Buddhists.


Mitson

Did your parents cite for you any examples of discrimination, or did they simply refer to it as a general condition?


Ishii

No, it wasn't just commented about in a general way. My father has written his life story for me. In it he brings out certain instances where he was chased and beaten by children in the neighborhood because he was a Christian or because he was from a Christian family. He also gives other very specific instances where he was discriminated against because he was Christian.

In those days there were strong differences between people: Christians were known to be radicals--or what we call radicals and militants today--because Christianity came from the white man. It didn't originate in Japan or Asia, so it wasn't handed down from generation to generation as Buddhism had been.


41

My father's family became Christians way back. He was from a military family to begin with--falconers, if you know what a falconer is. My father's father, my grandfather, was a general in the Russo-Japanese War.


Mitson

Would falconer be a samurai family that used falcons?


Ishii

Yes, exactly.

At any rate, by the time my father's generation came along, the same thing happened to them that is happening now to us Nisei with our Sansei and Yonsei children: a breaking apart of family traditions and splitting up of ideas; getting away from your cultural heritage and going on your own, more or less, and becoming very independent. This is what was happening in Japan at that time, in the late 1800s, when America had opened its doors to the Asians--the Japanese, specifically.

The Chinese came to this country years before the Japanese had arrived here. Of course, I think most people understand the reason why the Chinese were brought here from China: to be used as "cheap coolie labor." The same thing was true with the Japanese.

Many Japanese people were starting to come to America and giving up Japan as their home. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that Japan is such a small country with overpopulation--people had to expand and go some place--at the time, one of the places open to them was America. My father explained to us that by 1906--when he came to America by way of Seattle, on the slow boat--quite a few Japanese had already arrived here and were pretty much settled in.


Mitson

Do you know what catapulted him into making the move? Do you know if he was recruited as part of a labor gang?


Ishii

Yes and no. He did work as a part of a labor gang on the Great Northern Railway. But he was, more or less, encouraged to come to America by the missionaries. You see, they had told him: "America is the land of the free and the home of the brave," that "the money grows on the orange trees in your backyard," and that "the land is vast, not like Japan." They told him: "With your intellect, your knowledge of history, and your ability in handling the English language"--even to the degree that he did at that time, which, I guess, was considered quite a bit--"you will go far in America. So go to America, go to America. It will be good for your health. Healthwise, climatewise, you can't beat America for building your body up."


Mitson

Are you saying your father actually learned some English in the missionary school, and was familiar with it when he immigrated to America?


Ishii

Oh, yes. He was nineteen years old when he came. When you're raised in a missionary school from the time you're four and a half years old, there's no excuse for not learning some of the English language. So


42
he had the advantage of learning a lot of English while he was cared for in the missionary home or school, as they called it.

When he came to America, he had the advantage of being one of the very few Issei--first-generation Japanese immigrants who came to this country--with a running knowledge of the English language. He "made it" very fast in this country.

He arrived here in 1906 and worked on the railroad gang from Washington through Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Nevada, back into California, south to Arizona, across and through New Mexico, and all the way through Texas and Louisiana. They really worked a lot of railroad. The reason why my father traveled extensively with the railroad was the fact that he knew the English language. They made him foreman immediately, because the boss could tell my father what to say to the people who were to do the hammering and the pounding on the railroad ties; he would, then, translate from English to Japanese the instructions for the laborers. He had this advantage in knowing the English language. Of course, later on in his life the English language became a bitter enemy to my father as it was turned against him. But during the years he was raising our family, it was very advantageous to him and also to my mother.


Mitson

I'd like to ask you one thing before we go on any further. In respect to the circumstances of his immigration, did he ever go into detail as to whether or not he was recruited in Japan to emigrate, or had he come into the United States illegally? Did he ever tell you about taking the boat or how he got financing to take the boat?


Ishii

I'm sure he has described it to me in his writings. I have pages and pages of manuscript that he's written to me, and it's just a matter of deciphering all of it and typing it up. I've had it put away for many, many years. I've reread it time and again, but sometimes things don't stick--the important things, especially dates and numbers and things like that. So I really couldn't tell you whether his immigrating to America was through recruitment by the railroads, invitation of the government, or encouragement by the relatives. He already had an older sister, who was married and living in Oakland, California, and doing very well, over here in America. His older sister's husband was doing very well; he had an established business.


Mitson

Do you know when his older sister came here?


Ishii

She came in the 1800s. I have the complete autobiography of my Uncle Dōmoto, who owned the North American Mercantile Company in San Francisco. Their home was in Oakland, but the company was in San Francisco.

Many years ago, Time magazine ran pictures of my uncle and aunt: their life history, the story of their immigration to the United States and the building up of this large import-export company. In fact, he was the first Japanese person to get a patent in the United


43
States for his method of canning fish. They canned crab, lobster, tuna, sardines, and things like that.

They called their company the North American Mercantile Company, but they cut it to NAMCO so it would fit on a label to be put on these small, flat cans. NAMCO is just a combination of the initials of the company name, a trade name. They were one of the very biggest import-export businesses in the United States, right up until the outbreak of the war.


Mitson

Do you mean the First or the Second World War?


Ishii

Before World War II. This was all developed shortly after World War I. I think it was after World War I when my uncle developed this method and got his patent. Later on, my father left the railroads to work for this uncle in San Francisco; he lived in Oakland with them in their big home. They had a huge mansion that could accommodate many, many people. Remember, this was back in the early 1900s--about 1910 or 1912--and for a Japanese to be able to live in a great, big, whole-block mansion was really something. The house had special floors, mosaic-patterned hardwood.


Mitson

Oh, parquet floors.


Ishii

Yes, beautiful, beautiful floors, marble counters . . . the whole thing, you know. They had tennis courts, volleyball courts, and a swimming pool in their own yard for their children. Their children couldn't go swimming in public swimming pools, play tennis on public tennis courts, and so on, so Uncle said, "Who needs it? We'll build our own." They built everything themselves. As workers were needed from Japan, they sent for relatives. This is how my father's younger brothers were brought from Japan, after my father had arrived here.


Mitson

Did all fourteen eventually come?


Ishii

No. Five under my father came; approximately four above my father came. More than half of his family came from Japan to America. Most of the ones that were recruited to work came from the Dōmoto side of the family. There were not as many on the Uno side of the family; they also didn't get as high in positions in my uncle's company. But my father worked there for quite a few years. In fact, he was working for Uncle Dōmoto in 1911, when he was able to call for my mother in Japan. They were married in Alameda, California, on October 30, 1911. My two older brothers, Buddy and Howard, were born in Richmond, California, where my folks had been living.


Mitson

Under what circumstances did your mother and father meet and marry? Had he met her before he left Japan?


Ishii

Yes, they were childhood sweethearts; neighbors for many years. My mother also came from a very strong Christian family, so the ties were very close. When my father came to America to make this his


44
new home, my mother expressed a desire to come. If it was possible for her to come later and marry him, and also to make her home here, she would like it that way. This was her thinking at the time. So, my father, more or less, promised that if he made enough money and could send for her, she would come to America.

Around that time, many of the men who were working on the railroads were saving their money and sending for what was called "picture brides" to come from Japan. My mother was not one of these. This is one thing my parents were very, very happy and proud of. They always told us, "Ours was not what you call a `picture bride' marriage. We were very well-known to each other; our families were well-known to each other; and we were childhood sweethearts." So their life together was a very happy one.

The happiness of my parents was proven to us many times. Although we didn't have material things to make us happy when we were growing up, like a lot of other people who were able to have the most modern up-to-date things, my mother always said, "We don't have a lot of money and we don't have the material things other people have, but I know one thing--we are very rich in happiness and contentment because we have our children. Later on, the years will be nothing but happiness and contentment for us; the material things will come later. God will take care of things. If we can raise these children so they're old enough to be on their own, then our happiness and contentment and material things will come later." This was the way my mother and father started their lives. They were very, very much in love. My parents never held back any punches as far as talking to us children. The only time my parents used the Japanese language in our home was when they had secrets to tell each other. We would say, "Ah, something's cooking someplace!" Sometimes, Dad used Japanese when he was very upset with one of the children--especially myself, because I was the black sheep of the family. If I got in a fight with one of the kids in the neighborhood and left somebody with a bloody nose--and we knew that the parents were coming over to tell on me--then my dad would say something very harshly in Japanese to my mother. He would say something to the effect of, "Amy should be reprimanded." I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was very upset or angry. But other than that, they never used the Japanese language.

We were raised in the true American way of living. People used to envy us because, although we lived in many Japanese communities, we always said, "Mom and Dad." Everybody else was saying, "Oto-san, Oka-san" or "Mama and Papa." We never used those expressions. It was always "Mother and Father" or "Mom and Dad." We could speak so much English in our home without using any Japanese.

Sometimes, I think it was a setback not to know any Japanese, because one of the things we, my mother and I, have always been sorry about is that we didn't have enough money to send the children to Japanese school--to learn Japanese cultural things, like flower arranging for the girls and judo for the boys--like most of the


45
Japanese families were doing. But my father always used to say, "That's not necessary. That doesn't make a good American. We must be Americans. This is our adopted home."

I remember very strongly that my parents said many times: "If we had been allowed the privilege of taking out naturalization papers and becoming American citizens as people from Europe were allowed to do--this was in the early 1900s--we would have been the first in line. We would have been the very first Japanese people to be American citizens because of our knowledge of the English language." My mother would have no problem taking the test and answering, "The sixteenth president of the United States was Abraham Lincoln." The two of them studied and wanted very much for America to be their home; they wanted their children to be full-fledged Americans. I'm sure, if they had been given the privilege of becoming American citizens, they really would have been the very first Japanese to be citizens of this country!


Mitson

Was your mother from the same kind of family as your father, a samurai family?


Ishii

No, my mother wasn't from a military family. I really know very little about my mother's family, other than the fact that she also came from a fairly large family. I believe there were eight in her family. My mother died in January of 1949, of a heart attack, while visiting a very ill friend of ours in the hospital. My girl friend called to say, "My mother is now able to have visitors at the hospital, and she would love to have your mother visit her." We told Mother to get ready so she could go to visit this friend in the hospital. Five minutes after she arrived at the bedside of her friend, she toppled over and died of a heart attack--it was that simple.


Mitson

How old was your mother?


Ishii

She was fifty-nine years old. It happened on January 18, 1949, and on January 30 my mother would have been sixty years old.


Mitson

Is your father also deceased?


Ishii

Yes. My father died on Christmas day, 1965, also of a heart problem. He had an aneurism, which is known as a form of heart disease. We have heart problems on both sides of the family--we weren't aware of this until after both of my parents had died. Three of my brothers also died of heart conditions. Two of my brothers, that are living today, have had very severe heart attacks; I myself have had several heart attacks and am under the intensive care of a team of doctors. This is also a part of my history.

Now, to go back to where my father and mother were married in California, and the two older sons were born in the Bay Area . . . Just before World War I, my parents decided to go to Salt Lake City where we had other relatives, who owned a dry goods store. They told us,


46
"Salt Lake is a good place to live, so why don't you come out to Salt Lake?"

Meanwhile, my father, who was very artistic, had learned to be a floral designer. He had learned floral designing from an Italian flower shopkeeper in the Ferry Building in San Francisco. This is where he used to get off the ferry every day when he returned from work at my uncle's canning factory. He was always attracted to these beautiful flowers. He would stop--even if he didn't have much money--long enough to pick up a small bouquet of flowers to take home to Mother. The shopkeeper saw how much my father appreciated and enjoyed flowers; just from talking to him, he knew my dad had a very artistic eye. He said, "Why don't you learn to become a florist? I think you would do well around flowers." My father said, "You teach me, and I will." The man was very serious, so he taught my dad. All his spare time was spent at this little flower stand, where my father learned to make beautiful bouquets and corsages.

With the little knowledge he had of flowers, he was brave enough to write letters to Salt Lake City to ask the Mormon Tabernacle if they could use a Japanese florist. They replied that they would be happy to have him. My father, mother and the two boys packed up and moved to Salt Lake City. He took care of all the bouquets and all of the flowers in the tabernacle; in all of the various offices of the officials of the church, the foyers, and everywhere else in the tabernacle he arranged the flowers. He said the tabernacle was a vast place that required a lot of flowers--the Mormon people believed very strongly in live flowers. This was a very wonderful livelihood for my father. And this is why my family moved to Salt Lake City.


Mitson

This is very interesting. Since people of Japanese heritage are known for their flower arranging, I wonder, did he concentrate more on the Japanese art of flower arranging than the Western style?


Ishii

He did both. In fact, we still have many of the trophies my father won in various international, national, statewide, county and citywide floral arranging contests put on by the United Floral Association. My father had the most elaborate and unique floral arrangements. He always won something--a trophy, gift certificate or commendation of some sort. He was very happy and very proud of it.


Mitson

Did he pursue this right through the [Great] Depression?


Ishii

Yes, through the Depression he was a florist; right up until the time he developed a bad case of the flu. There was a flu virus going around after World War I.

My brother Buddy was born in 1913; my brother Howard in 1915--so, around 1916 or 1917 my parents moved to Salt Lake City. In 1918 my sister Hana was born; in 1919 my sister Mae; in 1920 I was born; in 1922 my brother Stanley was born; and in 1924 my brother Ernie was born. It wasn't until after Ernie was born--we had seven children in our family at this point--that my parents decided that Salt


47
Lake City was no place to raise a family, because of the extreme changes of climate. They decided to move back to California and settle in Los Angeles.


Mitson

What year was this?


Ishii

It was in 1926, before the Depression. My father was still a florist at the time. A few years after we came back to California, my father was working in a flower shop, on the corner of Beverly Boulevard and Western Avenue, called the Pacific Rose Company. It was owned and operated by Mr. Nishi, who now owns the Pacific Rose Company in West Los Angeles which consists of acres and acres of nursery land. His son is carrying on the nursery business.

My father worked in the flower shop section of this place until he became very ill. When the doctor examined him, he saw all the scar tissue in his lungs and said, "Look, Mr. Uno, you've had pleurisy and tuberculosis as a youngster. Around flowers you're exposed to dampness which is not good for you. If you want to live to see your children grow up, you must get out of the flower business and into a line of work that will take you outdoors, into the sun. You have to regain your health." For a few years, my father was a traveling salesman, which took him outdoors. But being a traveling salesman also kept him away from home a lot. He would take runs on the Southern Pacific train. These were in the years before the jet age, so travel was either by slow train or automobile. He traveled up and down the West Coast; he visited the various Japanese communities and took orders for custom-made men's suits. I can't remember the name of the company that he worked for. He would go to the farmers and merchants in all these small towns like Santa Maria, Guadalupe, Pismo Beach, Monterey where there were Japanese settlements. He would measure these men and have a suit of clothes made for them. This was good for him, and he enjoyed the work. It brought him in touch with a lot of people; he really enjoyed being a salesman.


Mitson

Did he work directly for the manufacturer?


Ishii

Yes, absolutely.


Mitson

Did he carry around a big case?


Ishii

Yes, he carried this big black suitcase with the various swatches of materials--in those days it was strictly wool, no synthetics--and the samples of ready-made suits available in small sizes. It was quite a big ordeal. In his other briefcase, he carried all his book-keeping material. There was a file on each person with all the measurements.

I was a very little girl at the time, but I remember my dad going on these little trips up and down the West Coast and then coming home. My brother Robert was born in Los Angeles, as was my brother Edison and my baby sister Kay. This gave us ten children in all.



48
Mitson

Do you recall if your father was able to make a fairly good living? Was your family able to get along reasonably well during the Depression?


Ishii

What were the Depression years?


Mitson

The Depression was really bad from 1932 to 1933 and then there was a slippage back around 1936 to 1938. But it really wasn't until the war started that we pulled out of it.


Ishii

Yes. We had barely recovered from World War I when the Depression came along. I remember, because in 1932 the Olympic Games were held in Los Angeles; my baby sister was born then--number ten of our family. We said to Mother and Dad, "We hope it's the last," and it was, thank goodness. I think my parents decided that they could still have a lot of compassion between them without having any more children. (laughter) We've always been ashamed of the fact that there were ten children in our family, because we've been made to feel ashamed. People ask, "How many brothers and sisters do you have?" And I'm sorry that I have to say, "I have nine brothers and sisters." But remember, this happened in the days before contraceptives. My parents didn't know these things could be prevented.

My mother's big excuse has always been that when she was raised in a missionary school, they told her, "A woman is only as good as the number of children she can produce." (laughter) Just like a cow is only as good as how much milk it can produce.

In those days it was nothing to see a family with six to eight children, but ten or twelve children was going a little too far. We had many friends with ten children. Somehow, it has always been a sore spot with me; we had such a hard time because of the large family. If my mother could have stopped when she had my older sister and not had me and the five below me, I think they would have been much better off. Today, we marvel at how beautifully my parents came through those Depression years, as well as the aftermath of World War I. Many times, my sister and I marvel at how my mother was able to feed all ten of us.


Mitson

Do you ever remember going without food?


Ishii

Well, many times we had to go to neighbors to have them help us out, but we never went without food. We have always been grateful to the Salvation Army, who came to our aid when no one else would.

I remember that, from the time of my grammar school days on through my junior high school period, my mother was invited by the Salvation Army to go to their Fresh Air Camp. It was two weeks out at Redondo Beach, where only the mothers and children could come and spend two weeks, all expenses paid. Everything was cared for. You lived family style in dormitories. You'd go to the dining room to eat--where you had to dress properly for meals. After dinner, you would sing at


49
worship services. We had worship services in the mornings, then crafts, then to the beach. The older girls would help in the kitchen--set tables and wait the tables. The boys would do the dish-washing.


Mitson

Was the racial situation mixed?


Ishii

No, this was the Japanese contingent. They had two weeks for each minority: blacks, Japanese, Chinese or other Asians, Mexicans, and whites. All the help was Caucasian--the counselors, cooks and everybody. It was run by Caucasians. Let's face it, the Salvation Army was all Caucasian! (laughter) There was a contingent called the Japanese Salvation Army in San Francisco, Sacramento, Los Angeles, and, I think, Fresno. We became familiar with the one in Los Angeles. Friends of ours became Salvationists, and it was through their gracious help that we were invited. They took the poorer families--families who couldn't afford the luxuries of sending their children off to a YMCA, Boy Scout or Girl Scout camp.

My two older sisters were very quiet, bashful, reserved young ladies, and very proper. I was real gung-ho, the black sheep of the family, and I ran with the boys. It was unthought of for girls to ride on a two-wheel bicycle; but I was riding a bicycle before I was ten years old. I was roller-skating on public streets with all the boys in the neighborhood. We grew up at Evergreen playground, in East Los Angeles, and I remember that time as being the best years of my life. I had freedom, while other girls in the neighborhood would watch me from their windows and say, "Look, Amy can run out there and play with all the boys." I knew all the Indian, Mexican and black kids in the neighborhood, and they all knew me.


Mitson

Did your parents give you more freedom than the rest of the children?


Ishii

Well, I was given freedom because I was the overseer for my four little brothers. I fought all of their battles for them as they were growing up--all the way through high school. I watched over them. When some-body was picking on my little brother Stanley, the kids would run over and say, "Hey, Amy, somebody's picking on Stanley." And I'd say, "Just show me who it is." Then I'd go over and beat him up. I really would! Many times I took the boy's pants off and hung them up on the fence. He'd have to walk home without them, or else climb the fence to get them. (laughter) I used to protect my younger brothers; I thought it was all part of growing up.

I was twelve years old when I finally left home. But it was a different way of leaving home. I sat down and talked to my mother and said, "Look, this is 1932 and I'm in junior high school now, the seventh grade. You're having a hard time feeding all these mouths, putting shoes on the feet, and putting patch upon patch on the clothes, so would it help any if I moved out of the house and worked as a domestic, or as a schoolgirl?" We used to call it schoolgirl work. "If I worked in a home and went to school away from here, I would come and


50
see you on my days off." Tears just rolled down my mother's cheeks and she said, "It would really help. If it's one less mouth to feed, one less person to have to clothe and worry about, it would help so much." So I said, "Then I will look for a job."


Mitson

I would like a little later in the interview to review your school-girl experience at some length, but first I want to talk a bit more about your family.

Your one brother, Edison, has an interesting name. Is there any family story connected to it?


Ishii

Well, Edison was born October 18, which is supposedly Thomas Edison's birthday, or something like that.


Mitson

Is there any background behind the other childrens' names?


Ishii

The girls' names were Hana, Mae, Amy, and Kay. Hana comes from the Japanese word hanako, which means "flower." Meiko is the Japanese name for Mae. Mine is Emiko. My little sister Kay is actually Keiko in Japanese. We Anglicized our names, so we wouldn't have two names. Why have an English and a Japanese name? We said, "Ah! Let's make them all simple." So we called ourselves Hana, Mae, Amy and Kay. We changed Mei to Mae, and I changed Emi to Amy--which is much simpler and more American. My little sister decided to change hers from Kei to Kay. We just dropped the "ko," which designates a girl. A girl's name always ends with a "ko."

Now, for the boys in our family. There was George, who we always called Buddy, a pen name for him, he was a journalist. But he was always George, Junior, after my father. All of the boys, George, Howard, Stanley, Ernest, Robert and Edison, had typical American names, but they also had Japanese names. All Japanese boys must have Japanese names, according to Japanese custom. My father's name is George Kumemaro Uno. The "maro" is part of the family name; it's to carry on the samurai tradition from his side of the family. My father said that all the boys in the family must have "maro" in their names as he had in his: the first was Kazumaro--kazu means "first born son," and that was Buddy; the second was Yasumaro, Howard; then Toshimaro, which is Stanley; Nobumaro, Ernest; Akimaro, Robert; and the last one, Tomimaro, Edison. The six boys had six American names and six Japanese names, which have stuck with the boys. They used their Japanese names because this is traditional.

In interviewing or talking to a lot of Japanese people, you will find most of the boys have a Japanese name; in most cases, the girls also have a Japanese name. But, in our family we said, "We're so American, the girls don't need Japanese names." So we just dropped our Japanese names. However, when older people talk to us, they always call us by our Japanese names, because they automatically know Amy is for Emiko; Mae is for Meiko; and Hana is for Hanako.


Mitson

It was quite traditional to register births in both Japan and the


51
United States. Do you know if each of you children were registered in both places?


Ishii

In our family there was no such thing as dual citizenship. You're talking about Japanese people who were married in Japan and came here; or people who married here but had children born in America and registered in Japan.


Mitson

Yes.


Ishii

Well, this was done by many families, but just to keep family genealogy, the family tree, in order and up-to-date. Actually, their birth is not registered as a citizenship-type of birth in Japan.


Mitson

So, it was only registered in the family records.


Ishii

Yes. Our family didn't feel that it was necessary. My father and mother said, "We're Americans. We came to America. We were married here and this is where we're having our children. We hope to die here, not in Japan."


Mitson

They never intended to go back to Japan?


Ishii

Oh, no, they didn't want to go back. When they came to America, they were cutting off all ties with Japan. This included not registering the births of their children in Japan. We were never registered in Japan; all of us are registered here, in the United States of America, and nowhere else.


Mitson

So you never had to go through and eliminate any records?


Ishii

No.


Mitson

Does your birth certificate show your Japanese name?


Ishii

Yes.


Mitson

Do you use Amy as your legal name?


Ishii

Oh, yes.


Mitson

Is the name Amy actually on your birth certificate, or is Emiko on there?


Ishii

It's on there as Amy. We had all of our birth certificates revised. We dropped our Japanese names and had them changed to the way we wanted our names to appear on the records. This happened at the time of the war.


Mitson

When?


Ishii

When we registered at the outbreak of World War II. It was necessary


52
to have our birth certificates to prove whether or not we were born and raised in this country. My parents wrote to Salt Lake City for five of our birth certificates and to Sacramento for the five births registered in California. In those days, people were registered only in the state capitols, not in the cities of their birth. Now you can go to the Hall of Records and dig up your children's birth certificates. In any event, for fifty cents it was then possible to have the state send you a copy of your birth certificate, so we sent immediately for birth certificates for the five born in Salt Lake City. By this time, my father had already been taken away by the FBI. I remember one of the last things my dad said to my mother was, "Send for the children's birth certificates. Change all their names to American names. Drop the Japanese names." So my mother wrote to Salt Lake City, "I am hereby requesting five birth certificates. They are under such and such names. Would you please issue them under such and such names in place of them?"


Mitson

So she didn't have to go through any court proceedings?


Ishii

No, none whatsoever. Our birth certificates were issued posthaste, because we needed them for emergency purposes--security purposes.


Mitson

Yes, at the time you didn't know what you might run into.


Ishii

We didn't know whether they were going to deport all the Japanese people, drown us, or shove us into a hole. We really didn't know what they were going to do with all the Japanese people.


Mitson

Mrs. Ishii, I think we will bring this interviewing session to a close now. Naturally, you have only related a portion of your fascinating life story, so we will want to continue the interview at a later time. Would this arrangement be acceptable to you?


Ishii

Oh, certainly. I look forward to the opportunity.


Mitchell

[July 20, 1973. This portion of the interview is conducted by Kristin Mitchell.] Mrs. Ishii, during your interviewing session with Betty Mitson, you indicated that as a young girl you left home to do schoolgirl labor, returning only on weekends to see your family. I was wondering if you could amplify on this period of your life. What exactly is meant by the term "schoolgirl labor"?


Ishii

Well, this same type of work is now categorized as "domestic." Actually, what I did was move out of my home and moved in with a Caucasian family and became their domestic help. You become the chief cook and bottle washer, baby-tender and baby-sitter. If they don't have a gardener, you're the gardener, and all these various chores you have to do if you're going to earn your keep. I first went out to work when I was twelve years old. We were really having a very, very difficult time at home because of the family being so large. It was hard for my mother to meet expenses, pay the bills--utilities, rent, et cetera--and keep food on the table, let


53
alone put clothes on the backs of the children. It was like putting patch on top of patch on your clothes and taking shoes to the shoe repair shop. I mean, who thinks of taking shoes to the shoe repair shop these days? But back in those days these are the kinds of things we had to do. I decided, after talking to my mother, that one person less in the family would alleviate a lot of the hardships. So I went to work for this family doing household chores for eight dollars a month.


Mitchell

Did you continue going to school at the same time?


Ishii

Oh,yes. I used to take the streetcar to school. I would get up at five in the morning, clean a certain area of the house, prepare breakfast, pack a lunch for myself, do the laundry and hang it on the line, and then run like crazy to catch the streetcar at a certain time. At the time I was working in Leimert Park and going to John Adams Junior High School over on Main and Thirtieth Street. I had to commute by streetcar to my own school rather than transfer to Audubon Junior High School, which was located in the Leimert Park area.


Mitchell

Why was that?


Ishii

In those days they didn't have Japanese in those schools. So you used your own home address, which meant that you went to the school of that area; you couldn't use your employer's address. It was a little bit complicated.

In those days I never thought much about discrimination and segregation as far as schools went. I didn't realize until I was in high school that, "Wow! This was all happening to me, and I hadn't been aware of it." I commuted for about two and a half years.


Mitchell

What period was this?


Ishii

It was 1932.

Anyhow, I did this work. I used to put in a full day of school, then dash back to the house and start my household chores. This entailed cleaning up the rest of the house that I didn't get in the morning. Then I would prepare and serve dinner to the family and eat by myself in the kitchen. After dinner, everybody goes off to the living room, and I would spend the rest of the evening in the kitchen cleaning up. Usually I would have to do ironing and mop up some place in the house that needed to be done, so it was generally about ten o'clock before I was through.


Mitchell

You did this for eight dollars a month?


Ishii

Yes. And then from that time until the time I went to bed I had to study. So I was getting very little sleep in those days, and I


54
think it got to be a habit because even now I require very little sleep.


Mitchell

You worked for this one family for two and a half years?


Ishii

Yes. Then I changed over to a place where they paid me twelve dollars a month, and I had three little girls to take care of. In the first place that I had worked, they had just one little child and she was pre-school. But the second place that I moved to was in the Wilshire area--a much more high class area. They had three little girls who were in first grade through fifth, I think. At that place it was a little easier, because I didn't have to do the heavy work like scrubbing down walls and woodwork, waxing and stripping floors, and doing windows--outside and in. This was a very large two-story Spanish style house. Each one of the children had their own bedroom, plus the master bedroom for the mister and the missus, a rumpus room, a family room, a living room, a formal dining room, and a breakfast room. I did a lot of the housework, but they had a Negro woman come in once a week to do the heavy work. They had another woman who came in once a week to do all the heavy laundry: linens--table linens, bed linens--and towels. So I was, more or less, hired to just take care of the everyday needs of the children.


Mitchell

During this period, did you see your family? Did you give part of your salary to them?


Ishii

Oh, yes. On my first job, where I was getting eight dollars a month, I gave five to my mother. And in those days five dollars went a long way.

With the remaining three dollars I would buy a streetcar book--a book of tickets--which gave me a discounted rate on the streetcar. I would also buy personal things like toothpaste, soap and things that I couldn't take from the family I was employed by. If I had any left over, I'd always share it with my little brothers and sister by treating them to a matinee or something like that.

When I moved to the Wilshire area and worked for twelve dollars a month, I was able to give my mother much more. I did this for many years, from the time I was in the seventh grade in junior high school until the time that I went to city college, two years of city college.


Mitchell

What year was this?


Ishii

This took me right up through January 1942.


Mitchell

You mentioned earlier in the interview that your father was a salesman. Could you tell me something about your father's experiences traveling and something about his experience when the war broke out? I understand that he was sent to several different internment


55
centers.


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

Do you know why he was singled out?


Ishii

Because of his vast knowledge of the English language. He was a self-educated, self-taught person. He never went to school here in America. He only went to missionary school in Japan, and I think he only went through the eighth or ninth grade. He never made it through high school because he was always a very sickly person. Yet when he came to this country, he taught himself the English language. He could read, write, and speak it fluently. Our friends used to be jealous of us because both my mother and father could speak English. We never spoke Japanese in the home. And we children never learned the Japanese language ourselves.


Mitchell

Did your father feel that his job of traveling had anything to do with his being singled out after Pearl Harbor by the Department of Justice?


Ishii

I don't think so. How would the FBI or the military police know that my father had done all this traveling in the United States? My father had stopped traveling. I would say that he stopped about fifteen or twenty years prior to the war. I was a very small girl when my father stopped traveling as a salesman.

He would stay at home with us in Los Angeles and work out either as a day worker or . . . In fact, at the outbreak of the war my father was working for the Department of Agriculture as an entomologist--studying the insects that were eating the crops. The United States Department of Agriculture and some chemical companies who were making the insecticides for the bugs were working together.


Mitchell

So he was actually an employee of the United States government at that time?


Ishii

Something like that.


Mitchell

Do you recall the day of the Pearl Harbor attack? Do you recall any special feelings you had?


Ishii

Well, of course. I think we all went through a terrible shock. On that Sunday morning I was living as a domestic away from home, and so I was not with my own family. By that time I was almost twentyone. I was working as a domestic out in San Marino, and I had just served breakfast to the family when the news came on the radio that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor. It's hard to describe the shock. I know that the American people were in great shock at the time of Pearl Harbor. And they were angry; they were very, very angry at the Japanese for having been so daring as this.


56

I remember that I asked my boss if I could make this long distance call to Los Angeles to talk to my mother because of the war having broken out. I asked him if I could have the day off and if I could go home to find out what this was all about. I made the call to my mother, and my mother was very, very upset. She said, "I don't understand what is happening, but I am hearing the news as you are hearing it on the radio there." She said, "I can't understand Japan and what it's doing bombing Pearl Harbor." We had no knowledge of anything like this happening, and it was just an absolute shock.

We had mixed emotions about the bombing. We were thinking, "Japan is committing suicide," because it is such a small country. All of Japan could be laid right across the whole of California, and it would be all over with. "What is that small country doing coming this long, long distance to do such crazy things?" And at the same time we were very upset because the general public . . . Even the people that I worked for treated me and talked to me as though it was my own father who was piloting those planes out there at Pearl Harbor.


Mitchell

Oh, even the people you worked for treated you this way?


Ishii

Yes. I remember they told me that I could go home and how I had better stay at home until the FBI could clear me of any suspicion. I said, "Why should I be suspected of anything? I've lived in your home for many years now, nursed you when you were sick and fed you. And I never poisoned you once, and I'm not about to do it now." But they said, "You had better stay at home until we can get the FBI to clear you." And I thought, "Wow!"

So I took the streetcar to my mother's. We got the news of Pearl Harbor's bombing just before noon, and it took me to three or four in the afternoon to get from the people's place in San Marino to my mother's.


Mitchell

Did you feel any animosity from some of the people you were riding on the streetcar with?


Ishii

No. I think everyone was in too much of a state of shock to point their finger at me and say anything. I felt like an ant. I wanted to shrivel up into nothing, and my mind was going a mile a minute, thinking, "What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to say? All I know is that I am an American, and yet now, at a time like this, people are going to say, `You are a Jap,' and that turns the whole picture around." I had never been called a "Jap" in my life. All of these things were going through my mind. By the time I got home the FBI was at our house.


Mitchell

What were they doing there?


Ishii

They were tearing out the floorboards, taking bricks out of the fireplace, and looking through the attic.



57
Mitchell

What were they looking for?


Ishii

Contraband.


Mitchell

Such as what?


Ishii

Machine guns, munitions, maps, binoculars, cameras, swords, knives, and what have you.


Mitchell

How was your family reacting to this invasion?


Ishii

Well, we just stood there--blah! What could we say with military police standing out in front with guns pointing at the house, and telling us to stay right there in a particular room while they went through the whole house? They tore part of the siding out on the side of our house to see if we were hiding things in between the walls. And all we could think was, "How ridiculous!" It was so nonsensical. They didn't have a search warrant. They didn't have any reason to be coming in like this and tearing up our house. And when they left, they took my father with them.


Mitchell

Did they conduct a general search of your neighborhood or was your house singled out?


Ishii

We were singled out. There were no Japanese in our neighborhood. We were living in a cosmopolitan area; it was mostly white. Our next-door neighbors were Germans and Italians. The people across the street were from England. We had a Korean living on the corner of our block who had a little Korean grocery store. I would say that there weren't any Japanese living within six blocks of our house. So we must have been singled out.


Mitchell

So on the very day that Pearl Harbor was bombed your father was taken away?


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

When did you hear from him next?


Ishii

Oh, we didn't hear from him for a long, long time. We were getting all kinds of phone calls from people who were very good to us and who knew us very well. Say, for instance, on a Saturday night we got a phone call saying, "It would be a very good idea if you drove down to Griffith Park tomorrow morning. Way inside of Griffith Park there is a CCC [Civilian Conservation Corps] camp, and this CCC camp is holding about three hundred men, and I think your father might be among them. So you might take a run down there and take a look." We really never knew who had called and told us.

On Sunday morning--instead of going to church--we all jumped in the car. We took toothpaste, soap, washcloths, underwear, pajamas, Hershey bars, chewing gum, and all kinds of things with us, and we


58
took a ride out to Griffith Park. And sure enough, as we got way into Griffith Park, we found military police all around this encampment. All the men that had been picked up the first day of the war were rounded up in there; all were from this particular area. The people in the stockade, as we called it, were not allowed to converse among themselves because most of them didn't speak English.


Mitchell

Why didn't they converse in Japanese?


Ishii

If they did, the MPs couldn't have understood them, so they were threatened to be shot to death if they spoke Japanese. We were very brave, and very young, so we stood out there on the sidelines of this enclosure and yelled, "Dad, Dad, if you recognize us, put your hands up." All of us were yelling in unison at these men. Of course, these men were dumbfounded. They didn't expect a family of young kids to come out and look for them. Of course, my father realized immediately that this couldn't be anyone but his bunch of kids, so he was waving his hand, saying, "Great." So then all of us took turns pitching.


Mitchell

What were you pitching to him?


Ishii

Soap, toothpaste, his shaving kit and things. The MPs couldn't stop us.


Mitchell

Did they try to or did they just turn a blind eye to it?


Ishii

Well, they didn't realize what was going on, because everything was happening so fast. We laughed about the whole thing later. But this was our first encounter with Dad since he was taken from us.


Mitchell

What was the time span involved?


Ishii

About three weeks. I'm sure it was in January when we went to see him at Griffith Park.

Then another time we received a phone call saying, "It might be a good idea--if you know where the train station is in Glendale--for you to take a drive out there and just happen to be around." This was on a Sunday morning again. So on Sunday morning we packed a lot of stuff again, goodies, clothes, foodstuff, and things, and we got into the car and drove out to Glendale. We had a problem locating the train station. It was right off San Fernando Road--practically under our noses--but we drove around and asked at a few gas stations. We parked a block away, and walked into the station there.

It all looked very normal--like any Sunday morning when there is very little happening. But about ten minutes after we arrived there, here came all these Army trucks with canopies over the backs of them. And in all these trucks were all these men out of the


59
compound at Griffith Park. So we knew that our dad must be in this group. So we hid, not letting the military police see us. But then we realized what was happening--they were going to be shipped away on a train. They got off the trucks and were lined up, but they were not handcuffed or anything like that.


Mitchell

Did the soldiers have guns?


Ishii

Oh,yes! When all of the men were lined up, our dad stood out like a sore thumb. He was very tall, and he had grown a beard. They were all looking so tired; all of those men looked so aged and tired, and when we saw our father, we just couldn't help but cry because the change in so short a time had been so drastic.

We didn't want Mother to see him like this because, I think, it probably would have just killed her on the spot. Fortunately, we hadn't brought Mother out with us. We figured that if we were going to get caught, at least we would be citizens being caught. Mother was an alien. If she got caught, we didn't know what they'd do with her, so we made her stay home. It was a long wait for her. We saw them line the men up and put tags on them with their I.D. numbers. They were all dressed in the same type of clothes--Army fatigues. We wondered where their regular clothes that they came in wearing were. A lot of those men were wearing suits when we saw them at Griffith Park.


Mitchell

How much time had elapsed since you saw them at Griffith Park?


Ishii

Maybe a couple of weeks. I don't think the men's heads were shaven or anything like that. All I remember is that all of the men were wearing the same type of clothing. The first thing that flashes into your mind is the movies where you see prisoners wearing prisoners' garb, so that really shook us up. The men were lined up to go on these trains, so we yelled at Dad.


Mitchell

Didn't you get a chance to talk to him at all?


Ishii

No, but he saw our faces, and he recognized each one of us. In fact, he hollered, "Hi, Hana. Hi, Mae. Hi, Amy. Be good, take care."


Mitchell

Did you have any idea where he was going?


Ishii

Oh, no. In fact, no one knew where they were taken until, I believe, we were in Santa Anita. After we were evacuated and were in Santa Anita, the Red Cross notified my mother that Dad was in Fort Missoula in Montana.


Mitchell

Was he in a camp set up specifically for aliens?


Ishii

It was a special camp for so-called hard core enemy aliens.



60
Mitchell

Was it just for Japanese?


Ishii

Oh,yes, all Japanese. These camps held the men who were fishermen out in Terminal Island and Long Beach and all along the West Coast from Washington to Mexico. These men were all pulled up out of their jobs because they worked on the West Coast. They could send signals and what have you. Oh, the American government thought these people were going to commit sabotage. So they categorized them as "hard core enemy aliens" and took these men away from their families--took them just like they took my father. There were approximately two thousand five hundred men taken from their families in this manner--Japanese language school teachers, judo teachers, kendo teachers, Buddhist priests, anyone who worked in the import and export business with Japan--rounded up and taken away.


Mitchell

So anyone who was considered dangerous in any sense was taken?


Ishii

Yes. They were not given due process or anything--they were just considered potentially dangerous.

People say that families were not being broken up. That's a lot of malarkey; it happened to our own family. We know how badly the families were broken up. We've seen too many of our friends whose fathers were in the same situation as my father. A lot of the farmers up in Palos Verdes, Rolling Hills, Signal Hill, Dominguez Hills, and Huntington Beach areas were taken away. If they were suspected of anything at all, they were tagged "potentially dangerous enemy aliens," and taken. When you think of the number of Japanese people that were rounded up in this fashion, you've got to relate these numbers to the fact that each one of these men had a family--a wife, and so many children.


Mitchell

So that's at least two thousand five hundred families that were broken up.


Ishii

Exactly. So don't let anyone tell you that the families were not broken up or separated. It happened.


Mitchell

Let's backtrack just a little bit. On the day of Pearl Harbor, did the military police come into your house or the FBI? Or did both come in?


Ishii

It was both.


Mitchell

Was the rest of your family together then?


Ishii

Well, like I say, I was working as a domestic out in San Marino.


Mitchell

But you had come home that day.


Ishii

Yes. My sisters were at home. I had one brother who was in--I


61
don't know if it's called the National Guard or State Guard--so he was away. The rest of them were all school age, so they were all home. The brother that was in the National Guard or State Guard was home in a week's time. He was given a dishonorable discharge for being an undesirable Japanese who was not to be trusted. So he was sent home. We were very happy because we needed a fellow at home.


Mitchell

What feelings did you have as a family after they took your father away? Did you have any idea what was going to happen to your family?


Ishii

Well, we really didn't know. We were in a state of shock for the longest time. We didn't know what was happening from one week to the next. The news would keep changing. There was a time when the news said, "If you people will be very good citizens and stay within a certain area of your residence, you will not be bothered." There was a very strict curfew law. We had to be in by five o'clock in the evening; we could not go out before a certain time in the morning; we could travel only so many miles away from our homes. If you worked a little further than that from your home, then you had to give up your job.


Mitchell

How did the family feel about the absence of your father?


Ishii

This was the most difficult thing, adjusting to having Dad away from home. My mother and father had just celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and after twenty-five years of being married and really not being separated in anyway, other than when my father was traveling as a salesman . . . but this was an understanding that they had with each other. Of course, mother was home with the children, but to have my father forcibly taken away from my mother . . . It was the first time that they had ever been separated.


Mitchell

I imagine that she was in a state of shock.


Ishii

She certainly was. Her blood pressure was really high, and it was a matter of trying to keep her composure. She realized that she now had to be the head of the household, the backbone of the family. It was very difficult when the little ones would say to my mother, "When is Daddy coming home? Where is he?" What kind of answers could she give?


Mitchell

Right, because she just didn't know.


Ishii

Yes. Could she tell the children truthfully that Daddy will be gone only a couple of weeks or a couple of months or a couple of years? She didn't even know. And the children were very close to Dad, so they worried about him everyday. Of course, the mention of my father would just break my mother up, and it was just eating away at her. Then the evacuation order came.



62
Mitchell

What was the next contact that you had with any governmental agency? Did anyone else come out to your house?


Ishii

Oh, yes. The FBI came out regularly. They were coming out to the house almost like clockwork. We could see FBI people sitting in automobiles, just within view of our house.


Mitchell

What were they looking for?


Ishii

To see who came and went from the house and what we did--our activities. It's very possible they could have been "keeping us under surveillance." It's a very uneasy feeling to know that somebody is out there watching your house and your movements twenty-four hours a day.


Mitchell

Did they ever come in and search again or was that first day the only time?


Ishii

No, the first day was the extent of it.


Mitchell

They just kept surveillance on you.


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

Did you have any inkling what was in store before the evacuation notice came?


Ishii

Well, there were all kinds of hints of an impending evacuation. In those days we went to school from September to January and from February through June. We had a mid-semester break, and two semesters made a school year. In January we were all told, "Don't bother to register for the next semester because you won't be here." So we, as American citizens in schools, knew that we were not going to be here for very much longer.


Mitchell

Did you have any idea where you were going to be?


Ishii

Oh, no. No, that was really the biggest surprise of all. No one had any inkling as to where we were going to be sent and for how long. Of course, when the actual evacuation order was declared--President Roosevelt's Executive Order 9066--posters were put up along all of the telephone poles, fences, and any public place. No one could miss seeing these posters. Those original posters should be collectors' items today, if anyone saved them.


Mitchell

How much time did you have between announcement of Executive Order 9066 and the actual evacuation?


Ishii

Well, we knew in February that we would eventually be evacuated. We didn't know just when, but there was a deadline. They offered us a chance to leave the West Coast voluntarily. Japanese people who had money, or businesses, and could liquidate all of their property and businesses could take their families and move voluntarily


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inland. Presumably, they would not be affected by the evacuation. Many of the Japanese people did this, only to find that when they got out of California and started to go in through Nevada and Arizona and the other states, the people in those states were waiting and saying, "You're not coming through our state."


Mitchell

Oh, you mean they wouldn't let the Japanese people pass through?


Ishii

They wouldn't let them go through or settle in Nevada and in these various other states, so it was very discouraging. So they came back and ended up evacuating anyway. Some of the more wealthy people were able to take their families on the trains and bypass these blockings along the border and into Colorado, Utah, and other places. But our family was not able to voluntarily evacuate so we were at the mercy of the military police.


Mitchell

I see. So they didn't notify each family individually then.


Ishii

No, we were all told in a mass.


Mitchell

How much time did you have to prepare to leave?


Ishii

Each area was different. People that lived on Terminal Island and San Pedro had approximately twenty-four to forty-eight hours to dispose of all their personal property and everything. Other people such as ourselves--we lived in an area where there were few Japanese people--were told that we had to go to an area where there was a community of Japanese people on the southwest side of town. We knew approximately two months ahead. In February we knew that we would be evacuated, and we evacuated on the weekend of Easter Sunday--the first Sunday in April.


Mitchell

Oh, I see. When that day arrived, did you have to go to an assembly point?


Ishii

Yes. First, we had to dispose of all our belongings, and this is a thing that really, really hurt. We stood by so helplessly when people, who we thought were our friends and neighbors, came by and said to my mother, "I'll give you two dollars for your stove, a dollar and a half for your refrigerator, a dollar for your washing machine, and fifty cents for each bed in the house, including the mattress and all the linens." That really hurt because we knew--I was old enough to realize--it took my mother and father twenty-five years of hard work to put together a few things. And then to have this kind of a thing happen!

We finally got rid of everything except--we had an old-fashioned upright piano that we were very fond of, and there was no way that my mother was going to let that piano go for two dollars. She just refused; she said she would take that piano out in the backyard and take an axe to it before she'd let anyone take it away for two dollars. On evacuation day, we were all told to assemble with


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our belongings. We were allowed to take approximately a hundred pounds per person or as much as each individual could carry, and they told you what kind of things you should bring.


Mitchell

What did they suggest?


Ishii

The evacuation poster will tell you. At the bottom it said, "Things that you will need to bring." Like very personal, private things that you need: a cup or a mug, a plate, a fork, a spoon and a butter knife, no sharp-edged knives, bedding enough for each person, changes of clothing--to be prepared for pioneer living, and things like that. Those people who had any money would go out and buy these cute little camping kits. You had to think of a toothbrush, hairbrush, toothpaste, soap, toilet paper and Kleenex. Various things like this become bulky soon. Thank goodness, the girls didn't wear rollers in those days; we had pincurls, so it was just a matter of getting enough bobby pins to pin our hair up. We were allowed to bring only what was absolutely necessary.


Mitchell

Where were you told to assemble?


Ishii

We were told to assemble at the Centenary Methodist Church on the corner of Thirty-fifth and Normandie. There was a group that assembled at the Hollywood Independent Church on Westmoreland and Lexington and one at the Union Church in Little Tokyo, in downtown Los Angeles. Depending on where you lived you were told to be at a particular place by 9 a.m. on a particular day. Then the trucks and the buses would roll up and take all your belongings. They tagged everything with your name. Then you got on these trucks and buses. From the minute we left our home to the time we arrived at Santa Anita Racetrack, we had no idea where we were going.


Mitchell

Who was supervising this evacuation, the military police?


Ishii

It was the Wartime Civilian Control Administration [WCCA].


Mitchell

Were they civilians or soldiers?


Ishii

Mostly soldiers, because they all had guns and wore hardhat helmets and uniforms. But there also were a lot of civilians that were involved. We didn't know who they were, but they were involved in this whole movement. We were told that they were the authority, and who were we to question?


Mitchell

You were in no position to.


Ishii

Yes. So anyhow we were taken to the Santa Anita Racetrack where all of our belongings were unloaded, and then the head of the household . . . At that time my sister took over--being the oldest girl in the family. My brother couldn't act as the head of the household because he had his own household. He was married, and


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his wife was almost six months pregnant at the time that we were evacuated. So my sister became the head of the household. We were given a family number and a family barrack, a unit. Then they opened up all of our belongings, inspected everything to see that there was no contraband, and then made us tie them up again. Then we were told to go and find our barrack. If you don't think that was one big circus!


Mitchell

What were these barracks like at Santa Anita?


Ishii

They were just temporary housing. Well, most of the people that were there before us were in the stables. People were living in Seabiscuit's stable. The horses were not there, but the straw was, along with the smell. The Terminal Island people and the San Pedro people were the people that really had it the worst because they had to live in the stables. We called it Dogpatch, but it was actually the stables area. It was a terribly dusty, dirty, smelly area. We were lucky; we lived in the parking lot area where they had constructed these new prefabricated barracks. Each barrack was broken into six units, and each family took one unit, so there were six families living in one barrack.


Mitchell

How big a living space did you have as a family?


Ishii

Gee, it's hard to say. I know that we had to crawl over and around the cots that they provided for us in order to make the beds. In fact, the joke there was that you had to back out of your room to make the bed, because we had so many beds in our barracks. But after awhile, after they got all the people in--we had approximately twenty-two thousand in the Santa Anita Assembly Center--they were able to find that they could double up a lot of the bachelors and the old maids to make space. They eventually got around to giving the mother of the larger families and the real small, grammar school age children one unit; then put the teenage girls in one and the teenage boys in another. They felt we needed a little bit more privacy with ten kids in a family. But we still all went to the same latrines, mess halls, laundries, and showers. This was really what you would call total communal living.


Mitchell

How long were you at Santa Anita?


Ishii

Let's see, we were there the first week in April, 1942. I left Santa Anita the first of September to go to Heart Mountain, Wyoming. My mother, sisters and brothers were in Santa Anita until November of that year, when they were sent to Amache, Colorado.


Mitchell

Why were you sent to two different locations?


Ishii

Well, it's like this. When we were in Santa Anita, I decided I was going to get married. So I got married in camp.


Mitchell

Had you met your husband in camp or had you known him before?



66
Ishii

No, I knew him before, but the thing is, the man that I married didn't register at the same church where my family had registered. He had registered in Little Tokyo at Union Church. All the people who registered at Union Church were eventually sent to Heart Mountain, Wyoming. Those who registered at Centenary Methodist Church were sent to Amache, Colorado. And those who registered at Hollywood Independent Church went to Arkansas.


Mitchell

What was the logic in breaking up the group like that? Why weren't all the people from, say, Los Angeles sent to one camp?


Ishii

This we could never understand. In Heart Mountain, Wyoming, we ended up having people from Little Tokyo, Los Angeles; Portland, Oregon; Seattle, Washington; San Jose and San Diego. They could have filled five of the camps with just Los Angeles people, and yet they spread the Los Angeles people to all the various areas. Then filled the rest with people from other places. The War Relocation Authority [WRA] didn't know what they were doing anyway. They didn't realize what they had done wrong until after the damage was done, and then they all admitted, "Wow, we could have done it this way," and, "We could have done it that way," or, "We didn't have to do it at all." (laughter) So that's about how it ended up.


Mitchell

How did you go to Heart Mountain?


Ishii

We were put on a train, right on the back side of Santa Anita, and we took ten days to get from Santa Anita, Arcadia, California, to Heart Mountain, Wyoming. We went by way of Poston, Arizona; Gila, Arizona; Amache, Colorado; Topaz, Utah . . .


Mitchell

Oh, you dropped off contingents at every stop.


Ishii

We went all the way to Little Rock, Arkansas, to Jerome, and to McGehee--they called it. Then coming back this way, we stopped off at Minidoka, Idaho, and dropped off some more people. The train ended up in Heart Mountain, Wyoming, where we got off ten days later.


Mitchell

Were you given living quarters there, or was the camp brand new?


Ishii

It was still in the process of being constructed, although there was one contingent of people that was already there. They came from Pomona Assembly Center, the Pomona Fairgrounds. The San Gabriel Valley Japanese were brought in about a week or ten days before we arrived there. When they got there, their barracks were not even completed; they had to finish them themselves. They had to tarpaper it and Celotex the insides. But by the time we got there, our barracks were made. We had to do the finishing up on the inside only, but not on the outside. We didn't have water yet; they were bringing water in great big tanks in trucks and putting it in containers for us. We were rationed water and things like that.



67
Mitchell

Did each family have individual living quarters there, too?


Ishii

Each barrack was also split up into six units, a family per unit.


Mitchell

No matter what the size of the family?


Ishii

Yes. It was just on a larger scale than at the assembly center, that's all.


Mitchell

What was your first impression of Heart Mountain when you got there?


Ishii

Well, we knew that America was huge, but we didn't know it was this huge, to have so much barren, open space the way they had up there. For miles and miles around, you could look as far as your eye could see and you couldn't see the first tree. No trees, nothing green, it was all brown and there was this mountain just sitting behind us. We thought, "Well, maybe the mountain will act as protection for us." By the time we arrived there, which was approximately the tenth or the twelfth of September, they were in the middle of a dust storm. You couldn't open your mouth because all the dust would come in. You could just barely see, and the only way to keep your eyes clean was just to cry and let the tears wash your eyes out. Inside your ears, up your nostrils, you could just feel the grit and grime, and when you rubbed your teeth together, you could feel all this sand. It was a horrible feeling, and there was total confusion.

For the first three days, we didn't even know where our baggage was. We couldn't find our things, and trucks were going up and down between the barracks yelling our family numbers to see who would claim certain things. They said, "Don't go looking for your things; they will bring them to you." So all we could do was to sit on the stoop of our barrack and wait and wait and wait. Life became a waiting game, the whole time that we spent in camp. You waited in line to go to the latrines, to eat in the mess halls, to do your laundry and to take your showers. It was just a total waiting game. The fellows complain about doing this in the Army, but it was no different in our concentration camp--the same thing.


Mitchell

Did you and your husband have jobs? Were you assigned jobs to do?


Ishii

Yes, I worked in the camp hospital as a nurse's aide. My husband, a musician, was on what they called the educational program, and he was assigned to either teach or to play music. He chose to play music. So he organized the Hawaiian band and they called themselves Alfred Tanaka and His Singing Surfriders. We got a bunch of Japanese girls that were from Hawaii, and we taught them to dance the hula; some of them already knew how. I used to do a lot of singing, so I was the vocalist for the group, and I learned to sing all these Hawaiian songs. We used to go from block to block. Each block had recreation halls, and in order to keep the morale of the people up, we'd have what we'd call talent night.


68
We would do the entertaining, and he got paid nineteen dollars a month for that and I got nineteen dollars a month for being a nurse's aide.


Mitchell

Was there any place that you could spend this "magnificent" sum?


Ishii

Well, they started a canteen. The government set them up when they realized that once they got us--ten thousand people--into a compound that we had needs such as soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, Kleenex or toilet paper. The government could never keep us supplied with toilet paper, and the girls had to have certain things at certain times of the month and things like that. At first we, through sheer necessity, were using the Sears and Montgomery Ward's catalogs and ordering these things by mail. Then the government said, "We have to set up canteens in our camps." Some camps were lucky enough to have two canteens; we only had one. You could go down there and buy your personal needs, and later they stocked material, some clothing, cosmetics, and even soda pop and ice cream later.


Mitchell

So the children had a few goodies too.


Ishii

If you could afford it, you could have it. Very few people were earning nineteen dollars a month; we were considered the top level. There was another range, and they were getting sixteen dollars a month--the non-professionals. And what they called the blue-collar workers were paid twelve dollars a month. Students and young kids were paid something like nine dollars a month for little odd jobs.

I remember my little brother used to distribute the camp newspaper from barrack to barrack. We had a mimeographed camp newspaper that he delivered in a particular area. He couldn't deliver ten thousand, that's for sure. They hired a lot of young junior high and high school boys or girls to distribute them from barrack to barrack. They easily could have beat that by putting stacks of them in each mess hall, and every family that came through the mess hall would get it automatically. But those authority people just didn't think. So we figured, "Well, as long as they are willing to pay our kids for it, let the kids have these jobs."


Mitchell

Were you able to keep in touch with the rest of your family that was in the other camps?


Ishii

Yes, we kept in touch. The family knew that I went to Heart Mountain because as soon as I arrived there I wrote to Santa Anita.


Mitchell

They hadn't known where you were going.


Ishii

They didn't know where I was headed for, because the train that I was on went to all the other camps.


Mitchell

And they didn't tell you in advance?



69
Ishii

No, we never knew in which camp we would eventually end up. When we got to wherever our destination was, it was our place to write to our family and let them know where we were. I didn't realize then that my mother, sisters and brothers had left Santa Anita to go to Amache, Colorado, until they got there and wrote me in Heart Mountain saying, "This is where we are."


Mitchell

Did you hear from your father, too?


Ishii

My father's contact with the family came by way of the Red Cross.


Mitchell

Oh, I see. But was he allowed to correspond personally?


Ishii

No, not for a long time. It was at least six to eight months before we could get personal contact with my father. My mother was corresponding with him for awhile at the beginning, but all the letters were censored. I remember my mother sitting there with her first letter from my father. She opened up this beautiful letter that had already been ripped open and then Scotch-taped closed. She opened it very carefully, and set it down on a little table we had built. She opened this letter and pieces came out of it. She thought, "Wow, what's this? Is Daddy playing some kind of a joke on me?" We kind of put them together, and all we got was "and, but, so, how"--words, just words. Nothing of importance came out; nobody's name; no place--nothing. My mother sat there just completely exasperated. (laughter) That was her first contact with my father from Fort Missoula in Montana.


Mitchell

Did he stay in Fort Missoula the entire time?


Ishii

No, he was sent from there to Lordsburg, New Mexico, and then to Santa Fe, New Mexico, and then to . . . And in between--each time he changed camps--he was sent to a port of deportation. They sent him to Seattle once to get on some boat that was supposed to take him back to Japan, and he fought them. He said, "I refuse to go to Japan. You're not sending me to Japan. My life is here; my wife and my children are here. You're not sending me to Japan. You've got no reason to send me. Therefore, you've got to send me back to camp." So instead of sending him back to Fort Missoula they sent him to Lordsburg. From there they sent him to another place where he was supposed to catch a boat to Japan, and he fought them again. He said, "You're not sending me to Japan." So they sent him to Santa Fe. Then he went to Long Beach or someplace, and they were going to put him on a boat to send him to Japan. He said, "No way are you going to send me to Japan." By that time he had four sons in the service, and he said, "I've got boys fighting for this country; my wife is in camp, and my children are there. I have nothing to go to Japan for, and I refuse to go." So they sent him to Bismarck, North Dakota, and then they sent him from there to New Jersey to catch another boat.


Mitchell

He had extensive travels, didn't he?



70
Ishii

Yes, and he was going to get on the Gripsholm ship in New Jersey, but he fought them again. He said, "There's no way that you're going to send me to Japan; I have nothing there. I would become a ward of the government if you sent me to Japan. How am I going to be able to provide for my wife and children, and I've got sons fighting in the service here." So instead of sending him back to Bismarck, North Dakota, they said, "Well, the only thing we can do in a case like this is to open up another camp."


Mitchell

And where was that?


Ishii

This was in Crystal City, Texas. They made it into a family camp, where those men who were considered "hard core enemy aliens" could now join their wives. So my father went to Crystal City, and my mother and the minor children left Amache to join my father at Crystal City. This was the first time they had seen each other during all that time.


Mitchell

During this extensive process, did he ever receive any kind of a hearing or trial?


Ishii

Well, apparently it was not what you would call a trial. It gave somebody or some people a job to do, and that was to go into these camps and interrogate the internees. I know that my father had been interrogated almost daily for months upon months. He had to lay down his whole life history from the time he was born to the present. What they were doing was actually trying to find out why they were holding him. They had to have a reason for keeping him.


Mitchell

So they were trying to find it after the fact.


Ishii

Now that they had the person behind barbed wire, they asked, "Why do we have him here?" So they had to find a reason for keeping him there. That is what it all boils down to. At the very end they did admit to us though--to the family and to my father--that they really had no reason for keeping him. He was much more American than a lot of the Americans walking the main streets of any city today. He was more American politically, he knew the laws; he knew the Constitution, the by-laws, and the rights. He studied the United States government so extensively that he actually knew more about America than a lot of the men who were interrogating him. You know what I mean?


Mitchell

Yes.


Ishii

At the same time, they were also coming to our camps where we were interned--to Heart Mountain, Wyoming, and to Amache, Colorado. While we were in Santa Anita, it was a daily occurrence for the FBI--we called them the Feds--to come in. You could always tell when they were there because they were in suits and ties. And I thought, "Oh Lordie, here they are again." They would single out our family and ask us to come, one at a time, into a particular barrack that


71
they used for interrogation, and they would question us. We kept asking them, "What are you questioning us for? I mean, if you'd tell us what you want, we'll tell you." But they couldn't tell us what they were looking for. Nevertheless, they kept questioning us with silly questions that really didn't amount to anything. They were coming to the children of my father and trying to make the children say something about their father that they could put their thumb down on and say, "Ah, now there's one reason that we could be holding this man."

You know, actually, the whole thing is so asinine when you come right down to it; it's very hard for the government to be able to explain my father's internment as a so-called hard-core enemy alien, to the public. In reality there wasn't another Japanese couple on the West Coast who was more American than my mother and father. They came to this country as young teenage people, married in California, raised ten children here, and never went back to Japan. And being able to handle the English language as well as my mother and father did, they were really . . . I mean, if they had been given the opportunity to become American citizens, they would have been the first Japanese to do so because they had the advantage of knowing the language.


Mitchell

Did they ever give your father a hearing in front of a judge or a court hearing.


Ishii

No, no court hearing.


Mitchell

No court hearing at all; they just interrogated him.


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

How long did they keep him after he was in Crystal City, Texas?


Ishii

He came home to our family in September, 1947.


Mitchell

That was long after the rest of you had returned.


Ishii

Yes, we had already been released from camp. I had been in Chicago from 1944 until 1946, then I came back to California to join my mother, sisters and brothers. My brothers, who had been overseas, were already back by that time. Lo and behold, in September, 1947 they finally decided to turn my father loose. He came home to us while we were living at the housing project known at that time as Roger Young Village, which was the quonset hut village out there behind Griffith Park. So he started out from Griffith Park and came back to Griffith Park.


Mitchell

Did they ever give him or your family any reason why he was held for such a long period of time?


Ishii

No.



72
Mitchell

They just took him, and they let him go when they wanted to.


Ishii

Someday I hope they'll open the archives and let us read the case history of my father.


Mitchell

It would be interesting.


Ishii

It would be very, very interesting. Why they kept him is a mystery to us, and I think it has been a mystery to the government for all these years.


Mitchell

You mentioned you had four brothers serving in the Army. What units were they in?


Ishii

Well, my brothers all volunteered at the same time to go into the service.


Mitchell

Were they living in the camps when they volunteered?


Ishii

They were in Amache, Colorado. There were bad feelings among the Japanese people in the camps, because all the Nisei, the American citizens that were eighteen years of age and over, were made to sign a questionnaire, to state whether they would be faithful to this country or not.


Mitchell

Some kind of loyalty test?


Ishii

Yes, it was a loyalty questionnaire. Everyone called it "question 27 and 28." It was worded something to the effect, "Will you be willing to bear arms for this country, or will you not fight on behalf of Japan?" And, "Would you be loyal to this country?" Of course, what is the justification of the government bringing questionnaires such as that into these barbed wire encampments where we were being "protected," when we didn't ask to be protected, when we didn't feel we needed to be protected. (laughter) They looked upon us as enemies of this country, and yet they dared to bring in this type of questionnaire asking us all to sign those questions saying, "Will you be faithful and loyal to this country?" How could we be anything but? They had us where they wanted us, behind barbed wire, guard towers, searchlights, and armed guards. So this was really a ridiculous thing. It was really an insult to the integrity of the American people, to put forth these types of questions to the Japanese internees, and we were considered internees. And yet, the boys still were forced to sign these questionnaires. Many, many Japanese people said, "Don't sign it. By golly, they've got us here. If they want us to be loyal Americans, turn us loose, put us back where we were, send us home, and then draft our boys into the service. Then our boys would be justified to go and fight for this country and prove their loyalty to this country." So there were a lot of hard feelings.

My mother, brothers and sisters all agreed that if the boys volunteered to go into the service in spite of the fact that their father


73
was interned in a so-called hard core enemy alien camp . . . My mother, who had done nothing against they country except raise ten children, was behind barbed wire. In spite of all that, my mother felt, "If you boys go and serve this country and prove your loyalty, maybe they will turn Daddy loose, and at least give a chance for Dad to join Mother and the children and bring back the family unit." So with this in mind, my brothers said, "Yes, there's a good chance that they might allow Dad to be either completely released or at least released where he can come and join Mother and the children." So the boys decided that they would go.

When they went for their physicals, Ernie was rejected because he had a hernia. The doctors at the physical said, "You must have that repaired before you go into the service." He was heartbroken because he wanted to go with his brothers, yet, he knew that this was something he had to have taken care of. They had to go out to Colorado Springs or someplace to sign up for the service and take their physicals. Anyway, Ernie was rejected, but Howard and Stanley were accepted, and they went to Camp Savage in Minnesota. They entered what you call military intelligence. They called them G-2s. They went as interpreters.


Mitchell

Did they have a knowledge of the Japanese language?


Ishii

No. But they went to Camp Savage, which was a language school, basic training and a crash program in Japanese language. It sounds so very funny, when you think back now, that our boys spoke Japanese with an American accent. My mother used to just roar with laughter when she heard these boys speaking Japanese with an American accent. It was like speaking English with a Japanese accent, you know. We laugh, we kind of giggle when we hear Japanese people, just off the boat, try very desperately to speak English, and they speak it with this Japanese accent. Well, it's the same way when our boys try to speak Japanese; we speak Japanese with an American accent. Anyhow, they learned enough to be able to go as interpreters to the Pacific theater of war. Two of my brothers went with Merrill's Marauders to the Philippines and then on to China, Burma, and India. In fact, my present husband also was with that group as was my husband's brother.


Mitchell

Oh, I see.


Ishii

So we're a very tightly knit family.

My younger brother Bob decided, "If they're going to pull this type of a thing on us, let me give one to the government." So he said, "The Navy has never taken Japanese people; I'm going to volunteer. I'm going to volunteer for the Navy, and they can't refuse me because they want volunteers, and I'm volunteering." So he volunteered for the Navy, and he posed quite a problem to them because they weren't ready for that. They didn't think that the Japanese boys would be volunteering for the Navy of all places! Up to this


74
point, you see, the only Asians that were ever accepted into the Navy in the United States were the Filipino boys who came in as quartermasters.


Mitchell

Servants?


Ishii

Yes, servants. They waited on the officers, and they were the cook's crew, and they did all the dirty work. And here comes a young Nisei boy out of an internment camp, yet, saying, "Here I am. Now do with me what you wish." They couldn't make him into a servant and put him in with the Filipinos; the Filipinos would have killed him, because Japan was fighting the Philippines too. So, wow!


Mitchell

There were some hard feelings, then.


Ishii

Oh, absolutely! So the only thing they could do was to say to my brother, "What in particular would you like to do while you're in the Navy?" My brother said, "Well, I'd like to be a medic." And they said, "Wow!" But they sent him through the Medical Corps, and he became a pharmacist's mate, or whatever it's called.

In the meantime, Ernie came back to Amache, Colorado, and underwent some surgery--corrective surgery for his hernia. As soon as he was able to, he went right back to the recruiting office and said, "Okay, I'm ready. Take me." He thought he was going to go where his brothers had gone; instead they sent him to the 442nd. He went down to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, for his very, very rigid basic training. It was really hard basic training.

My sister Mae was engaged to a young Japanese from Hawaii, and he had joined the 442nd. About the same time that Ernie went to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, to join the 442nd, her fiance had come from Hawaii, along with all the University of Hawaii students. They came to Hattiesburg for their basic training before they were sent overseas. So my sister Mae asked the government for permission to go to Hattiesburg to be married, because she was engaged and everything was legal and on the up and up. So they said, "All right." They gave her a clearance to leave the camp, she went to Hattiesburg and was married. A few weeks after she was married, her husband was sent overseas; he went to Italy and France.

Meanwhile, my little brother Ernie had finished his basic training, and he went on the same boat with the young man who was now our brother-in-law. So he went along with his brother-in-law to Italy and France and, fortunately, both of them came back to America after serving in Italy and France. So it was a very interesting thing to see the boys go to the various parts of the service in the United States.


Mitchell

Didn't you have an older brother, Buddy?



75
Ishii

Yes, our oldest brother Buddy was a newspaper columnist. He wrote articles for the Japanese newspapers and he had a column called the "Nisei Melodrama." It was quite an interesting . . . I mean, he was a young fellow fresh out of high school. He had actually gone to Compton Junior College and had been a journalism major. He was quite an outgoing type of person.

During the Shanghai incident in the 1930s, he wanted to go and cover the war in Shanghai and China. So he took a tramp steamer that was going to . . . This was a Danish steamer that was going to Vladivostok of all places. He worked his way on this tramp steamer in the laundry room, and didn't have to lay out any money for his trip. He told the captain of the ship that he was a newspaper writer looking for adventure, so he thought he'd like to go to the Orient and cover this war. So he asked, "Could I get a job on your ship and work my way over without having to lay any money out?" They said they were very happy to have him, so they gave him this job, and he worked his way on this tramp steamer to Vladivostok.

After arriving in Vladivostok, he worked his way down into Manchuria, China, and then down to Shanghai where he had relatives. We had an uncle who was a shipbuilder in Shanghai, so he went to the uncle in Shanghai and said, "I came all the way over here on my own, and I'd like to cover the war." So he was introduced to various dignitaries in the Japanese army, the military, and they sent him in as a correspondent. He got a special uniform to wear that they only gave to newspaper people--correspondent's uniform. They wear a special hat and a special armband designating them as press. And at the same time well-known writers from Life and Time magazines, Readers'Digest, Saturday Evening Post, Christian Science Monitor were covering the war. All of them went as a group, and my brother was in this group.


Mitchell

Oh. Were any of the other correspondents Japanese?


Ishii

No, but because of the fact that my brother was Japanese, he was given high priority and he became the leader of all of these correspondents. They looked to Buddy to show them the "in" places, the best hotels to stay at, where they could arrange things ahead of time, and things like this. So Buddy was a war correspondent, and he was in Japan and China from 1937 straight on through to 1939, 1940 and 1941. He was still in China when the war broke out between Japan and the United States. So there was no way he could get back to the United States.


Mitchell

Oh, I see. So he was an American citizen stranded in China.


Ishii

Well, he lost his American citizenship because of the fact that, during the time that the Japanese in America were being interned in concentration camps by our American government, the Japanese government was also interning Americans who were prisoners of the


76
Japanese. This put my brother in a very, very peculiar category because he was a Japanese American. You see what I mean, he wasn't a Japanese national.


Mitchell

Did he have dual citizenship or was he just an American?


Ishii

No, he just had an American citizenship. But the fact that he had married a girl, a Japanese national, in Japan put him in a very peculiar classification. So he was conscripted into the Japanese army as a newspaper person.


Mitchell

Oh, so in a sense he served in the Japanese army.


Ishii

Yes, it's just like saying that he had to fight in the Japanese army, you know what I mean? He served the Japanese military.


Mitchell

Yes. So you had brothers on both sides, then.


Ishii

In fact, one of the most peculiar things and a very unusual thing--I think it only happened to two or three Japanese families--is when brothers fought brothers. My brothers actually saw each other, met each other toe to toe overseas.


Mitchell

He lost his American citizenship, then, for serving in the Japanese army?


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

Did he ever try to regain it?


Ishii

No, my brother died. He was taken a prisoner of the Americans in the Philippines, and he was in the American concentration camp in the Philippines. This is another peculiar thing. My brother Howard was in the Philippines as an American at that time. He was with Merrill's Marauders, and they had gone to the Philippines. They happened to go to this camp where they had all the POWs and, lo and behold, he saw his own brother behind barbed wires there. You can imagine the emotional upheaval that he went through. He hollered at Buddy. He said, "Buddy, do you know who I am?" And Buddy said, "Sure, you're Howard, you're my brother. How come you're here? What are you doing way over on this side of the world?" He said, "I'm in an American uniform." It was just one of those very, very tragic times when they saw each other with a fence between them, you know.

Howard had promised Buddy that he would be back the next day, and he couldn't go back. He was to bring him some personal provisions like shaving outfits, some soap, and stuff like that. He had a lot of work that had to be done on the ship that they were on, and he went back to his ship. He was directing the crane operator who was loading and unloading things from the dock into the ship and vice versa. The crane operator made a mistake and, instead of moving the crane a particular way, it swung toward my


77
brother. My brother fell down into the hold of the ship which was about eight floors down. His body was totally crushed, and he was unconscious with two broken legs, two broken arms, and a broken back. That put an end to his seeing Buddy. So they put him in a hammock type of thing, flew him on a helicopter, put him on a plane, and brought him all the way from the Philippines to a veterans' hospital in Oklahoma where they mended his body.


Mitchell

Did he fully recover?


Ishii

Yes, he recovered. He stayed in the Army for twenty years and then retired.


Mitchell

Did your older brother, Buddy, go back to Japan after he was released from the POW camp in the Philippines?


Ishii

Yes. He had a family in Japan, so he went back to Japan. He never regained his health. He had malaria and jungle fever and all kinds of things when he was in the Philippines and in the camps. As a result of all that, he developed tuberculosis and had to have surgery, and a couple of ribs were removed. Then he had had asthma the better part of his life; in childhood and adult life he had asthma very bad, and that didn't help matters any. So in the end--I believe it was about 1953 or 1954--he got to the point where he was completely bedridden. His wife really took good care of him right up to the bitter end.

My father went to Japan to visit him and took a lot of medication to him with the hope that it could help, but the doctors had already said that there was no hope for my brother. So it was a matter of "Do you want to come to America to die, or do you want to stay in Japan to die?" My brother said . . . Well, my father made the decision for my brother; he said, "You're married, you have a family, and you belong here in Japan with your family. You don't want to come to America again."

By that time we had several incidents here in America, such as the Tokyo Rose incident. We also had a thing called the Kawakita case. A man called "Meatball" Kawakita who was an American citizen, a Nisei, had served in the Japanese army in Japan during World War II. I understand that he was an MP in one of the internment camps in Japan. He had mistreated a lot of American GIs, and a Caucasian ex-GI saw this Japanese fellow and pointed his finger at him, and said, "You're the guy that I remember from the days that I was in a POW camp in Japan." As a result of that, the man was thrown into jail and tried for treason here in America. He received a life sentence. I understand that, instead of serving his life sentence out, he was deported and sent to Japan not too long ago.

So things like this were happening about the same time that Buddy was very, very sick, and there was very little hope for his recovery. My father said to him, "You don't want this type of a thing,


78
you don't want scandal, you don't want trouble. The best way to die is to be with your family, your wife and your children." So Buddy said, "Yes, my preference is to stay here in Japan and die." So that's where he died on December 10, 1953. His three children were very small then.


Mitchell

So you still have relatives living in Japan? Is his family still there?


Ishii

Yes. Oh, yes.


Mitchell

Have you had any contact with them at all?


Ishii

We were in constant contact with them after the war was over and when we realized that Buddy was very, very sick. We were sending provisions to them all along. Then after Buddy died, we supported his widow and three children for many, many years. I think fifteen or twenty years we supported her and the children, because the children were so young and she wasn't able to work. My father tried to arrange it so that all of the Uno brothers and sisters would put up five dollars per person each month which, with nine brothers and sisters, would be forty-five American dollars. We would send that to Buddy's widow, and she would convert it into yen. They could live off it; they could really live well off of forty-five dollars of American money per month. It would pay their rent, their food, their clothing, and see that the children went to school. And because my brother was so well liked and so well known in Japan, all of the Nisei newspeople who were in Japan set up a fund for Buddy's oldest boy to go to a university and become a journalist himself.


Mitchell

Oh, that's really nice.


Ishii

So they set up a scholarship for him, and he went to Rikkyo University for four years. He graduated and is now a journalist.


Mitchell

So he's following in his father's footsteps?


Ishii

Yes.


Mitchell

I'd like to backtrack a little bit. While you were at Heart Mountain, I'm sure there were some grumblings of discontent among the people about the regimented living, the conditions, and the fact that they were being interned at all. Was there any kind of organized protest about the conditions, or did the people pretty much live each day as it came?


Ishii

Well, I look at Heart Mountain, Wyoming, as one of the luckier camps. We were so darned remote from everybody and everything that, by the time the news of rumblings in Manzanar and Topaz and other camps got to us, it was already three or four weeks later. That's how remote we were from what was happening at other


79
places. We were very fortunate because we didn't have what you would call an out-and-out riot in our camp. We didn't have any killings. We didn't have anyone try to escape from camp and have the MPs kill them. Where the dickens would they escape to?

We had what we called self-government, and I think we set up a very good self-governmental organization in our camp. We had almost twenty thousand at Heart Mountain, whereas Amache had only eight thousand. Some of the camps were large and some were small. Ours was one of the larger ones, but it was very remote, too. We had Japanese from so many different areas. But we just figured, "We are all Japanese Americans. We are going to be here for awhile--we don't know how long--and we might as well make the best of it and live in peace and harmony."

However, the other camps had a lot of problems. I think one of the biggest problems was the fact that Japanese people are very class conscious, very, very class conscious. If you come from a samurai type of family, you're far above, way above in your attitudes, your way of thinking, and various things like that. It makes you so far above the average person that you look down your noses at them. And then you have the laboring farmers, real stoop laborers who do nothing but squat down and work the earth. Then you take all of these various classes of people--still basically the same Japanese--and you throw them all into one confined area. You're bound to have some kind of friction.


Mitchell

I see. But these were most likely with the adult population. What about the children?


Ishii

The young children, the young people didn't have this problem. "People are people, we're here to stay for a long time. We don't know what the government is going to do to us, but while we're here, let's make the best of it," they thought. They went to the schools and social affairs. There are many young people who went through this whole evacuation phrase and say, "It was the best years of my life. I had the most fun in those three years that we spent behind barbed wire," because they were carefree. They had not a worry in their lives because they had a roof over their heads, they didn't have to cook, wash dishes, clean house, or work for a salary. The government took care of everything, and if you didn't have clothes, the government would even furnish you clothes. So some of those younger people, kids who were in grammar school, junior high, and high school, during those evacuation years, really had the best years of their lives. A lot of kids met their future husbands-to-be in these camps, so for many people the evacuation does not hold any bitterness.

But for people like ourselves, who were older, who had to share the responsibilities, the heartaches, the hurt, and had to stand by so helplessly watching what was happening to our parents and brothers who were being sent overseas--it's the older people who


80
are bitter. I didn't consider myself that old, really; I was only twenty-one at the time of the evacuation, but I aged a lot, too. Of course, thirty years have elapsed between then and now. But even during the evacuation years, I remember being very bitter with very, very mixed emotions about the whole thing. I couldn't be happy about the evacuation, in spite of the fact that I was married in the camps. I wasn't happy about the marriage; it's a hell of a way to spend a honeymoon.


Mitchell

Right.


Ishii

Ten days on a stinking train.


Mitchell

And then the barracks.


Ishii

Rickety old train, ten days with no place to sleep. We were in straight hard chairs, so crowded, and then arrived at that desolate, remote place in Wyoming. We got off that train and looked up there at the camp that was to be our home for the next--I don't know how many months--and most of the people who got off the train shed tears like you've never seen before. This is one of the reasons why so many people refuse to talk about their evacuation experiences, because it brings all of these terrible, terrible emotional memories back to them. Many people can't talk about it--even myself. Many times I have trouble talking about certain incidents about the evacuation. The time my uncle died in Heart Mountain, Wyoming, is an example. My father's youngest brother came from Japan as a young boy, just at the time World War I was going full tilt. He, not having any knowledge of the English language, volunteered to fight for this country. He went with the Painbow Division to France, fought and came back, and gained his citizenship. He always held that over my father, saying "Aha, you may have been here in America before I came and you may be older than me, but I am an American citizen. And America will always be closer to me than it is to you." Yet, at the outbreak of the war, the fact that he was an American citizen and had fought for this country made no difference to this government. They interned him, his wife, and his three little children, innocent children. They were interned at Heart Mountain, and on January 21, 1943 he had a heart attack and died. That was one of the most tragic times of my life, and I wasn't even that close to my uncle. I knew him; had been to his home; knew my aunt, and I knew my cousins and all. But just the fact that he was an American citizen, an immigrant who came and gained his American citizenship . . .


Mitchell

And had been so proud of it.


Ishii

And was so very, very proud. He was so proud to wear his Veterans of Foreign Wars' uniform, put that little hat over his forehead and march in the parades and things like that. And then to see him die in the camp, it really broke me up. That's when I said, "Where is the justice? This is my country, just as it was his


81
country." These are the injustices. I've always sworn that some-day someone should write a book about my uncle; someone should write a book about my family, my father, my mother, you know.


Mitchell

That would be very interesting.


Ishii

All these various things. Many attempts have been made by many people. Various people have tried, and it just gets too elongated. They don't know where to start, and so it has never been done properly.


Mitchell

How long were you and you husband in Heart Mountain?


Ishii

I think, we were in Heart Mountain just about two years, because we arrived in September, 1942 and we left in April, 1944.


Mitchell

Where did you go when you left?


Ishii

We went to Chicago.


Mitchell

What were the circumstances of your leaving?


Ishii

Well, there were some very peculiar circumstances. Before we even left Heart Mountain permanently, my husband, a bunch of his friends, and I left Heart Mountain to go to the small town out of Billings, Montana, to top sugar beets. This was when the government and the people on the outside realized that all the young people had fled the country and gone to the big cities to work in defense plants or had gone into the service. Who was there to harvest the crops?


Mitchell

So they decided they had a ready source in the camps.


Ishii

They recruited us to go to these various farms and top sugar beets, which we did. Then I came back from that, and my daughter was born in Heart Mountain, in June, 1943. Then in 1944 when I was going to have another baby, I said, "I don't want the second child born in the camp and I would like to leave." So the government, at that time, realized that they had made a big mistake in rounding us all up. It was costing the government a lot more than they could afford to keep us behind barbed wire, so they were encouraging us to leave the camps. So they told us, "If you know anyone on the outside who would be willing to vouch for you and can guarantee a place for you to stay and can help you find a job, then you may get a release to go out from the camps, provided you do not go back to the West Coast." At that time the West Coast was still closed to the Japanese. We had friends in Chicago, and they were writing to us in camp saying, "Chicago is a real night life kind of a town. If you come to Chicago, I'm sure you could get together an orchestra of your own, get into the musicians' union, and find a job. So you can come out here, and you can stay with us in our basement apartment until we find a place for you." So we asked permission from the WRA for a release and they said, "Yes." They


82
gave us a one-way ticket to Chicago and twenty-five dollars.


Mitchell

To get you started?


Ishii

That was it, and that was our goodbye to the camp.


Mitchell

Did you find any racial discrimination when you went to Chicago?


Ishii

No, in Chicago we didn't have any problems. It was amazing, because we had expected . . . I mean we were told that, "People will be after you with sticks and stones." Well, for one thing, by the time we went out to Chicago, there were quite a few Japanese there already. They had all gotten good jobs and were all in universities. The Japanese had a very good reputation in Chicago. All the manufacturers and people in industry and places like that were saying, "Boy, we never saw such good workers, such fine workers. We'll hire a Japanese anytime over any other kind of people." So there were jobs to be had, and our biggest problem was housing. But we were used to the worst kind of living possible.


Mitchell

Anything was better than living in camp.


Ishii

So we thought nothing of living in walk-up tenement buildings; we thought nothing of living in rat-infested basement apartments-- and exactly that.


Mitchell

How long did you stay in Chicago?


Ishii

I stayed in Chicago until the fall of 1946. I decided I had seen too many winters. I like the California winters much better, so we decided to come back.


Mitchell

Where did you go when you came back? Did you move to Los Angeles?


Ishii

Yes, we came back to Los Angeles and joined my family at Roger Young Village. Then in September, 1947 my father came back from Crystal City, so our whole family was back in the place where we had originally started, Los Angeles.


Mitchell

What was the attitude of the people here on the West Coast to the returning Japanese?


Ishii

For us there was no problem because we were formerly from Los Angeles; we knew the people. Our only problem was we could not go back to our own house. The house that we had lived in on Thirty-eighth Street was not available to us when we came back, but we talked to the landlady, the Mexican family that owned the property. They wanted us to come back so badly. They were so happy to see us; they came and embraced my mother.

Mrs. de la Puente never spoke any English, but she knew when it was the first of every month, and in spite of the fact that she could never speak English, she was there with her little receipt


83
book. When we were forced to leave our home there, the de la Puentes were very, very nice. They helped us; they asked if they could store some of our things for us. They promised us that, if we ever came back, the house was always ours to rent again because we had taken such good care of it. We had done such a gorgeous job with the yard and kept the house in very good condition. We had painted the interior. We had lived in that house for eighteen years, so it was their livelihood, the fact that we were living in their house. So they were real happy to have us come back. But at the time we came back the government had frozen the business of housing and things. The people that were living in the house had a lease on the house because they worked for the government, and the government would not allow the de la Puentes to throw them out. So until their lease had expired, they could not be made to move.

In the meantime, we lived out at Roger Young Village, and it was while we were living there that my mother had a heart attack and died soon after my father had come back to us. After my mother died, the de la Puentes felt so badly because my mother never got a chance to come back and live in their house. They had really wanted my mother to live there. When they found out that my mother had died, they said, "The people's lease is almost up now, and in another two months you will be able to come back to your house." So two months after my mother died they called us and told us that the house was now available. The people had moved out, they'd gone back to Oklahoma or wherever they came from. So we went back to take a look at our house, and it was terribly run-down. They had painted the bathroom black and yellow enamel, yet, high gloss enamel, and they had painted a couple of the bedrooms purple and orange. They had painted various rooms such nightmarish colors that we told the landlord, "We'd like to come back to this house, but it has to be completely renovated. It will take us at least three months to get it into condition." So all of us pitched in, my brothers, sisters, and myself.


Mitchell

Were you all planning to move back to the house as a family?


Ishii

Oh, yes. It was going to be our family house, and we all came back to the house everyday after work and school. Anyone who had time would go to the house and start scraping off all this paint. We used a torch and a spatula to scrape off the paint.


Mitchell

Acetylene torch?


Ishii

Yes, and we used sandpaper, blocks, everything imaginable, solutions of all types to get all this paint off, so we could repaint and redo the whole house before we moved back. Finally by the end of summer, we were able to move back into our old original house. To us that house was just like it was ours, just as if we owned it from the very beginning.


Mitchell

You had lived in it for so long.



84
Ishii

My little sister was raised in it, and here she was able to go back there and graduate from high school from the same old house that she had started in.


Mitchell

Were you working at that time?


Ishii

Yes, I was working in the credit approval department at Bullocks, Wilshire.


Mitchell

When did you get interested in the Japanese American Citizens League [JACL]?


Ishii

My older sister had always been active in the JACL. My oldest brother Buddy was very active in the JACL before the war started. In fact, the JACL sponsored him as a lecturer. He would go from chapter to chapter throughout the country to speak and lecture on his experiences of the Shanghai incident, the fall of Hangchow, Peking, and all these various places. They were very, very much interested, being Asian, in what was happening in Asia. Actually, Buddy was the first of my family to be involved in the JACL. My father was always a member even though he wasn't a citizen. And then my youngest brother Edison became involved. In fact, he was the first one in our family to become a chapter president. He was president of the East Los Angeles Chapter many years ago, and he served as president of, I think it's called, the Bay Area Community Chapter in San Francisco. He has served on the district board, and he has been very active in the JACL for many years.


Mitchell

So it was kind of a family heritage that you grew up with.


Ishii

I had been a member of the JACL for at least twenty years before I really went into it wholeheartedly and decided that I wanted to be involved.


Mitchell

Well, Mrs. Ishii, on behalf of Betty Mitson, myself and the entire Japanese American Oral History Project at CSUF, thank you very much for your careful and considerate attention to our questions.



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88

Index

  • Amache, CO, see Granada War Relocation Center
  • Americanization, 44, 70
    • of Japanese names, 50
  • American Red Cross, 59, 69
  • Asia, 84
  • Asian Americans, 41, 49, 74, 84
  • Billings, MT, 71
  • Bismarck, ND, see U.S. Dept. of Justice
  • Buddhism, 40, 60
  • California, State of, 45, 47, 52
    • resettlement in, 71, 82
  • Camp Savage, MN, see U.S. Army, military intelligence
  • Caucasians, 52, 57, 77
    • in China, 75
    • in Japan, 40
    • in Salvation Army, 49
  • CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps), see Griffith Park, Los Angeles, CA
  • Chicago, IL, 71
  • China, 41, 75
  • Chinese Americans, 41, 49
  • Christianity, 40
  • Citizenship
  • Clothing business, 47
  • Crystal City, TX, see U.S. Dept. of Justice
  • de la Puente, Mrs., 82, 83
  • Depression (the Great), 46, 47
  • Discrimination
    • see Racial Discrimination; Religious discrimination
  • Education
  • English language, 44, 45, 58, 71, 73, 82
    • as occupational advantage, 42, 80
    • taught at missionary school, 40, 41, 42, 48, 55
  • Evacuation, 52, 59, 61, 75, 79, 80
  • Executive Order 9066, 62
  • FBI, 52, 55
  • Floral business, 46-47
  • Fort Missoula, MT, see U.S. Dept. of Justice 442nd Regimental Combat Team, see U.S. Army France, 74-80
  • Granada War Relocation Center, 65, 66, 70, 72, 79
  • Great Northern Railway, 41, 42
  • Griffith Park, Los Angeles, CA, 71
  • Gripsholm, 70
  • Hattiesburg, MS., 74
  • Heart Mountain War Relocation Center, WY, 70, 78, 81
  • Housing
    • in Chicago, IL, 82

    • 89
    • in Los Angeles, CA, 82-83
  • Immigration, 39, 42, 43, 51, 61
    • recruitment by family, 43
  • Import-export business, 42, 43, 60
  • Internment camps, see U.S. Dept. of Justice
  • Ishii, Amy Uno
  • Issei, 42, 59
  • Italian Americans, 46, 57
  • Japan, 44, 75, 77-78
    • attack on Pearl Hartor, 55, 56
    • cultural change, 41
    • deportation to, 69-70
    • education in, see Education
    • exporting to, 40
    • falconry in, 41
    • Kanazawa, 40
    • religious discrimination in, 40
    • Russo-Japanese War, 41
    • Sendai, 39
    • see also Citizenship
  • Japanese, 40, 57, 76
  • Japanese American Citizens League (JACL), 84
  • Japanese Americans
    • affluence of, 43
    • businesses, 62
      • clothing, 47

      • 90
      • fishing, 60
      • floral, 46, 47
      • import-export, 42, 43
    • citizenship, see Citizenship
    • class conflicts, 79
    • communities, 41, 44, 46, 47, 60, 63, 65, 66
    • culture, 44
      • Japanese name, use of, 40, 41
      • picture bride system, 44
    • economic losses, 63
    • evacuation, see Evacuation
    • first generation, see Issei
    • from Hawaii, 67, 74
    • "generation gap," 41
    • internment, see Issei
    • "loyalty questionnaire," 72
    • recreation, 48-49
    • relocation, 71, 81, 82-83
    • resettlement, 71, 81, 82, 83
      • in Japan, 76
    • second generation, see Nisei
    • third generation, see Sansei
  • Japanese army, 75, 76, 77
    • in China, 75
    • prisoner of war camps, 75-76
  • Japanese Salvation Army, 49
  • Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Church of, 46
  • Kawakita, "Meatball," 77
  • Little Tokyo, Los Angeles, CA, 64, 66
  • Lordsburg, NM, see U.S. Dept. of Justice
  • Los Angeles, CA, 47, 48, 49, 55, 56, 64, 66, 82
    • city college, 54
  • Mail order business, 68
  • Merrill's Marauders, see U.S. Army
  • Mexican Americans, 82
  • Mormon Tabernacle, see Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints, Church of
  • Native Americans, 49
  • Naturalization, see U.S. Dept. of Immigration
  • Nisei, 41, 59, 62, 72, 76, 78
    • in American military service, 61, 67, 69, 71, 72, 73-74, 79
    • in Japanese military service, 76, 77
    • unaffected by evacuation, 79
  • Nishi, Mr., 47
  • North American Mercantile Co. (NAMCO), 42, 43
  • Oakland, CA, 42, 43
  • Pacific Rose Co., 47
  • Pearl Harbor, bombing of, 55-56, 57, 60
  • Philippines, 73, 74, 76, 77
  • Prisoner of war camps, see Japanese army; U.S. Army
  • Racial discrimination
    • expected in Chicago, 82
    • in San Francisco, 43
    • in schools, 53
  • Racial integration, 82
  • Racial prejudice
    • as a result of Pearl Harbor, 56, 63
    • in Salvation Army, 49
    • in schools, 53
    • in U.S. Navy, 73-74
  • Railroad labor, 41, 42, 44
  • Rainbow Division, see U.S. Army
  • Red Cross, see American Red Cross
  • Religion, see specific religion, e.g., Buddhism
  • Religious discrimination in Japan, 40
  • Richmond, CA, 43
  • Rikkyo University, Japan, 78
  • Roger Young Village, Los Angeles, CA, 71, 82, 83
  • Sacramento, CA, 52
  • Salt Lake City, UT, 39, 46, 47-48, 52
  • Salvation Army of America, 48-49
  • Samurai, 41, 45, 79
    • traditional name, 50
  • San Francisco, CA, 42, 43, 49, 84

  • 91
  • San Marino, CA, 55, 56, 60
  • San Pedro, CA Japanese American community, 63, 65
  • Sansei, 41
  • Santa Anita Assembly Center, 59, 66, 68, 69
    • arrival at, 64
    • FBI at, 70
    • living conditions at, 65
  • Santa Fe, NM, see U.S. Dept. of Justice
  • Seattle, WA, 41, 69
  • Segregation, see Racial segregation
  • Shanghai incident, 75, 84
  • Terminal Is., CA, 60
    • Japanese American community, 63, 65
  • United Floral Assoc., 46
  • United States of America, 40, 45, 55, 67, 74, 75, 77
  • Univ. of Hawaii, 74
  • Uno, George Kazumaro, Jr., (Buddy), 46, 50, 74, 84
    • birth place, 43
    • citizenship, loss of, 75-76
    • death, 76, 77-78
    • education, 75
    • family in Japan, 77-78
    • Japanese army service, 76
    • reporter in China, 75, 76
    • resettlement in Japan, 77
    • U.S. prisoner of war, 76-77
  • Uno, George Kumemaro, Sr., 39, 48, 50, 84
  • Uno, Mrs., 40, 42, 46, 48, 59, 71, 72, 73
    • attitudes toward
      • Americanization, 45, 51, 73
      • dual citizenship, 51
      • Pearl Harbor, bombing of, 56
      • picture bride system, 44
    • Christian background, 43
    • death, 45, 83
    • education, 40, 55
    • evacuation, 65, 69, 70
    • immigration, 39, 43-44, 45
    • marriage, 39, 43, 45, 61
  • U.S. Army, 58, 61, 67, 69, 71, 72, 77
    • 442nd Regimental Combat Team, 74
    • Merrill's Marauders, 73, 76
    • military intelligence, 73
    • military police (MP), 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63-64, 79
    • prisoner of war camp, 76-77
    • Rainbow Division, 80
  • U.S. Constitution, 70
  • U.S. Dept. of Agriculture, 55

  • 92
  • U.S. Dept. of Immigration, 45
  • U.S. Dept. of Justice
    • internment camps, 54-55
      • Bismarck, ND, 69, 70
      • Crystal City, TX, 70
      • as "family camp," 70, 71
      • Fort Missoula, MT, 59, 60, 69
      • Lordsburg, NM., 69
      • Santa Fe, NM, 69
  • U.S. government, 60, 62, 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 75, 79, 80, 81, 83
  • U.S. Navy
    • Medical Corps, 74
    • segregation in, 73-74
  • Veterans Administration hospital, 77
  • Veterans of Foreign Wars, 80
  • War Relocation Authority (WRA), 66, 68, 81
  • Wartime Civilian Control Agency (WCCA), 64
  • West Coast, U.S., 47, 60, 62, 71, 81, 82
  • World War I, 43, 45, 46, 48, 80
  • World War II, 43, 48, 51, 54, 77

An Interview with
Sue Kunitomi Embrey
Conducted by David A. Hacker and David J. Bertagnoli
on August 24 and November 15, 1973
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Nisei Activist
O.H. 1366

©1978
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

94

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


95

97

Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     Sue Kunitomi Embrey
  • Interviewer:
  •     Arthur A. Hansen, David A. Hacker and David J. Bertagnoli
  • Subject:
  •     Nisei Activist
  • Date:
  •     August 24 and November 15, 1973
Hansen

This is an interview with Sue Kunitomi Embrey for the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Oral History Project, on August 24, 1973 and November 15, 1973, at the Asian American Studies Center of the University of California, Los Angeles. The interviewers are Arthur A. Hansen, David A. Hacker, and David J. Bertagnoli.

Could we begin the interview, Mrs. Embrey, by finding out some information about your personal and family background?


Embrey

I was born in Los Angeles, California, on January 6, 1923. My parents came from the same village in Okayama, which is in the southern part of Japan.


Hansen

Were your parents married in Japan before immigrating to this country?


Embrey

No, my mother was a picture bride.


Hansen

But had he seen her before he had seen her picture?


Embrey

Yes, he had seen her. They were sort of related. A couple days ago, when I was visiting my mother, she sat down and for some reason started to tell me her genealogy. She said, "Your father's father came from this place and my father came from there. And originally our hon-ke which is the home base, is the same." So I guess they were distant, maybe second or third, cousins. They both had the same last name; probably, she said, they came from the same family tree.


Hansen

Sort of like the Roosevelts, Franklin and Eleanor, in terms of their relationship.


Embrey

That could be. A young boy about fourteen came over about a month


98
ago with a group from Japan. My mother saw his name in the paper, and it had Kunitomi on it. So she went there to see if he might be related to her, and the boy said that he was from another branch and was not related to her at all. But they had the same last name.


Hansen

Are there very many Kunitomis in Los Angeles now?


Embrey

No. We're the only family. We always were the only family. My father was the only one of all the relatives.


Hansen

So if you see a Kunitomi in Los Angeles or in southern California, you can pretty well be sure it's part of your clan.


Embrey

Right. (laughter)


Hansen

Do you remember when it was that your father came to the United States?


Embrey

No, not really, except at one time he said that he had been turned down for the Japanese army just before the Russo-Japanese War, because he was too short. He actually came here before the war started.


Hansen

So he was here sometime before 1905.


Embrey

Yes, right. He came to Hawaii first.


Hansen

About how long was he in Hawaii?


Embrey

I'm not sure. He may have been there several years, because he said that all he had was his bedroll and the clothes on his back, and was there working on some of the plantations. Then he came to San Francisco and later to Los Angeles.


Hansen

So he was part of a contract labor group, then, when he came to Hawaii?


Embrey

I think so. Yes, I'm pretty sure.


Hansen

Then he came first to San Francisco?


Embrey

Yes. I don't know how long he lived there or what he did. He worked his way down to Los Angeles, probably working as an itinerary migrant worker in agricultural areas.


Hansen

Do you know approximately when he came to Los Angeles?


Embrey

It was around 1910, 1911, or so. Then my mother came over.


Hansen

About when was he married to your mother?


Embrey

Let's see, my oldest brother is about fifteen years older than I am,


99
and he was born before World War I. So they must have been married around 1907 or 1908.


Hansen

How many children were there in the family?


Embrey

There were eight altogether. I was number six. I was the second daughter. I had four brothers and one sister above me. My Japanese name is an indication of how my father felt about a big family, because the character means "last child." That was going to be the end! It turned out that I have another younger sister and brother. My mother said that was why he picked that character for my name. And Sue is an English version of Sueko.


Hansen

Do you have any idea what your father was doing occupationally at the time you were born?


Embrey

He was running a small business which he called a transfer and moving company. A lot of that was involved in Little Tokyo, where they moved people from one house to another, or into the city from the country. Toward the end of 1937 and 1938, many people started going back to Japan. Those who had come as immigrants worked to return home because of a real possibility of a war between the United States and Japan. So my father did a lot of packing and shipping and taking crates and boxes to San Pedro Harbor, where the Japanese ships came in. Many people took their American-born children with them. Toward the end of 1938, a week before Christmas, in fact, my father was returning home after delivering some flowers to a wedding out in the San Fernando Valley. We never found out what happened, but evidently the panel truck he was driving overturned, and he died of a skull fracture.


Hansen

So he died before the war.


Embrey

He died toward the end of 1938. So that left my mother with all these children. My two older brothers were working. But the rest of us were all in school.


Hansen

So you had your finances curtailed at that point then?


Embrey

Oh, yes. So she had to go out and . . . My father was not a very good businessman. He left a lot of uncollected bills, and she went out and collected them. She would say, "You owe me this. My husband is dead. I've got to take care of my kids." This was the first time my mother actually left the house to do anything in terms of business, because she had been very involved in raising the kids.


Hansen

You mentioned the fact that a lot of people were, owing to the urgency of war, going back to Japan. There seems to have been a heavy traffic back and forth of Japanese Americans between here and Japan during the prewar period. It seems like a long and expensive trip. I wonder how that was financed.



100
Embrey

I don't know. It was an expensive trip, and I don't think people had much money. We lived in a two-story house, and the people upstairs were a young couple that had come from Japan and had two daughters. When we first moved there, we didn't even know that they had any children, because the two daughters were being raised in Japan. The children came back just before the war. They acted like Japanese immigrants; they spoke no English, their life-style was very strange to us. Both of the parents were working and they must have sent money back. I never asked my father how much it cost. I sometimes used to go down with him to the harbor just to watch the departing ships. They used to throw colored tapes, and the band would play. It was kind of fun. Toward the end of 1937 it was getting so I was going to the harbor because a lot of my friends were leaving with their parents. They didn't really want to go, but they had no choice. They took a lot of stuff with them that they thought they couldn't get in Japan. My father used to pack and crate things in the garage next to our house, and I used to watch him. You know, they'd even take things like washing machines, ironing boards, and big washtubs. You just wondered where they got the money. I don't know if all of them were in business, but they might have sold their businesses and collected the money to finance their trip, because I'm sure it cost a fortune.


Hansen

Did any of your brothers or sisters or yourself go to Japan before the war?


Embrey

No. My brothers went later with the occupation troops.


Hansen

That was the first time they'd been there?


Embrey

Yes, that was the first time they'd been there.


Hansen

And your parents didn't get a chance to go back?


Embrey

My mother didn't get a chance to go back until 1955, when her Buddhist church group decided to take a tour of all the Buddhist temples and then kind of have time for them to visit relatives. But that was her first trip in forty-six years. At that time her brother and her sister were still alive. Then she went back again in 1965, and at that time both her brother and sister were gone. So she came back and she said, "Well, I won't go back anymore." And she applied for United States citizenship. She's eighty-five years old! She applied for it, because she said, "It's no use for me to go back there. I have nothing there now." When my brothers went to Japan at the end of World War II, one was with MacArthur's group, and he was doing interpreting work. The other one, although he knew some Japanese, had volunteered for the paratroopers. He was with the 101st Battalion up in northern Japan where they had never seen any other people; they actually had few tourists or visitors in that part of Japan, So he was a real curiosity. He looked Japanese, he spoke Japanese, but he was wearing a United States Army uniform. Yet he did all the things, observed all the customs such as taking his shoes off and so on. They


101
said he knew what to do, but they were still a little curious about him.


Hansen

Have you ever been to Japan?


Embrey

I went last year.


Hansen

For the first time?


Embrey

For the first time! We were a real curiosity, because my kids are very tall, and my husband is blond and he's very tall, too. We were all jabbering in English, which I think surprised a lot of people. My cousins were always bringing out chairs for us to sit on. They were making reservations for us in restaurants and hotels. We kept saying, "We want to live like you do. We want to stay in a Japanese inn, and we want to eat Japanese food." They were surprised that we used chopsticks. You know, they were surprised that our kids loved rice and tea and were willing to try the food. At least my kids were familiar with some of the things that they were being fed. They wouldn't eat a lot of the raw fish and stuff like that, which I don't either, but they ate cooked fish.


Hansen

Your relatives in Japan presumed an awful lot about your acculturation, then, didn't they?


Embrey

They were really surprised. Even my cousins said, "We didn't know that you ate with chopsticks."


Hansen

Where did you go to school in Los Angeles when you were a girl?


Embrey

Well, I lived east of Little Tokyo and there was a little grammar school, the Amelia Street School, that went from kindergarten to the eighth grade and about 90 percent were Japanese kids. The rest of the students came from a few Chinese families and some Mexican American families. It was kind of an unusual school, and I guess I have always thought of school as being such a pleasant place. My kids tell me it isn't, and I am a little surprised. But we had a very good staff, I think, and they were always doing things. People say that things like Chicano studies or black studies are innovations in education. We had all that. You know, they used to bring Indians, and they'd have dances and we'd ask them questions. This was an elementary school. On May 5 there was Cinco de Mayo and Japanese Boys' Day, and they used to have people come in from the community or have kids from the school to do these programs. We actually had a cultural program all year round that emphasized the different ethnic groups. This was something that I found very unusual. I went back and asked the principal about it after she retired. That was in 1950 or 1951, right after my husband and I were married and we were still in touch with her. She said, "Well, the school board in Los Angeles had a very progressive board member." And evidently this district was under his jurisdiction, and he was very interested in innovative things, so that by the time this principal was assigned there, she was able to do all these things. Now,


102
her comment to me was that when she was first assigned there--I guess my brothers had already finished grammar school and were in high school--she had never seen such a group of solemn looking kids as she saw at that school. And she went from room to room on her first day, telling stories and funny jokes, hoping she'd get some smiles out of us. She said, "You were such a serious bunch of kids." She said it was really amazing compared to another school where she had been the principal.


Hansen

What was the name of the principal?


Embrey

Her name was Mrs. Mable Colerick. The Amelia Street School is now gone. It is now a Los Angeles Police Department parking lot. I think it was famous at one time for having been the school that Governor Earl Warren went to. His family lived in that area.


Hansen

Given his later role in the Japanese American Evacuation, it's ironic that Earl Warren went there, isn't it?


Embrey

Yes, it is. Mrs. Colerick kept in touch with just about all of the students. And when war broke out, the school closed down because there was not enough of a student population when that area was evacuated. So she was assigned somewhere else. But she was, I think, one of the few innovative principals around.


Hansen

Were most of the staff Caucasians?


Embrey

Yes, they were almost, in fact, all of them were. And the one thing I remember is very little turnover of teachers. They were there all the way through. They had my brothers, my sister, and my younger brother, and they remembered our family. They remembered all the families that went through the school. It was not a large school, I think there was maybe a couple hundred kids altogether. But I think the teachers there had a big influence on the students. And I guess it was almost a segregated school because of the way that the housing pattern was there.


Hansen

What was your particular neighborhood like? What was Little Tokyo like at that time?


Embrey

Well, let's see. My block had a Japanese language school which, I guess, occupied half a block from one end to the other. The rest of the families were Japanese. And across the street there was an old Japanese hospital, and most of the people who lived around there were people who worked in the hospital--nurses and administrators. There was an old American Express garage and a factory that made caskets. The rest of the blocks around us, I would say within four or five blocks, were almost all Japanese. We had the only Japanese funeral parlor, the Fukui Mortuary, two blocks away; the Japanese hospital; the Japanese language school; Amelia Street School; and then on the other side of the grammar school, I think, were some Chinese families and Mexican American families. But living in between


103
there were Mexican families and most of them were, I would say, maybe third-generation.


Hansen

Was most of your social activity, then, carried on with people from the Japanese American community?


Embrey

Yes, most of our social activities centered around the Japanese school that we went to. We spent an hour every day after school. For instance, the lower grades' classes started after they were out at two o'clock and ours started around four o'clock and went on to six.


Hansen

Was it exclusively a language school as the name suggests, or were there other things related to it?


Embrey

No, there were other things that went on. We had an annual picnic and we had other cultural activities. They had people on a visit from Japan who might come and speak to the group.


Hansen

Did you resent going to it like some Nisei?


Embrey

Well, I went all the way through, almost to the twelfth grade. My mother says I was the only one who seemed to have any interest in the school. I finally dropped out around the middle part of that year, because I was very involved in high school and I would attend maybe twice a week. But I had a teacher who was bilingual—I think I was about a year older than a lot of the others kids in that class—and he said to me that he thought that my direction in life was going different from the others, that he didn't think I would be too happy within the Japanese community. Now where he got this impression, I don't know. But he said to me, "I don't think that you are intellectually tuned in with these kids in this school."


Hansen

This seems ironic since you were the one who was spending so much time in this language school.


Embrey

So much time, right. And I still remember all the characters. We had cultural activities that were designed around the annual picnics; they would have programs at the school, and they'd have movies for the kids. Of course, a lot of the movies were American movies, not exclusively Japanese ones. But I remember they had speakers. We used to have speech contests to see how well you could speak in Japanese. We had writing with the Japanese brush, not a lot of it, but we tried.


Hansen

Did the Japanese language teachers have status within the community?


Embrey

Yes, they did. You see, before the war, anything that happened in the community was community business. If there were any fights between groups of kids, the Japanese school principal, the chamber of commerce people, the church groups, and the leaders always got together to try and solve it. I remember a group of Chinese kids had a fight after school with a group of Japanese kids over the war


104
in China--I think Japan had sent in troops--and there was an uproar in the Japanese community. I remember the language school principal and all of them getting together and having a meeting to decide who was the instigator and what they could do to prevent things like this. First of all, they didn't want the police involved, and they didn't want the kids to get the reputation that they were rowdies or the "yo-go-re" type. That was the common term that was used. One of my brothers was involved in a fight in which he was very badly cut. He had gone in to help someone else. The fight was between a Kibei, who had just come from Japan, and a young boy who was almost like a brother to us and who lived on the same block. His father was a migrant worker and his mother had died so this old couple had adopted him and we were almost like one family. He had gone to a restaurant to eat and this Kibei had made some crack like, "What are you staring at me for?" They went out in the street and started fighting and the Kibei pulled a knife. And my brother, in trying to pull our friend away so he wouldn't get cut, was cut himself in the process. He was taken to the hospital and then, of course, they had to make a police report. It happened at a time when the Japanese Chamber of Commerce was having a meeting and all the leaders were coming out of this building, and found this fight going on clear out in the street. The very next morning my mother got a call from the Japanese school principal. He wanted to know all the details. They asked her if she knew the name of the boy that had pulled the knife, because they were going to talk to his parents about restraining him. They even talked later on about the possibility of sending him back to Japan so he would not be a problem in the community.


Hansen

Did you feel that the Kibei as a whole were a problem in the community?


Embrey

Well, a Kibei is a person who is born in the United States of Japanese parents, but sent to Japan and raised, possibly by grandparents and uncles. So basically, their education is Japanese and, I think, their outlook is Japanese. It's kind of sad, because I think a lot of them never made the adjustment, although I know some who did adjust well. I know one fellow who came here before the war who went into the Army. He was bilingual, so he served with the military intelligence, and I guess it never occurred to him to do otherwise. I don't know why unless he had experiences in Japan that made him decide that he would rather stay here.


Hansen

Were they frowned upon by most of the Nisei?


Embrey

They were considered odd, and I guess it was mostly because of their language problem. They really didn't make an adjustment into the community.


Hansen

I've read somewhere that they oftentimes formed their own groups, their own organizations. Do you recall any Kibei groups or clubs?


Embrey

No, I don't recall any, although I knew some Kibei when I was going to high school. There was a group of kids that always went around together. I don't think they formed any kind of a club. There were,


105
I think, a couple of dance bands that played Japanese music. Most of them were Kibei.


Hansen

I even read somewhere that in Los Angeles they formed their own chapter of the JACL [Japanese American Citizens League].


Embrey

Is that right?


Hansen

Yes, prior to the war, but they later disbanded, I believe.


Embrey

I didn't know that. I think they actually constituted two groups. One group was pretty radical and the other was not. They were generally fairly conservative and stayed within their own social group. I remember there was talk about one of my Japanese school teachers who was called Aka or "Red"; he was with a group of Kibei who were anti-Japanese militarists and were against the direction Japan was taking. I think they published a newspaper. But they were also a very small group. They may have been older Kibei who had come back earlier than the more recent ones. I think a lot of the ones who came back just before World War II were pretty lost. They really didn't have time to make the adjustment before the war happened.


Hansen

And the next thing they knew, they were being interned.


Embrey

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

You were talking a little bit about how anything that arose in the community was really a community issue, something that caused the leaders to get their collective heads together to talk about. I was wondering who were the leaders of the Los Angeles Japanese American community? What sort of names pop into your mind when I ask a question like that? Who did you think of as a leader when you were growing up?


Embrey

Well, I would say like the Japanese language school principal was a man named Shimano, and I don't know what happened to him. I know he was picked up on December 7 and I heard he had been sent to North Dakota and different camps. I don't know whether he was released earlier or had to stay in camp through the whole war. He had two sons, and his wife also taught in the Japanese school. She played the piano. I recall talking to Mrs. Colerick about Mr. Shimano. She confessed to me that he had asked for a letter of recommendation from her so he could be released. She told me that she just couldn't say that he was not a spy or a saboteur. She said she didn't know whether he would stand by the U.S. as he was not an American citizen. She said she just couldn't give him a letter of recommendation. This evidently bothered her for she mentioned it several times during later visits I made to her. Frankly, I was shocked to hear that because both schools worked closely together. The student population was pretty much the same. Mr. Shimano represented to me the best model of a leader, a loyal and conscientious citizen. While he was never able to become an American citizen, he insisted that all his Japanese


106
school pupils respect the flags of both countries, that we try in every way possible to be good citizens. There was one incident I remember every once in awhile even now. Some children had gone into one of the school closets and scattered a box of flags all over the floor. The flags were used each year for our school picnics held in Elysian Park. When Mr. Shimano found the flags all scattered, he was furious. He made the entire student body assemble and he gave us a stern lecture about the care of a flag and the respect that we owed to the flag because it was a symbol of a country. He blamed himself for not teaching us properly. He was very strict--a real disciplinarian. When I think of that incident and Mrs. Colerick's action, I just can't understand Mrs. Colerick. Personally, I would never have questioned his actions. I don't think he would have raised a finger to harm the U.S., although he was technically an "enemy alien." I often wondered what happened to Mr. Shimano. His teachings worked on me, at least the concepts of loyalty, honesty, obligation and responsibility to one's country, family and community. I have strong remnants of all of them. Sometimes they're a heavy burden. There were several Buddhist priests who were community leaders. I don't recall their names right now. And then it seems to me someone told me that the Japanese Chamber of Commerce people were always pretty much involved. I don't know who was the president at that time. Maybe the same people.


Hansen

What about the Japanese Association?


Embrey

I can't recall names. I know in our Okayama-Ken group there were people that my mother used to consult if she had particular problems. She felt she could go to them after my father died. Now what happened to them, I don't know, and I don't recall their names. They are probably the ones on the list of the FBI that were picked up on December 7, 1941, after Pearl Harbor.


Hansen

Who else did you regard as leaders at the time?


Embrey

I imagine the publisher of the papers were probably consulted, the Rafu Shimpo and the Kashu Mainichi. I know the Rafu publisher, H. T. Komai, was a friend of my mother and that my brothers delivered newspapers for the Rafu. I guess Komai was considered sort of a leader in the community, and I know he was arrested on December 7 and his newspaper shut down. And then there were doctors, too, a couple of doctors. Dr. Kuroiwa was practicing, and there was another Japanese doctor who used to be the school doctor and who gave us health exams every year at the Japanese language school. I think maybe Mr. Fukui might have been a leader or considered a leader. First of all, he was a veteran of World War I and got his citizenship that way. His was the only mortuary to serve the Japanese community. My mother said that his father had originally learned the business because people in the community were running into problems with non-Asian mortuaries. His son took over, and now his son has it. So it's now the third generation that has the business. But Mr. Fukui was a member of the American Legion post. It was a post of some kind, and just the World War I veterans used to participate in it. So, I


107
imagine, Mr. Fukui would be considered one of the leaders. And they all sort of intermixed as far as activities within the community.


Hansen

I want to get back to your schooling. You left the elementary school and then I presume you went either to a junior high or high school.


Embrey

Yes, the elementary school was an eight-year school, so I went to a four-year high school. I think Los Angeles City is going back to that system again, because after that they changed to a six-year elementary and then a junior and senior high school. I never went to junior high school, but the four-year high school is Lincoln High School in Highland Park or the Lincoln Heights area. It was predominately composed of Italians and Poles, but there was a small Asian group. I went from ninth grade until I graduated from high school in January of 1941. And there was talk at that time of the war starting.


Hansen

What did you do after you got out of high school?


Embrey

Well, our next door neighbors decided to go back to Japan, and they had a small grocery store. My mother said she had always been business-minded and she would like to take a chance and buy the store from them and run it. I just happened to be the one that was not working. I'd just finished high school, so she said, "Why don't we try it? And after your sister finishes, if you want to do other things maybe you can go into that." So we bought the store in April of 1941, and our neighbors decided to go back to Japan. And of all places, they went back to Hiroshima, with a boy and a girl. The girl had already finished high school and the boy was still in high school, and I think they had a younger daughter. So, we borrowed some money and bought the store, and my mother and I ran it until April of 1942 when we sold it to be evacuated. My brothers were all working and my one brother was going to what was known at that time as Los Angeles Junior College. I sort of ran the store with my mother and so I didn't get back to school at all. Then we were sent to Manzanar, and then from Manzanar I went to Madison, Wisconsin, toward the end of 1943.


Hansen

Let's back up a little bit. I want to cover all of what you've said in greater detail. Now, when you were running the store, this was just at the time of the evacuation. Did the store act as something of a clearinghouse for information about the evacuation? Didn't you have a lot of people coming into the store from the community, thereby allowing you to feel the pulse of the community, so to speak?


Embrey

Well, yes, I guess we did. I'm trying to think of who was around. All of the schoolteachers were gone. They'd been arrested. There were a couple of fathers around the neighborhood who also had been arrested. But for most of the families around then, the fathers were not active in community affairs, so they were not picked up. I guess toward the end we started giving credit because the people just didn't have any money, and we ended up never collecting for


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that. But I remember when they started to post the notices up, some people did come in and ask us to get information out to the community. And we had posters all around the area. I guess they wanted to know what we had found out about different things, and we all sort of tried to get information out to everybody. I guess it was no real organized kind of thing, but it sort of became a place where people came to ask questions.


Hansen

Did you notice a lot of divisiveness within the community itself, as to how they should respond to the kinds of policies that were being enacted relevant to possible evacuation?


Embrey

Yes, the biggest feeling that I think came out was that the JACL was the only organization and that they had sold us out.


Hansen

Were you in the JACL at the time?


Embrey

No, I wasn't and I don't think any of my brothers were either.


Hansen

Who were then prominent JACLers in Los Angeles that you can now recall?


Embrey

At that time? Well, Togo Tanaka, who was English editor of the Rafu Shimpo and Saburo Kido was another one. Tokie Slocum, although I don't know how active he was; he was Japanese, but he had been adopted, I think, by a family named Slocum.


Hansen

Yes, in Minot, North Dakota, I think it was.


Embrey

Yes.


Hansen

Did you know Slocum?


Embrey

No, I never met him.


Hansen

Did you later meet him at Manzanar?


Embrey

No. I understand he was beaten up in Manzanar, but I didn't know him at all. Let's see, who else? Well, the Suski family. Dr. Suski was a doctor, an M.D., and his children were older Nisei. I know his daughter Clara was quite active. She also wrote for the Rafu.


Hansen

Did you know Fred Tayama?


Embrey

I didn't know him, but I think he was active also.


Hansen

Since his family owned a couple of restaurants I was wondering if you might happen to have known him, being in the same general line of business there for awhile.


Embrey

No, no.



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Hansen

Did you know of his cafés?


Embrey

Well, my brother did all the shopping at wholesale markets, so he may have run across him. He may have known him. I didn't know him, no. I think here you run across that generation gap. My brothers were at least ten or twelve years older than I was, so they ran around with a different group of Nisei than I did. I ran around with mostly the younger Nisei.


Hansen

What's the name of the woman who was the first editor of the Manzanar Free Press? I know her surname is Mori.


Embrey

Chiye Mori. She was quite active in the Democractic Club before the war, I think. I don't know whether she was active in JACL or not.


Hansen

About how old was she at the time of the evacuation? Was she a contemporary of yours?


Embrey

No. I would say she was older than I. I used to watch her, because to me she was a very unusual Nisei. I never had come across anyone who could talk about politics and who damned the leaders of our country like she did; I had never heard such talk before! And she had some very liberal ideas which I had never come across, and I used to listen to her a lot.


Hansen

Was she a college graduate?


Embrey

I think so. Either that or she was in college at the time of the evacuation.


Hansen

What was she doing in the community prior to being evacuated to Manzanar?


Embrey

That I don't know.


Hansen

She hadn't had any experience on a newspaper?


Embrey

I had never heard of her before I went to Manzanar. She may have been active in Los Angeles, but I don't know. I understand she was active in the Democractic Club, so she may have been around before the war. I don't know where she's from originally.


Hansen

I've heard it said that there were two factions that were so-called collaborators with the evacuation. You mentioned one already--the JACL. But there was apparently another group of Nisei who, although they shared a similar ideological position with the JACL, were involved in a competitive way for positions at Manzanar. Apparently this non-JACL group arrived earlier at Manzanar and gained most of the political positions before the rest of the internees arrived. Also, I understand the two groups were locked into a preevacuation squabble that carried itself into the camp. In camp they shared the same ideological position--vociferously pro-American--but nonetheless remained relatively aloof from one another. Does this make


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any sense to you at all? Can you think of a group which fits that description?


Embrey

I know of a group which was in Manzanar. I don't know how active they were before the war, because I think in Manzanar the pro-American group did split off into two. I remember the one group wanted an increase in the monthly wages. They fought to try to get some kind of a citizens' council going, and they were all anti-JACL, as I remember. And it seemed to me most of them were quite left of center, in terms of the JACL.


Hansen

Can you think of specific individuals in this left-of-center group?


Embrey

Yes. There was Koji Ariyoshi, who lives in Honolulu now, and Karl Yoneda. And let's see, who were some of the others?


Hansen

Would they be part of that group you would have described as "Red" prior to the war?


Embrey

I guess the people considered them that way. I don't know how active they were. I know that both Karl and Koji were very active in labor unions before the war, trying to get labor unions opened up to minority groups. And I think their ideology was based on the thought that they had to fight fascism first, and they went along with the evacuation as just one of the minor things that had to happen during a war.


Hansen

Would you say they were equally as detested by the Japanese community at Manzanar as the JACL faction?


Embrey

I think so. Yes, because I think some of them were also victims of beatings as well as those who were connected with JACL. But I think that they were not doing anything that was out of line with what they'd been doing before the war.


Hansen

Except that they weren't quite as pro-American before the war, were they? I think their vigorous patriotism in the camp was more or less expedient, wasn't it?


Embrey

I think they felt that they had to go along with the evacuation because there was nothing really that they could do about it. There was no way we could really organize for resistance. It was better to go along with it and then from there go on. Both Koji and Karl volunteered for the military intelligence because they were bilingual. A lot of them did, maybe thirteen or fourteen of them from Manzanar. And they fought in the war, too. I know that this is one of the sore points when you start talking about the draft resisters. You know, they don't want to talk about it either, because they don't want that kind of thing to come out because they felt their first battle was to win against fascism, and whatever happened to them was not as important.


Hansen

They were committed ideologists at the time.



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Embrey

Yes.


Hansen

Now I want to get into your evacuation to Manzanar. Did you go directly to Manzanar from Los Angeles?


Embrey

Yes. When we signed up, we were supposed to go to Santa Anita with everyone else in the Little Tokyo area, but a couple of days before we left a notice came out that those who had relatives in Manzanar could apply to transfer to Manzanar. And my brother had been one of the thousand volunteers that had gone to Manzanar in March, 1942.


Hansen

Do you know what his motivations were for going?


Embrey

Well, I think mostly the idea of adventure, for he was pretty adventuresome, and also the government did mention that those volunteering would be getting union scale wages, which he never collected. He was, let's see, my brother right above me, so he must have been about twenty or twenty-one. And he was always the adventuresome type, and very impulsive. He had a job, but he quit it and went. And I guess part of it was that he felt that if this is going to happen, he might as well get in on the ground floor to see if we could get at least some advantages out of it. So when we left in May--he had gone on March 23--we were supposed to go to Santa Anita first and then we thought we would be transferred to Manzanar. But since we weren't really sure we decided we would all sign up and ask to go to Manzanar. So there was a whole trainload of people that did go to Manzanar. I don't know if they were all related to the volunteers that had gone, but we went because of that.


Hansen

Do you know what date this was?


Embrey

It was May 9, 1942.


Hansen

When you got there, about how many blocks were already functioning?


Embrey

Well, we were assigned to Block 20, so I guess half of the camp was already filled. One whole block was filled with people from Bainbridge Island in Washington. The other block was all the people from Terminal Island in San Pedro.


Hansen

Do you know which blocks those were?


Embrey

They were in the earlier groups, so I don't know whether Block 6 may have been Bainbridge Islanders.


Hansen

I hear the Bainbridge Islanders left the camp because the climate was too bad.


Embrey

They later went to the Minidoka camp in Idaho, because they lived directly across the block in Manzanar where the San Pedro people were, and the two groups of people -- those from Bainbridge and San Pedro--were very different. You know, if anybody wanted to do a sociological study of life-styles . . . well, these two groups were


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so far apart!


Hansen

Where was the San Pedro group in the camp? Do you recall their blocks by any chance?


Embrey

Gee, I don't know. They were situated sort of diagonally from Block 20, so they must have been--let's see, how many blocks there from it? You know, because 13 was directly across from 20, so it must have been 6, 13, and 20 all in a row. So they may have been in like Block 5 in the other end of camp, and then the Bainbridge Island people were almost directly across from them. I didn't know too much about them, but I understood there was a lot of bickering going on between the two groups.


Hansen

The Bainbridge Islanders and . . .


Embrey

And the San Pedro people. You see, the San Pedro group spoke almost all Japanese, and the Bainbridge Islanders spoke almost all English. The Bainbridge Islanders included a lot of college graduates and college students. They were highly intellectual type people, very artistic and rather more interested in that kind of thing. And the San Pedro people were kind of rough. They were fishermen and they lived in their little ingrown community in San Pedro and Terminal Island, and they were almost like a Japanese village.


Hansen

Was it Japanesey because the culture was kept intact or because a lot of Kibei lived there, too?


Embrey

I don't think there were that many Kibei. I think it was because they were isolated from the rest of the Los Angeles community and the rest of the Japanese in Los Angeles.


Hansen

Did you become familiar with the San Pedro community in the prewar years when you went down, say, for the ship farewells? That is, when you'd go down to the harbor, did you have any relatives or associates in San Pedro to visit?


Embrey

No, I didn't. My father would point it out to me, but that was about it. I didn't know anybody from that area until I went to Manzanar.


Hansen

How were the people living there looked upon by people in the Little Tokyo area?


Embrey

They were almost like a subgroup of Japanese.


Hansen

I heard there was a lot of fear of them at Manzanar.


Embrey

There was. Yes, I remember being at a baseball game between two teams, and one team happened to be the San Pedro group and someone in our block had just made a remark. There were some people from San Pedro standing behind her who resented the remark, and that night, after the game, a whole group of San Pedro kids--I guess they were from the San Pedro Yogores or the baseball team, I don't know--came


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through our block and went up to look for her barrack and specifically wanted an apology from her. And they said if she didn't give it, they really were going to go after her. "Well," she said, "what for?" I don't recall that I said anything insulting." Well, to them it was insulting and to her it was nothing.


Hansen

It was typical ballgame banter?


Embrey

Yes. And I remember the next morning everybody was complaining that their lawn grass was really smashed down, so there must have been a large group that came wandering around the block looking for her and asking for an apology.


Hansen

Do you recall the activities of Terminal Islanders at the camp in terms of the jobs they had and whether they figured in the evacuee hierarchy of the camp?


Embrey

No, I don't. There were a few working on the paper, the Manzanar Free Press. I think they were younger Nisei. I guess they worked in various departments. Probably a lot of them worked in things like deliveries--driving the trucks. There were a few who were on the police department. I don't know if any of them were used for their bilingual ability.


Hansen

Were there some who didn't even speak English?


Embrey

There may have been, yes. But most of the ones I met were bilingual. They spoke English fairly well, and they could also speak Japanese.


Hansen

Do you know if the Kibei had anything to do with the San Pedro people because of the commonality, both being, as the Nisei would describe them, "Japanesey"?


Embrey

Japanesey, yes. I don't know. I think the San Pedro people were pretty much to themselves. I know they formed their own baseball teams.


Hansen

Did you find that there was within the camp, then, pretty clear cultural divisions within the subculture?


Embrey

Yes. Yes, I found that that was even more the case after I started doing a lot of reading and talking to people, too. But I could tell it even on the strength of my own observations of people that I saw in Manzanar. I had been pretty much within Little Tokyo. I didn't get out very much as a kid, and I was very curious about the different groups in Manzanar. I guess working on the paper made me a little more aware, too, of some of the thinking of the people. So when I look back on it, I can see where the Bainbridge Islanders would have had a lot of problems with the San Pedro people because of the difference in cultural outlook. And I think this is probably one of the most tragic things of the evacuation. You don't put groups of people together because they're one race, because each group, depending on where they come from, has a very different life-style. I think that


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in Manzanar the biggest difference was between Bainbridge Island and San Pedro, and even San Pedro from the rest of Los Angeles. The people were so different. My mother said when I asked her one time, "Well, even in Japan, fishermen are considered an entirely different group. They're rough. They have to have a lot of courage; they're fighting the seas all the time. You know, their living is very precarious. And their attitude becomes quite different from the attitude of people who work the land."


Hansen

Were there any other groups at Manzanar? I know that at Manzanar about 85 percent of the people were from Los Angeles County and about 70 percent were from Los Angeles City proper. You mentioned Bainbridge Island, can you think of any other areas that were included at Manzanar outside of Los Angeles, people from places other than Los Angeles?


Embrey

I think possibly there were a few people from central California. I don't know how they got there, unless they had relatives in the city who they moved in with.


Hansen

I'm thinking of people like Karl Yoneda. Where was he from at the time? Wasn't he from San Francisco?


Embrey

Karl was from Los Angeles, although he had lived in San Francisco. And I think Koji was in San Francisco at the time, although I think originally he came from Hawaii. There was a small group of Japanese Hawaiians who were stranded here because they were going to school. I met about three nurses that were in nurses' training, and the fellows I met were doing various kinds of drafting work and going to school. And their life-style was quite different. I guess for them, you know, their families were back in Honolulu or different islands, and they knew that they would be able to go back and there was no real concern about what would happen to them. Most of the Hawaiians I knew volunteered for the service.


Hansen

Something should be said, too, about residential areas within Manzanar. A lot of times people refer to it as a "camp" in toto, and I think we've already established that there were radically different groups there, culturally and otherwise. I've heard, too, that there tended to be considerable in-group solidarity among blocks, that it was almost a real community that grew up around each block. Did you find this true of, say, Block 20?


Embrey

I found it true in Block 20. We had some young married couples, and then we had Issei families with young children. I remember that my brother and some of the older ones formed a baseball team and they called themselves the "Hasbeens" because they were mostly in their late twenties and had families. As part of that baseball group, we had weekly dances in the mess hall around the tables when they moved them. And the older men taught us how to do all the social dances. Someone had records and it got to be a weekly thing.


Hansen

Did it start with just the Nisei, the younger people?



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Embrey

Yes, just about all of the younger people. We would have farewell parties for people who were leaving, either to get married or to go in the Army or to relocate. And it became a very organized group.


Hansen

What about meetings with respect to problems as they came up in the camp? Did you meet, say, at the mess hall to discuss certain things? Did you have block meetings?


Embrey

They had block meetings, which were, I guess, part of the administration's way of getting messages to the people and the community and getting messages or complaints to the administration. I don't know how often the block meetings were held, but we did have a block manager.


Hansen

Who was your block manager?


Embrey

I don't remember his name. One of them was an Issei who spoke English, and the other one was a young Kibei who was married to my brother's sister-in-law. He spoke both English and Japanese quite well, and he had also been to college.


Hansen

Do you recall his name?


Embrey

Yes, his name was "Lindy" Uyehara, and he was block manager for just a short time because he volunteered for Camp Savage Military Intelligence and went into the service. But they used to have fairly regular meetings and there used to be a lot of--well, toward the end it got to be pretty rough because there was this Question 28, and the loyalty oath. And there was a lot of bickering about that, whether we should comply and what would happen if we didn't comply.


Hansen

You say toward the end. Do you mean toward the end of your stay?


Embrey

Toward the end of my stay, I guess it would be, because it was still going on after I left.


Hansen

And you left when?


Embrey

I left in October 1943. There was a lot of pressure put on by the block people for their sons not to go into the service. It wasn't just the parents telling the kids, but the community and the block people saying, "After what they did to us, you don't want to go into the service in the Army." So there was a lot of pressure from that angle, too. I don't remember that there was that much in terms of problems with the younger kids. The kids were pretty free to do whatever they wanted because there was no real family control. In the beginning, kids were going to just any mess hall to eat, but after about a year that was stopped and people had to eat in their own block. So I don't think there were that many problems, although I know when one of the Issei men died there was a lot of talk about the daughter-in-law leaving because she had only been treated well by the father-in-law, and the mother-in-law and the son had abused her so badly that several of the people in the community, or the


116
block, offered to take her in. Things like that. But I don't remember that there was anything serious.


Hansen

Who would you say had the power in the block with respect to leadership: Issei, Kibei, or Nisei? You've indicated that the block managers were Issei and Kibei.


Embrey

The two in our block were. In the beginning they wouldn't allow the Issei to take any kind of office because of the fact that they were classified as enemy aliens and the United States government was not supposed to have them do anything that might put them in jeopardy with their own country. But when the Issei began to feel they were not doing anything, the administration, the WRA [War Relocation Authority], began to change some of its policies and give some of the leadership to the Issei. But I think, generally, the camp itself, outside of the administration, was pretty much controlled by Issei.


Hansen

So unofficially, in any event, Issei held the real power.


Embrey

I think they still did. People talk a lot about the Issei not being able to keep family control and all that, but I think when you come down to it the co-op was run more by Issei than Nisei, and most of the block leaders eventually became Issei, partly because the young ones were leaving. In the first year, I think, there was a lot of control by the Nisei and a lot of policy making going on behind the scenes. But when furlough time came and the young men left to go work in the fields and some to enlist in the Army, then there wasn't anyone left to take over except the Issei.


Hansen

In what capacity were you originally employed at the camp?


Embrey

Well, I had volunteered to help a couple of Catholic nuns who had come into camp and were going to live there and start a school because the school had not been organized. I guess I must have worked a couple of weeks without pay when I found out they were setting up this camouflage net factory and they were looking for workers. So I went and applied, and I worked there.


Hansen

You had to be a Nisei to work there, didn't you?


Embrey

Yes, you had to be a citizen to work there because we would be making camouflage nets for the United States Army and the administration had evidently signed some kind of contract. There was a lot of bickering about how much we were going to get paid and were we going to get paid, and we eventually did get paid. Then there was a lot of competition about which crew was going to make the most nets and win the watermelon or whatever they were giving away for prizes. Then the first group of furlough workers left, which meant that a lot of the staff people from the Manzanar Free Press were leaving, and so I thought it might be a good time for me to apply for a job there. So I applied at the Manzanar Free Press and they told me that I could probably get a job there.



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Hansen

About when was that?


Embrey

Let's see, we got there in May, so this must have been maybe June or July. It might even have been later than that, I'm not sure. But I know I didn't work very long at the camouflage net factory. I started out as a cub reporter on the Free Press.


Hansen

After your stint as a cub reporter, what did you do then?


Embrey

Well, I learned all the routine that went on in the newspaper field. One of the things we had to do was have it already laid out, and then the layout was picked up by someone like Bob Brown, the reports officer, or whoever was making a special trip into Lone Pine to deliver our final copy. It was printed in Lone Pine by the Chalfant Press. So none of us ever really got to see the printshop because we were in a military area and we couldn't get out of camp. Everything had to be typed and in final order. We had to make up the headlines and select the type we wanted from a type book and mark it for the printer so he would know exactly what was to be done. All the photographs would have to be in order with all the pages laid out. The printer did a fairly good job, I think, on every issue.


Hansen

Were you working on the paper before it became printed, when it was still a mimeographed newspaper?


Embrey

I don't remember. I guess I was because I remember that there was a mimeograph machine around with a couple of operators. And then we got two additional typists to do the final draft. What they had to do was to type them in columns so the spacing would be accurate, do it on the typewriter, and then retype the whole thing in final draft.


Hansen

Now the editor of the paper when you first started working was Chiye Mori, right?


Embrey

It was Chiye Mori, yes. She was the first editor, and there were a couple of other people: James Oda, who was a Kibei, and there was a fellow who was partly Japanese. He didn't have a Japanese name. I'm trying to think of it. Now I remember, his name was Joe Blamey.


Hansen

Are you naming people who were on the staff?


Embrey

On the staff, yes.


Hansen

It was a small staff, then?


Embrey

It was fairly small. We did have, of course, a separate sports staff and then we had the business office part, the ones who collected advertising and took care of the money that came in for the advertising. We had a whole Japanese section and they did theirs on the mimeograph machine because there was no way to get Japanese type. Rather than photographs, they had sketches that one of the artists would do on a stencil. Then they would run it off so it would go inside the English section. We delivered the paper to everybody in camp.



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Hansen

Now when you first started working on the paper, Bob Brown was the reports officer.


Embrey

He was reports officer and directly under him was a man named Roy Takeno who is now with The Denver Post, and Chiye Mori was the editor. Joe Blamey was one of those who was beaten up. And that was sad, because he was a cripple. He had one leg which was shorter and he always carried a cane with him. But he was quite outspoken and I would say he was one of those on the progressive side.


Hansen

You said Chiye Mori was also on that side.


Embrey

Chiye Mori was also called a "Red," and she was very liberal in her views and very outspoken for a woman. They were all threatened, so they left camp early. I think Joe Blamey was beaten a couple of times. Then, of course, Jimmy Oda was also on the staff, and he was considered a radical for a Kibei. Then Jimmy volunteered for military intelligence and served in the Army.


Hansen

Maybe you weren't conscious of this since you were young at the time, but did you find yourself in sympathy with the editorial policy of the Manzanar Free Press? For instance, sometime in April, 1942, prior to your being on the staff, they had publicly printed a thank you note to General DeWitt for his efficient handling of the evacuation and also commended Karl Bendetson and others associated with the evacuation itself, and thereafter followed a very proadministration position, which I think explains a lot of the retaliatory beatings and things. Did you find yourself at odds with this policy?


Embrey

No, most of the time I found myself agreeing with it because I guess that was the feeling I had, although I'm not so sure about that editorial on General DeWitt because I think that personally I had a very deep grudge against him. I didn't know about Bendetson and Gullion until years later when I did research and found that they were really the ones behind it. I think my only animosity was toward people like DeWitt and others who had pressured for the evacuation.


Hansen

Did you feel that the name Free Press was an accurate or an ironic name?


Embrey

Well, when I think about it now, I think it was pretty silly, but at the time I guess I agreed.


Hansen

What control was there over what appeared in the paper with respect to administrative censorship?


Embrey

Well, they didn't want us to write about things like . . . Well, once there was a strike going on at Lockheed or somewhere, and somebody commented on it. I don't remember whether I wrote the story or somebody else wrote it, but a crack was made about, "Why are they on strike? Our government is having a war." After it was printed, we got the feedback, "We don't want things like that in the paper." I don't recall that there was any actual censorship of the articles.


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The editorials, I think, were checked before they were run pretty much.


Hansen

Who wrote most of the editorials?


Embrey

I guess all of the editorials were written at the beginning by Chiye Mori. Later, when Roy Takeno came in as editor, he wrote a lot of them. And I know that he consulted very often with Bob Brown. I don't know whether they were just consulting over official things, but I think a lot of the editorial statements probably were checked. I'm not so sure about censorship of informational material. A lot of the material was about community activities, this group doing that and the school having this. I think in terms of official reports that were coming in from Mr. Ralph Merritt, the project director, or the Washington WRA office were already sent out as a press release, so there wouldn't be too much we could do with them.


Hansen

Did you have any badgering of the staff during working hours? Did you have visitations from people in the community who were hostile to a particular editorial position or flavor?


Embrey

Well, occasionally we did. I remember one. We had an article about a man who committed suicide after he killed his wife. And the reasons they gave was that she was a younger Nisei who was having an affair with someone else and had asked him for a divorce. They had two small children. It was not a large article. But we mentioned that the man was originally from San Pedro. And the San Pedro people were furious at the staff. "He was not from San Pedro! You've got to make a correction!" So then a second article came out and we said that So-and-So was from . . . I don't know where he was from originally. But we didn't mention the fact that we were making a retraction that he was not from San Pedro. And they kept badgering us to make a retraction. Little things like that. I don't think there were that many people who really cared, unless it had something to do with them particularly.


Hansen

Who do you recall from the community being around the Free Press office? I don't mean people that just worked there, but who you as a writer and a person found somewhat interesting to be around, that used to come into the Manzanar Free Press office.


Embrey

That used to come into the newspaper office?


Hansen

That might have been in, say, close social contact with the staff and editors of the paper.


Embrey

I can't think of any, although I think when the original staff was still there people were coming in often to talk to them, you know, like Chiye Mori's friends and people like that. I know we had a lot of visitors, also, but I don't recall that there were any special people who used to come in.


Hansen

Well, you know, Togo Tanaka, as you mentioned earlier, was the English language editor of the Rafu Shimpo before the war. By the time he was


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evacuated, when he went to get employment at the camp, the only thing that was available for him with respect to journalism was to deliver the paper. And he delivered it with Joe Masaoka. I was just wondering if, for instance, Tanaka was considered by the staff as something of a rival or a person not to allow to have a position on the paper, that he was excluded by design?


Embrey

That's possible, because I remember that both Togo Tanaka and Joe Grant Masaoka were there on the staff, and I don't know whether they were there for collecting information for the administration, keeping records, or what.


Hansen

They had a job as War Relocation Authority documentary historians.


Embrey

That's what I thought.


Hansen

Did you ever see them around?


Embrey

I used to see them around, but I guess, you know, just coming in as a cub reporter and all, I was sort of in awe of all of these people. They were a lot older than I, and I felt, with their college degrees and whatever their background, they were people to look up to.


Hansen

That's what I was wondering, whether that impressionable sort of mood carried over to the people you came in contact with in the community? Who seemed important to you at that time?


Embrey

I suppose people like Koji, Karl and Tokie Slocum may have walked in and out of the Free Press office all the time and I wasn't aware of them, you know.


Hansen

You didn't recognize them?


Embrey

I didn't even know who they were.


Hansen

Didn't you know Karl Yoneda at the time?


Embrey

No, I didn't. I didn't meet Karl until the first Manzanar Pilgrimage a few years ago.


Hansen

This was the very first time you met him?


Embrey

In my life, yes. I had heard of him, I had seen him, but I had never met him. And I guess that again is that Nisei generation. You know, you have possibly ten or twelve years in between, and all of the older Nisei had gone to college and had experiences outside that I wasn't aware of.


Hansen

Did you know Togo Tanaka at camp?


Embrey

Well, my family knew his family, and my brothers knew him. I had met him but I don't think he knew me from the next person because I was a lot younger.



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Hansen

Yes, he was probably twenty-six or seven at that time. And did you know Joe Grant Masaoka or not?


Embrey

No, I met him just before he died when he was in Los Angeles. So a lot of these people were, I guess in my eyes, sort of leaders. I wasn't too aware of any kind of division that was going on. Now I heard when I was in camp that Togo Tanaka was considered a stool pigeon or a spy for the U.S. government and that he was seen opening mail from the FBI.


Hansen

You heard that in camp?


Embrey

Yes, I heard that in camp. And I remember that he . . . I'm not sure that he lived in Block 20, but I remember he ate in our kitchen once.


Hansen

He lived in Block 36.


Embrey

Oh, yes. He may have been visiting someone in our block. I remember that he was pointed out to me. And they said, "He's that inu." Inu means spy.


Hansen

And that was well before the riot in December of 1942?


Embrey

That was before the riot.


Hansen

Like back in, say, September of 1942?


Embrey

Yes, and at that time several people were pointed out as being very cooperative with the administration, so that there was no other excuse except that they were spies, you know.


Hansen

Can you think of anybody else that was branded as such?


Embrey

Well, Tokie Slocum was another one, and I guess Joe Grant Masaoka. But I didn't hear anything about Joe Grant.


Hansen

I read that the beatings didn't necessarily have anything to do with politics. For instance, there was the beating of Chiye Mori. Do you recall what the circumstances were surrounding her beating?


Embrey

No. I thought it was because of being proadministration. But I didn't hear anything at the time. And she was very outspoken.


Hansen

Do you remember her beating? Were you on the staff then?


Embrey

No, I don't recall that she was ever beaten. I thought that she was threatened, but I didn't know that she was beaten. Oh, they did come into the Free Press office, I guess, one time when they were . . . I don't know who it was that did it, whether it was a gang or just individuals.



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Hansen

So you were on the staff as a reporter throughout the time after you left the camouflage net factory.


Embrey

Then after the Manzanar Riot, a lot of the staff people like Chiye and Joe Blamey were taken out of camp and sent to Death Valley. I think Roy Takeno became the editor. A lot of the ones who were left behind were promoted along the way.


Hansen

Like the circulation manager or something of this sort?


Embrey

Yes, the circulation manager. The circulation manager was--the advertising one was--you know, a fellow they called "Dago" Shimizu and he runs Shimizu Shoe Store in Little Tokyo. He was in charge of the business end of the Free Press. So I guess when Roy took over I sort of got into the feature section of the Free Press. And as people left to go on furlough, those of us who were left sort of took over the managing of the paper.


Hansen

When did you become the managing editor of the paper?


Embrey

I don't recall whether the pictorial edition they put out was the first issue that I did, or whether I was on earlier than that.


Hansen

You were managing editor for several months?


Embrey

Yes, I was managing editor until I left in October of 1943.


Hansen

How did the editor get selected? Do you recall the process?


Embrey

No. I don't remember whether Roy had just appointed us or whether we had a staff meeting and decided who would, you know, in terms of priority, or seniority, or whatever, get the editorship.


Hansen

You worked for Bob Brown for a long time. What did you think of him as an administrator?


Embrey

Well, he was pretty low-key, as I remember him, and he was well-liked by the staff. I don't think we got into any kind of problem or any controversy with him. I remember that he seemed to be very sensitive to other people's feelings.


Hansen

Was he a young fellow?


Embrey

Yes, he was a young fellow, perhaps in his thirties.


Hansen

What was his background?


Embrey

I understand he comes from the Owens Valley, and he was raised there, either at Independence or at Lone Pine. I heard that after the war he got into the Army surplus business and made quite a bit of money, and that he is now retired somewhere in southern California.


Hansen

So he's around here.



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Embrey

I think so. The first thing I heard about him after the war was that he was running a business right outside Phoenix, heavy equipment and construction equipment, and then someone else told me he had also made a lot of money in war surplus. But I don't know. I understand he's retired.


Hansen

He was reasonably well-respected at camp, though?


Embrey

Yes, I think he was. I don't think there was any negative kind of reactions toward him.


Hansen

What about the various project directors while you were there? When you first came, who was in charge? Was it Roy Nash?


Embrey

I think Roy Nash was there, and I don't recall him at all. And then who was the next director? Was it Ned Campbell?


Hansen

Harvey Coverley.


Embrey

Oh, and Coverley. I don't remember.


Hansen

Campbell was the assistant project director during that time.


Embrey

Oh, he was the assistant. Then Mr. Coverley came in?


Hansen

Just for a short while. Then after that, you had Solon Kimball, and finally Ralph Merritt took over in November of 1942.


Embrey

November of 1942, right. I don't remember whether all of the others before Mr. Merritt were part of the WCCA or whatever they called that Wartime Civilian Control Administration.


Hansen

Just Clayton Triggs was. He was the first director, while Manzanar was known as the Owens Valley Reception Center. Then Nash took over when it became the Manzanar War Relocation Center and under the jurisdiction of the WRA. These other ones I mentioned were just acting project directors until they found Merritt. You probably didn't know any of the ones before Merritt very well, did you?


Embrey

I don't remember any of them except by name. We had no contact with them.


Hansen

Did you know Ralph Merritt? Did you have contact with him?


Embrey

Occasionally. I got to know Mrs. Merritt pretty well, and she was always, it seemed to me, around camp talking to people and trying to find out some of the problems in the community.


Hansen

Was Merritt well liked?


Embrey

Yes, I think he was, although possibly individuals who have had some contact with him may not have liked him, but I think on the whole, yes, he was a pretty good administrator. And he seemed to understand


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the Japanese more than any of the others, because he had been in Japan. And I think he was at one time--I don't know whether he was a president but anyway he was on the staff of the Sun Maid Raisin Company, and he was the one who, I think, negotiated importing raisins to Japan. So I think he was aware of what Japanese people were like.


Hansen

You mentioned Ned Campbell. He comes in for a lot of abusive commentary by former internees at Manzanar. He figured very prominently during the time of the riot and was ousted thereafter from his administrative position. Did you have any contact with Campbell? Were you privy to any rumors about him?


Embrey

I didn't know him. The only thing I heard was that part of the possible cause of the riot was that Campbell had some kind of black market deal going on in camp. That was all I heard.


Hansen

Did you get any substantiation on that or not? Or was that just a rumor?


Embrey

No, that was only rumor. I think it was a rumor going around at the time when the riot occurred.


Hansen

And did you come into contact with that rumor after the fact or at the time? Do you remember that as a rumor at that point or was this something you have picked up from retrospective reading?


Embrey

It was a rumor that was going around at the time in camp. I had heard it before the riot actually. But there were so many rumors going around. I don't know whether people, you know, actually believed all of them or just believed half of them and figured there wasn't anything they could do about it. Oh, there was talk about a black market in sugar, because that was rationed, and then meat, and there was allegedly black marketing in gasoline. So I really don't know.


Hansen

What do you think caused the so-called Manzanar Riot on December 6, 1942, when two internees were killed and nine others wounded. Looking back, did it come to you as an utter shock that it happened or did things seem to be building toward some sort of showdown in camp?


Embrey

Well, I was feeling the tension, but I don't know if other people were. I think that all of these things were piling up after almost a year of camp living, it was not really a year, maybe six or seven months, and the people were complaining constantly about lack of privacy and the poor food and the weather. I think it was a culmination of all these things. I think that the fact that the man who was arrested for the beatings--you know, Fred Tayama was beaten--was a very popular man really triggered the whole thing. People really just felt there was nothing they could do except have some kind of protest. I don't really think that either the administration or the camp people themselves realized how serious it was, because in the afternoon the protesters were having, I think they had a mass meeting in what they called the fire breaks between blocks, and there were a


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lot of people there.


Hansen

Were you there at the meeting?


Embrey

We sort of walked around to look, you know. We weren't involved, so . . . And then nothing really happened until after supper. I was in our room with my mother. I heard voices and a lot of footsteps. And a man, an Issei, told me about a year ago, "I'll never forget the sound of marching feet." And I said, "When was that?" And he said, "The night of the riot." He said, "I remember it so well, even today." It was everybody wearing these big boots and just walking on this loose gravel and dirt, and there's a particular sound it makes. And I remember that it was very cold that night, and I recall my mother, my sister and I were standing around that Coleman stove in our barrack when we heard all this noise. And we saw all these people walk by and it looked like a couple of hundred people in the crowd.


Hansen

I believe most of this meeting was outside of Block 22 and you were in Block 20, right?


Embrey

Yes.


Hansen

And which is closer to the jail at the entrance to Manzanar?


Embrey

Block 20.


Hansen

Block 20, so they came past it.


Embrey

They came past our block, and I understand they came from the hospital which was way inland beyond 22. They came past our block and they were going to Block 19, and later I heard they were looking for someone in Block 19 that they were going to beat up, that they thought was proadministration. Whether he was with the pro-American group I don't know, and I don't even know who he was.


Hansen

I think it was Tokie Slocum.


Embrey

In Block 19?


Hansen

I think they were looking for him there. Or perhaps they had already spirited him off and put him in the military police compound or something.


Embrey

I heard that they couldn't find him, that they just ransacked the place. Was he one of the house parents at the YWCA dorm that was in Block 19?


Hansen

I have no idea.


Embrey

Because I understand that they went through there and went through everything, trunks and closets, looking for someone. Then from Block 19, which is right along the edge of the camp, and along a


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road and beyond that there's a strip of land and then the barbed wire fence and Highway 395. So they evidently went down that road toward the police station, and met the other groups that were coming from the other areas. The next thing I heard, my brother ran into the room and said that people had been shot.


Hansen

Which brother was this?


Embrey

This was my brother named Kinya, who is the second older one above me. He had thrown his badge and his cap away in the trash can along the way and run home because he didn't want to get involved. He had heard some shots and was very worried that some people had been either wounded or killed. I remember that my mother said that we'll all get shot now because people had protested. And then my younger sister's boyfriend, who had been observing, came running into the apartment saying some people had been killed. He was shaking from fear. We were saying, "Oh, what's going to happen?" You know, "What's going to happen next?" I don't know how soon after that but all the kitchen gongs began to ring, and they rang all night. I don't know what the purpose was, whether they were trying to get everybody to assemble or tell everybody to go inside and stay indoors or what.


Hansen

I think they tried to have some meetings, and they kept forming in certain areas and the military patrolled around and broke up the meetings and kept moving them around.


Embrey

The military came inside the camp?


Hansen

No, it was circling around the camp breaking up the various meetings to make sure the Japanese didn't take retaliatory action.


Embrey

I recall that jeeps were going up and down in camp. I wasn't sure whether they were just patrolling or were trying to break up the groups that were trying to meet or what, because my mother was so frightened that she wouldn't let any of us out. She said, "You just can't go out there because they may just shoot at you." By that time I guess it was just my two brothers, myself, my younger sister, my younger brother, and my mother. My oldest brother, who was married, was in a room across the next barrack, and my mother was even afraid to go out and see whether he was inside or not and safe! I guess, you know, if she thought that way, I probably figured all the Issei were thinking the same thing. You know, "the military is going to come in and shoot us all." That's all I remember of that night. You knew that somebody had been shot, and then days later different people told me different things about what happened if they were down there, and what they had seen.


Hansen

I noticed looking through the files on the Free Press that no issues appeared between the time of the riot in early December and the Christmas edition.


Embrey

No.



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Hansen

I read somewhere that they did put out a paper for the next day, although . . .


Embrey

It was impounded.


Hansen

What happened? Can you tell us a little bit about that issue and why it was impounded?


Embrey

Well, I remember that we had an issue that was sent into Lone Pine on Friday, I think, or Saturday, and it was supposed to come out Monday. The riot happened Saturday night and all day Sunday, I guess, and the military police came in Sunday, so they impounded that issue. We never saw it. And I don't know whatever happened to it; I understood that the U.S. Army just impounded it. The thing I remember about that issue was that it was an anniversay issue, and the staff put "Remember Pearl Harbor" on the first page. I think that was the thing they didn't want distributed. Then there was a suspension of all work until Christmas just about, because the whole camp went into a state of mourning. I guess no one worked except the work crews that were delivering the oil for the stoves and the kitchen crews cooking the food. It was just those two things and the hospital, I guess, because I remember that no one would go to work. And we were told, "If you go to work, you're really going to get in trouble." Then they had the funeral for the two boys outside of camp, and nobody was invited except for possibly the representatives of the blocks and the family. One boy was seventeen. He was just a bystander. He got pushed by the crowd when the tear gas was thrown, and he died there on the spot.


Hansen

This was James Ito.


Embrey

Yes, James Ito. His brother was in the U.S. Army somewhere back East. They had to call for him to get back, so the funeral was postponed until he came. My brothers knew the brother in the Army and also knew the young boy himself. My brothers told my mother but when she tried to remember who he was, she said she didn't remember him, "He's the one who came and laid the linoleum on our floor. He was on the work crew when they came, the one who died." And I think his brother came to see us when he came to camp, because my brothers knew him. I don't know who the other boy was. I don't know whether he was involved in the riot. I don't know whether he was also another bystander.


Hansen

Both of them were apparently innocent bystanders, from all accounts of it.


Embrey

Yes. And evidently they got pushed by the crowd and then were shot.


Hansen

Let me ask you a little bit about some of the personalities who are usually identified with the Manzanar Riot. One, the major cause célèbre of the riot, I guess, since he was the person that they were demonstrating to get released from the Independence jail and brought back to Manzanar, was a man by the name of Harry Ueno.



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Embrey

That's right.


Hansen

He was the head of the Kitchen Workers Union and he was from Block 22, which wasn't too far removed from yours. Did you ever hear of Harry Ueno prior to that time? Did he figure as a name in your life at all, or as a person?


Embrey

No, not until he was arrested. I knew that they were trying to organize a kitchen union, the Kitchen Workers Union. Now I'm not sure whether they were doing this as opposition to the group that was trying to form a Manzanar Citizens Federation or whatever.


Hansen

They formed it, I believe, in opposition to the Manzanar Works Corps, which included many of the same people who were in the Citizens Federation.


Embrey

Yes, a work corps group. Evidently he had a lot of support, because he was the one that they wanted returned, claiming that he was not the one who beat Fred Tayama up. I don't know whatever happened to the case or what was resolved from it. Did he spend time in jail after?


Hansen

He was then sent to Moab, to a temporary isolation center there.


Embrey

To Moab, Utah?


Hansen

Right. And then I know he went to a permanent isolation center in Leupp, Arizona. From there we don't know what happened to him.


Embrey

Was he a Nisei or a Kibei?


Hansen

A Kibei.


Embrey

I wonder if he went back to Japan.


Hansen

That's what I was wondering, too. But he hadn't figured at all in camp as a personality?


Embrey

I don't think he was even known among the people in the camp, except among kitchen workers. But from what I heard, he was very popular, and he had a lot of support compared to the support the others were getting, those who were beaten up. No one was giving them any sympathy.


Hansen

David Hacker, who is doing some research on the Manzanar Riot, wants to ask you a question, so let's now hear from him.


Hacker

When you say Ueno was popular, do you know exactly why he was popular or how he got his popularity?


Embrey

No. That's all I heard, that someone had been arrested for beating up these people, and he was the prime suspect. They had sent him to jail in Independence and the purpose of the protest was to get


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him back to Manzanar, which had a jail located behind the police department building, and that the reason that he was getting so much support was that he was very popular. Now where that popularity came from, I don't know, but they attracted something like two thousand people to that afternoon meeting alone.


Hansen

Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Ben Kishi?


Embrey

No. I've only read of him in some of the history books I've come onto.


Hansen

But he wasn't a personality that you knew, or knew of, around the camp?


Embrey

No, I never heard of him.


Hansen

Had you heard of Joe Kurihara?


Embrey

The only mention of Joe is through Karl Yoneda and a couple of books, I think Allen Bosworth's book, America's Concentration Camps. I'm not sure if it said quite a bit.


Hansen

But he wasn't somebody that you knew about?


Embrey

I didn't know him at all. I don't even think his name was in the paper at all, in the Free Press. If it were, I probably would have known it.


Hansen

So these people emerged out of relative obscurity with respect to the camp--at least as prominent personalities--at the time of the riot?


Embrey

I think so, yes. I don't think they were known outside of their own group, possibly their own block even, but they managed to get a lot of support because people had a lot of complaints and grievances that they wanted to be brought out. Possibly they thought that they would be able to do it this way.


Hansen

Returning to the question of causation, when you think back upon the riot now, do you think that perhaps maybe a lot of the cause had to do with just the fact that a certain number in the camp were discriminated against, weren't eligible for work or didn't have jobs made available to them because they were noncitizens or sometimes Kibei. Although they were citizens, Kibei weren't allowed to participate in leave clearance so that they could relocate, and they were shunted into undesirable jobs, like on kitchen crews or as janitors and so on. Do you think that part of the cause was a protest against those kinds of conditions?


Embrey

I think so, although I think that a lot of it has to do with how people felt toward that demonstration as a way out.


Hansen

You yourself wouldn't have participated at that time?



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Embrey

I doubt it very much. (laughter) Maybe later, but not then, I don't think.


Hansen

And most of the people who you came into contact with at that time, do you think they would have, either? I mean, the people that you worked with?


Embrey

No, I don't think the majority of the people would have. I think the riot involved just a very small number of people.


Hansen

Except that it struck some sort of responsive chord in the camp at large?


Embrey

I think it did, because people were just . . . Well, they were still making adjustments from living by themselves in the city to being very crowded, living with strangers, having no privacy of any kind. And they had a lot of grievances about the food and about whether they were going to get paid. Some people hadn't even gotten paid, you know. Then there was the fact that the Issei weren't really recognized as adult leaders. I think there were so many grievances that they just sort of erupted at that time and I guess, you know, the arrest of Ueno was just the straw that really broke the camel's back. And I think everyone sympathized with this group.


Hansen

I heard there was a lot of animus directed at Nisei girls who were office workers because they were sometimes accorded privileges which were resented, and because they were on a first-name basis with administrative personnel, and because they were given access to mess halls prior sometimes to people living in that block, particularly in Block 1, which was mostly comprised, I think, of bachelors. These Nisei girls, as I understand, were given these privileges and many were placed on the dissidents' black list and were considered, if not inu as such, people who were too close to the administration. Could you comment on this?


Embrey

Yes, I think there was a lot of envy toward those who had these jobs as secretaries. Block 1 was the administrative block, and Block 1 also was a very popular place to eat because the cook there was very good. He made, with what he had available, some very unusual things which other block people were not able to eat because their cooks couldn't cook like he could. I remember working on the special editions for the paper; we would be there to maybe ten or eleven o'clock at night, and they would arrange for us to have a snack in the Block 1 mess hall. Some of these snacks were pretty fancy dishes. And the cook did it with what he had, and I think that that may also have been part of it, that everyone was vying to eat in Block 1, because the food was so bad elsewhere. For awhile people used to make the rounds. They put a stop to that because the food would run out in certain blocks. I remember, there was a man, an Issei, who was a very good friend of my father's who used to come around. He was a bachelor who lived in Block 1. He worked in the kitchen. He would bring my mother things like pancakes, and they were so good compared to the pancakes we were getting in our mess hall. It was


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really a treat to eat in Block 1.


Hansen

Did you ever experience any resentment toward you of the kind we've been talking about?


Embrey

Well, if there was, I wasn't aware of it, although I know that one girl said to me, "If I were you, I wouldn't talk to those hakujin [Caucasians]. You know, the administrators. And I said, "Well, they're not any different from other people." And she said, "Yeah . . ." She wasn't so sure. And she said to me, "I will never talk to a Caucasian as long as I'm in this camp." And she didn't! She would never talk to them, never answer them when they talked to her, and she would never say hello. You know, people were always saying hello to each other because they saw each other right there in camp. But she absolutely refused to talk to them.


Hansen

What sort of contact did you have with the administrators? Very little?


Embrey

I didn't have that much, actually, outside of possibly talking to Bob Brown. I did meet some. I met Mrs. Merritt. I met Mrs. D'Ille, who was the social welfare department head. I think she had also lived in Japan. She was a very friendly person. I got to know her pretty well. She started to conduct some kind of seminar and a bunch of us would go.


Hansen

Did you know Lucy Adams?


Embrey

Is she that real tall lady?


Hansen

She was in community services, I believe. Actually, I think she was portly, short and kind of heavy.


Embrey

Oh, no. I remember a very tall woman administrator, though I don't remember her name; she was very friendly. We did talk a lot to the teachers. There were three or four high school teachers who were Quakers, and they lived right in the barrack next to the school. They didn't live outside the area like some of the administrative people did, but they lived inside.


Hansen

Did you know Bob Throckmorton, who was the project attorney?


Embrey

I probably met him. The name is familiar, but I don't recall him.


Hansen

But you didn't know Ned Campbell, right?


Embrey

No, I didn't know him.


Hansen

You didn't have any contact with him at all?


Embrey

No.


Hansen

So the main administrators you had contact with were Mrs. D'Ille and


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Bob Brown.


Embrey

Bob Brown, yes.


Hansen

And once in a while, through Mr. Merritt, Mrs. Merritt.


Embrey

There was one woman who was--I'm not sure whether she was a teletype operator or a Western Union operator there, but I think she was from either Independence or Bishop, and her husband had gone into the U.S. Navy. Well, she was looking for work and had been working as a teletypist, I think, so she came to Manzanar. She was very friendly and we talked a lot. I stopped by and talked with her and visited with her. I don't recall her name. I don't know what happened to her. She was one who encouraged me to leave and get out of there saying, "Look, you know, you're young. You don't need to spend your life here."


Hansen

Did you have mixed feelings about leaving?


Embrey

Yes, very much so.


Hansen

Did you feel you were abandoning your family?


Embrey

Yes, you know, it's funny how the different restrictions placed on you as a child and the social customs have a very strong influence. I felt guilty, although a lot of people were leaving camp at the time. A lot of my friends had left and had written to me saying, "Come out here, things are not that bad. At least you'll make a decent living." I still had a lot of mixed feelings. The big problem was that this Issei man I was talking about got very ill about a month before I left, and when he went into the hospital the diagnosis was that he had cancer of the stomach. He had told me that he was leaving Manzanar to go back to Japan, because he had no relatives here. He told me that he felt he had been abandoned by the United States government, that he had worked hard, you know, harvesting crops in California, and he said, "I gave forty years of my life to this country. I'm not a citizen, but now they've taken that away from me and I have nothing left, so I might as well go back to Japan and live with whatever relatives are left." So he had signed up for repatriation to Japan. And about that time I had decided that I just couldn't stay in Manzanar anymore. I was just . . . I don't know. A lot of things were happening and I just felt I couldn't spend another year there.


Hansen

What kind of things were happening?


Embrey

Well, I was finding myself, you know, being left behind when people were leaving from Manzanar, from the Free Press staff. And I guess, a lot of it had to do with having gone to this elementary school, because I really felt that there were areas where I could work if I weren't so restricted. Maybe a lot of it had to do with getting away from home, and possibly going somewhere I could at least find a job. And I was still thinking about going to college.



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Hansen

Did you have a boyfriend in camp at the time?


Embrey

No. Two of my boyfriends got sent to other camps and I sort of gave up after that! (laughter) I also met a couple of MPs who were in the post office examining packages for contraband, and one of them happened to be from Long Beach, California. He had been all over--been to Europe, you know, and had lived in New York. Every time I'd see him, he'd tell me, "There's so many good things happening back there. There isn't the kind of prejudice you find in California. People are different. Go out there, and find these people, find a job and start a new life for yourself. Maybe your family can join you, because this is no place for you." So I was getting a lot of this from the Caucasians. I met a couple of teachers who were giving me encouragement, I guess because I was out a lot looking for stories and happened to have the kind of contacts that other people didn't have. I found myself in a position where I was pulled by the fact of my mother being a widow with her sons going out and going to the service. She was going to be left behind with my younger sister, my brother, and an older sister who had tuberculosis and who was in Olive View at the time. My brother was in Chicago, and he was sending me letters saying, "There are jobs, girls can find jobs here, and the pay is good, and you can live with me and we can send money back to Mother." So all of these things were happening, and this man was in the hospital dying of cancer of the stomach. My clearance came through, by the way, at that time. So Mr. Heath was the relocation officer at the time, and my sister was his secretary. So I was sort of in on some of the opportunities that were coming in. I went in, and I said, "Well, what am I supposed to do now? I got my clearance." He said, "Well, there's a YWCA in Madison, Wisconsin, offering a month's room and board until you find yourself a job and an apartment. If you want to stay there, they'll have room for you. Would you be willing to take it? They're doing it for two girls." So I thought, well, that would be a chance for me to get back on my feet. A month is a long time, and I can find a job there. And I had known some nurses who had gone to work in Wisconsin General Hospital there. They were sending letters. So I thought that would be a fairly good place to go. So I decided to go.


Hansen

I'm surprised you didn't apply to a college.


Embrey

Well, I had a lot of fears about going to college, and one of them, I think, still lingers. It's what my father said to me before he died. He said that as a woman and as a Japanese I have two strikes against me, and that I really shouldn't even consider college at all. And this was when I was leaving the eighth grade to go into high school and I was asking him all kinds of questions, like what he thought I should take. And, of course, what he said to me was typing, bookkeeping, and shorthand, so that at least I could make a living until I got married. You know, he was, I think, very practical. He had gone though a lot himself; nobody ever helped him when he came to the United States. He had to struggle and raised his family and had his business. And to him, it was a dream for me to even consider college.



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Hansen

A pipe dream, you mean.


Embrey

Yes. And only one of my brothers got to school. He has a master's degree and is teaching. The others, you know, they went to trade school. Well, one works as an air-conditioning and TV repair man, and the other one has no skills and he's working in a gas station, but he always liked to be a mechanic so he fools around with that. But of the eight of us, my brother and I are the only ones that got through college. I don't think it was because my mother and father didn't encourage it, it was just the fact that we were very poor. We didn't have any extra money to spread around. My brother happened to go because he got in on the GI Bill, you know, and I didn't go back to school until 1955.


Hansen

Well, before we get you to Chicago and talk about your activities there, which we'll save for our next session, I want to turn the interview back over to David Hacker, who has a few questions concerning the personalities at Manzanar. Dave?


Hacker

Right. Well, I wanted to start with one thing. You earlier mentioned Koji Ariyoshi. And he was a Kibei, right?


Embrey

He was a Kibei, yes.


Hacker

In the Special Collections over here at UCLA, there's a study by Morris Opler [Manzanar community analyst] which deals with Manzanar and the riot itself ["A History of Internal Government at Manzanar March 1942 to December 6, 1942"]. Now one of the things that he points out is that there was a group of Kibei who had left just prior to the riot for Army Intelligence School. He claims that they were a stabilizing effect force there at the camp, and that their departure helped precipitate the riot. I wonder if you know anything about that or have any opinion on that?


Embrey

No, except I think the WRA was just beginning to recognize the different factions and were trying to separate them at the time, although the Army had been looking for bilingual people and these were the only ones available. Even then, some of them had to be sneaked out because the people in the camp didn't want them going out and helping the American cause. The Issei especially felt that they would be helping against the parents' own country by working for the U.S. Army. I guess there was a lot of conflicting feelings about that. I imagine taking them out of camp was a help in terms of possibly getting some of the tension removed.


Hacker

But Opler maintains that they were a stabilizing element, that they stabilized the situation there, and that once they were gone, then other radical elements were able to take over.


Embrey

So that it left a vacuum actually.


Hacker

Right. But you would . . .



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Embrey

I don't know, because I don't know that many of the . . .


Hacker

Well, Karl Yoneda was in the group, and, of course, Koji Ariyoshi.


Embrey

Yes, they were very involved with trying to set up the Manzanar Citizens' Federation, so as to get better working conditions and living conditions for the people there. I think that was their main concern in Manzanar. It's possible that they were a stabilizing group, since they spoke both English and Japanese. I think they had better rapport with the Issei that were there.


Hacker

Earlier you used the term Aka in connection with certain people. I wonder if you could interpret that term. I mean, when you think of a "Red," you think of a Communist. Did Aka mean something special in the Japanese American community?


Embrey

Well, I think in the Japanese American community, the term Aka or "Red" indicated anybody who sort of didn't really fit into the community thinking. Their thinking was maybe a couple of steps ahead of the Japanese. Some of them, I think were active in the Communist Party. I don't know which ones. I had heard there were some before the war, and they were just called "Reds."


Hacker

It was a general term?


Embrey

It was a general term, I think, that was used to include anybody who was sort of left of center. I don't think that they even differentiated between leftist or progressive or anything like that.


Hacker

Now, going back to personalities. There were two other names I can think of that were important at that time. Do you know anything about David Itami, a Kibei? He was executive secretary of the block leaders council, and he worked for the paper, too, just about the same time that you were there.


Embrey

Itami? I don't recall the name.


Hacker

I think he went with James Oda to Camp Savage in November of 1942.


Embrey

Yes, I knew there were more than just the two, Koji and Karl, who had volunteered. But I didn't know any of them, and I don't recall this man at all.


Hacker

Well, after he left his post of executive secretary to go to work on the paper, his job was taken over by a man by the name of Frank Yasuda. You've probably heard of him, haven't you?


Embrey

I've heard of Frank Yasuda, but I don't know anything about him; I don't know whether he was an Issei or a Nisei or what.


Hacker

Because he was there at the same time you were managing editor of the Free Press.



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Embrey

Yes, probably. I've seen his name in the paper, but I don't remember him at all.


Hansen

Are those all the questions you have, Dave?


Hacker

Yes.


Hansen

Are you sure there's nothing else you can think of?


Hacker

No, I think you covered all the points I had in mind.


Hansen

Okay, Mrs. Embrey, we'll wrap up today's session, and next time we get together we'll pick it up from there and take you from your experiences in Chicago down to the present.


Embrey

There's always a lot to say, I guess. Once you get started you remember other things that connect with it.


Hansen

There's a lot in your life.


Hansen

[Interview continued on November 15, 1973 by Arthur A. Hansen and David J. Bertagnoli.] Mrs. Embrey, our last interviewing session we left off with your leaving the Manzanar War Relocation Center and going to the Midwest. Now, where exactly did you go when you left Manzanar?


Embrey

I went by car from Manzanar to Reno and from Reno we caught a train, It was a group of us. Our first stop was Chicago, where most of the other evacuees were going to stay. I went by myself to Madison, Wisconsin, after staying overnight with my brother. I stayed at a hostel that had been set up in Chicago for people coming through the area.


Hansen

Who ran that hostel, the Quakers?


Embrey

Yes, it was called the American Friends Hostel, and it was situated in the north side of Chicago. It was a great big house, two stories, and everyone did their share of the work, like meals. I just stayed there overnight. The following morning my brother came and picked me up and I took the train to Madison. There I had been offered a month's stay at the YWCA by the board of the YWCA for two evacuees, and I was the one picked from Manzanar. We were given room and board for one month while we looked for jobs. The other girl came from another camp, and she already had a job with some church group as a secretary, but I came out of Manzanar without a job.


Hansen

Did you get very much assistance from the American Friends Service Committee with respect to employment, or were you relatively free to find work on your own?


Embrey

I pretty much searched on my own, and there was a WRA office that had just opened there in Madison, and the man there was doing a lot of calling and looking through ads. I also looked through ads and


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talked to a number of people. I can't exactly remember what my first job was. I think there was a man in Madison practicing law who came originally from Australia, and he took a real interest in the evacuees coming out to the Midwest, and I think my first job came from him. He knew of an opening in one of the county offices, in Dane County. I think it was the county clerk's. It was just a typing job, and it was temporary, but he said, "Why don't you take it until you can find something else?" So I worked for them, I think, two or three months. Then the WRA Office called me one day--I was unemployed for maybe a month in-between--and said there was a mail-order cheese company that was looking for a secretary, and would I be interested? So I took the bus out there and talked to the man, a Mr. Hirsch. He was really quite a character, but he really was very strong on making sure that Japanese had jobs and would be able to come out to the Midwest, and he was doing a lot of work on his own through his church. So I got a job with him in his office.


Hansen

Were you paid the going wage?


Embrey

Yes. It was very low at the time, I can't even remember what the wage was. Maybe it was the minimum wage there. Of course, we also got to eat the cheese, which was natural Wisconsin cheese, which Mr. Hirsch claimed was much better than any of the others that were not natural cheese. He carried other items, but it was all mail order. He had stone-ground flour, and honey, and all of this was supposed to be the natural kind.


Hansen

Did you stay with this job for the duration of the war?


Embrey

I stayed with it as long as I lived in Madison.


Hansen

How long was that?


Embrey

Let's see, I got to Madison around October of 1943, and I think it was July of 1944. My brother had been writing to me and calling me from Chicago to say he wanted to get married to a girl he had met there and wondered if I could come down for the wedding. Then at the last minute they got married before I got down there. (laughter) He suggested that, because the wages in Madison were so low, I should come to Chicago and find a job there. My mother was still in camp and three of my older brothers had gone into the service, and he was a little concerned about her staying in Manzanar with my younger brother and younger sister. He thought that if we could possibly save some money and find an apartment, she might come out to Chicago, although she told us she never wanted to leave California. She never did. (laughter) But this was one of our immediate concerns. So I left my job at the cheese company and moved to Chicago. At that time my oldest brother had just come out from Manzanar and had found an apartment, so I stayed with him and his wife. He had a son at that time who was about two years old. My sister-in-law's sister came to live with them, also, with her daughter, because her husband was in military intelligence at Camp Savage, Minnesota. I guess my oldest


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hadn't been drafted; he must have still been in Chicago, because he left from Chicago to go into the service. He was with the armored division. Since he was older he was never sent overseas. Anyway, we felt that if we could just get my mother out to Chicago, it would be the best solution for the moment. Then if she wanted to go back to California later, she could go back. But at the time there was no talk of ever opening up the West Coast, and we didn't think that there was any use thinking about going back. So I stayed with my brother for awhile. Then my girl friend came out from Amache, Colorado, and we had an apartment together until, I think it was in December of 1944, when the Endo and the Hirabayashi cases were settled by the court and the West Coast opened. My girl friend and her sister immediately left for California to go back to Los Angeles, so I was left by myself. My brother wasn't especially happy about my living alone in an apartment, so he suggested that I move back. In the meantime his sister-in-law went to join her husband in Japan, because he had been assigned to General MacArthur's headquarters, and by this time, 1945, the war was over. I stayed in Chicago and found a job at the Newberry Library.


Hansen

At the University of Chicago?


Embrey

I don't think it's part of the university. It was privately endowed, and the library was living on the interest of this man Newberry, who had left them money. They had special collections--first editions of Shakespeare and a lot of books from England and the Continent. They had different sections, like genealogy and rare books, and a general reading room upstairs. It was kind of a building you never see anymore: these high ceilings, tile everywhere, and huge doors. It was really a drafty, cold place. (laughter) It was like a castle with all this beautiful stuff! So I stayed in Chicago and worked in the library as a switchboard operator and helping the bookkeeper with the payroll. Above us was a man they called the financial agent, who took care of all the financial business of the library. Three of us worked in the business office, making monthly reports and other things that were connected with bookkeeping.


Hansen

How long did you stay at the Newberry, Sue?


Embrey

I was there from 1944 to 1948, I think. My sister--who had gone to Los Angeles, taking my mother and my younger brother with her, as soon as the West Coast had opened up--wrote to me and said that she was thinking of marrying a fellow who lived in Chicago. Since she would have to live in Chicago, she asked me if I would please come back and live with my mother. I wasn't especially anxious to do that, but since my mother was alone with my younger brother, my oldest brother was still living in Chicago, and my two brothers were overseas . . . My brother who got married in Chicago also was living in Chicago and his wife was expecting a baby, so he wasn't too sure about going back to California. Since I was still single, and by myself, my sister asked me to come back. So I stayed in Chicago until she was married, then resigned my job and went back to Los Angeles in September or October of 1948.



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Hansen

What was the reason behind your unwillingness to return: personal reasons, social reasons, or a combination thereof?


Embrey

I think it was a combination of both. I had never been away from home until I left Manzanar, and I was eighteen. Going back and living with my mother, I felt, was going to restrict my activities, although I think I was one of the few of the eight kids who actually got along better with her. She'd been alone since my father died in 1938, and she had raised most of us, so I guess I felt an obligation at least to go back. So after my sister was married--I guess it was a couple of weeks--I gave notice and came back to Los Angeles. In the meantime, my brother from overseas came back from Japan, so we started looking for a house. Then my brother in Chicago, whose wife had just had a baby, decided he wanted to come back to Los Angeles. Since at least half of the family was in Los Angeles, we looked for a house and found a big one, though not in a very pleasant neighborhood. I wasn't especially happy, but the housing was very scarce and we couldn't even get a phone put in at the time. This house was located just south of Little Tokyo.


Hansen

Was Little Tokyo then being opened again to the Japanese Americans?


Embrey

There were still a lot of blacks living in the area, but the small businesses were opening up. And I noticed that some of the sushi bars, and places that had been in business, had started up again. Some of the Chinese restaurants that were on First Street were opening up, and so were the markets and grocery stores dealing in Japanese products, but not that many yet. Most of the people that I knew were out in the trailer camps in Burbank, or in Harbor City, which is by the ocean, working in canneries, almost living the same kind of life they had lived in Manzanar, except that they were free to come and go. They could get jobs outside, and a lot of them had their own cars, but it seems that a lot of people were just brought back to Los Angeles by the busloads, and just placed in a lot of these housing areas. There was a housing area right near Griffith Park called Roger Young Village, and it was made of Quonset huts, and a lot of the Japanese were moved into those Quonset huts. It was like the Manzanar barracks; the apartments were little, and cut into four different sections.


Hansen

Did the people pay rent for those?


Embrey

Yes, they paid rent. I guess for awhile the WRA did help them look for jobs and housing, but they closed up shop in 1946. Anybody that came in after that was pretty much on their own. When I came back, I talked to some friends of mine who were here, who had never gone back East, and they said Civil Service was the best place. Everybody needed secretaries in the Civil Service. The county and city offices were opening up for the Japanese, at least for the girls and women, so I figured that maybe I should try for that. I took a test for the county and, I guess, within a week I was hired. Being not permanent, I was shifted from one office to another.



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Hansen

Before we pursue that, I wanted to return to the period during the war when you were in Madison and Chicago, and inquire about the circumstances of your residence. Were you living by and large in an area where there were numerous relocatees from the camps, Japanese Americans or were you living in a fully integrated situation? And socially, was it by and large a Japanese American network that you were operating within, or were you also traveling around in integrated social circles?


Embrey

Well, in Madison I was one of three Japanese girls living in the so-called dorms. We had rooms in the YWCA Building. We usually ate our meals in the cafeteria downstairs, which was noted in Madison for very good food. Most of the people that we went with were girls who came from small towns around Madison. I guess there were about seven or eight of us that used to go to the movies together, and used to go out to eat together. Twice when we were out to eat in Madison we were refused service. We didn't know whether it was just, you know, the waitress who didn't want to bother with us because we were a large group or because we--the Japanese, the Nisei--were there. We walked out of one place, because it was just kind of like a drugstore type of coffeehouse, and the girls made some kind of remark about it. There was a gal who was German, and another one who was Irish, and they said something about, you know, "It's lousy service around here." Later, when we talked about it, they said, "Oh, it was probably because you were here with us, because we've never had that happen to us before." We were kind of a novelty in Madison; people always stopped and stared at us. We had three or four fellows from the Army who used to come up on weekends. Whenever we went out to eat, we'd walk into a restaurant and there would be lots of noise until we walked in, and then there would be absolute silence and people would be turning and looking at us.


Hansen

Were the servicemen Nisei?


Embrey

Yes. A couple of them were from the Hawaiian 100th Battalion and the others were Nisei from the camps who had either volunteered or were drafted.


Hansen

Did you date interracially when you were in Madison?


Embrey

I don't remember that I ever did. There were groups of fellows that we went out with as a group, but I don't remember that we had a date with any of them. In Chicago I did, but not in Madison.


Hansen

Did you receive a certain amount of hostility when you were out publicly on an interracial date?


Embrey

No, I didn't get any of that, or at least I don't remember it. We did have two incidents in Madison when I was with my roommate and her brother, who was working on his doctorate in engineering at the University of Wisconsin--he had been enrolled there during the prewar period. The family had sent her back East to join him, so that she


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never went to camp. Her middle brother took the parents and went to camp with them. We were in this restaurant eating when a soldier came by and started talking to us. He got kind of nasty and we figured, well, he was drunk, he had had a couple of drinks too many. But he started making cracks about how he didn't like Japs, and "We're fighting a war and what are you doing here?" Finally, my girl friend's brother invited him to sit down at the booth and talk, and to not lean over us the way he was. So he sat down and we talked, but that he had never met any Japanese before, and that we were nice to at least let him talk to us and not have the manager throw him out. He wanted us to go over to the USO with him but we said that we didn't think we ought to go because we were civilians. Anyway, we got out of that. Another time a soldier stopped us and wanted to know where we were from. He said he was from California and had some very good Japanese friends, and he wanted to know what camp we had gone to because he was trying to locate his friends. He said, "I don't really know where they took them." We told him we were from Los Angeles, but he was from a small town up north. He mentioned the names of the friends and we said we didn't know anyone by that name. But he stopped us on the street. I guess that was really about the only thing that happened.


Hansen

Would you characterize your stay in Madison and Chicago as happier, say, than when you'd been in Los Angeles? Did you feel a sense of exhilaration or perhaps liberation from certain kinds of defined situations as a result of being on your own?


Embrey

Yes. I used to think about that, because I had finished high school just before the war and there was a lot of talk about war was going to start between Japan and the United States, and people were thinking of packing up and leaving and going back to Japan. When I was in Chicago I used to think what would have happened to me if there had been no war, and I had stayed working in my family's little store and never really gotten out of it. It was just right outside of Little Tokyo, and the people I saw were all Japanese. Our customers were mostly Japanese. It seemed like we were in such an enclosed area. I felt that I had a lot more freedom in Madison and in Chicago. Although I lived with my brother, he never questioned me about who I went out with or anything like that. My two best girl friends were also working in the library. One was a black woman from Texas, who had her master's degree, and the other woman was from a small town in Iowa. We went everywhere together, the three of us. They both got married after I left Chicago. I did see Dorothy, the gal from Iowa, a couple of years ago when she came out here with her husband. I've never seen Mamie, the girl from Texas, after she was married, so I don't know where she's gone to. I still write to people at the library, two or three, fairly regularly.


Hansen

Let me ask you a rather frank question: Before the war, were there times that you felt a certain amount of "shame" at being Japanese? And when you were in Chicago and Madison, did you feel that you had escaped, in part, the "stigma" of the community?



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Embrey

No, I think the "shame" started after the war started. I know when a group of us were talking in terms of identity, I said, "I don't think I really had that kind of a problem when I was living in Los Angeles." I was aware that there were people who said things, because I was reading the papers and my father had always talked about it. I know that when my husband first urged me to go back to school I had said to him, "Gee, I never got to college and I sure would like to try." It bothered me that here my husband was urging me to go to college and go on with my degree because I could remember my father saying to me, "You've got two strikes against you, you're Japanese and you're a woman, and you're living in the United States. Don't have these ambitions of going to college." It took me a long time to really get over that. I would take one course one semester, and two courses the next semester; sometimes I would sign up for three and drop one. I kept doing this for a long time, until finally my husband said, "You know, the kids are going to be in college by the time you get through, so you better hurry up and finish." So I started going full time. Actually, I didn't get my B.A. degree until 1969.


Hansen

What year was it that you got married?


Embrey

Nineteen fifty.


Hansen

Were you working back in Los Angeles as a clerk for the city?


Embrey

Yes. I was working for the County of Los Angeles, but by this time I had had a couple of promotions through examination, and I was one of the secretaries to the county health officer, who was in charge of the entire county health facility. I remember that at the time I was interviewed for the job I was asking for a transfer because I was working with a woman, a supervisor that I couldn't stand, and rather than a promotion I was asking for a transfer and I was not on the list. The health officer, Dr. Gilbert, had interviewed the three top people on the list and he wasn't happy with them, at which point my name was brought in. Several people in the department went to him and said they didn't want a Japanese girl sitting at the reception desk in front, where the public would be. He laughed at them. He told me that he didn't really know whether he could get me a transfer there because he had these three names that he really had to interview first. He interviewed them a couple of times, and he wasn't happy with them, so he asked the business manager to allow for some kind of arrangement so I could transfer. Actually, we were in the same building, so it was just a matter of transferring upstairs. I didn't find out about these people protesting about my getting the job until about six or seven months later, and he told me about it himself. He was really a nice guy. I think one of the things that kind of led to Dr. Gilbert retiring early was the loyalty oath that everyone--city, county and state employees--was asked to sign. The two men he liked the best in the department refused to sign, and one of them was the assistant director. He said he was retiring now mainly on principle. The other man who refused to sign was, I think, the head of venereal diseases or statistics or


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some department of that kind. It really, I think, hurt him a lot. Of course, from then on a lot of county employees were fired for not signing. Dr. Gilbert was a real nice man to work for. I came back to Los Angeles in 1948 and I worked for him until 1952, at which time these friends of ours in New Mexico were running a kind of a guest ranch, and they asked my husband to run a children's camp for them for the summer. So we went and spent the summer in New Mexico, and I resigned from the county job. I thought, "When I get back I can find something else."


Hansen

I want to ask you about your marriage. You are in an interracial marriage, and I was wondering if when you were going with your husband and you made a decision to get married you met an awful lot of resistance, both from the Japanese American community and your immediate family, or if you met a certain amount of resistance from your husband's family, your prospective in-laws?


Embrey

The biggest resistance came from my mother. She felt that I was really marrying beneath me. The Japanese consider themselves quite superior to everybody else. She couldn't understand why I couldn't marry a nice Japanese boy, and she kept telling me this two years after my husband and I were married. I'd go see her and she'd say, "Why don't you divorce your husband and marry a nice Japanese boy?" My sister would say, "Oh, Mom. She's married already!" My sister also didn't like the idea, and she said to me, "I wish you wouldn't marry him because you're bringing on a lot of trouble." They felt that the trouble was coming to them as a family rather than just to myself. The rest of my brothers didn't say very much about it. They felt that I was over eighteen and it was up to me to make up my own life, and I had been living with my mother for quite awhile. I was almost twenty-seven before I got married, and they were, I guess, beginning to think I wasn't going to get married at all, although I had been going with a lot of different fellows, and some of them were Nisei, but I really was not happy with them. I guess my mother felt that I was also becoming the rebel of the family, the only one who seemed to have very liberal tendencies. I was very outspoken, and I was taking part in community activities that were not getting that much support from the community. Like as soon as we came back, the northwest corner of Little Tokyo, where the police station is now standing, was condemned to make room for the police station. There were several Japanese hotels and small businesses there then. The Japanese had just come back from the camps and were just beginning to get started, and a group of us formed an antieviction group actually, to fight that change. We weren't getting much support from the community. The people were still worried and scared from the camp experience, and they said, "Well if that's the way it's going to be, we'll just have to leave. We're not going to fight it." We didn't do very much, I don't think, but at least made people aware something was going to happen, because there's still some black families living in those hotels. The hotel owners also didn't support us because when we went in to try to pass our leaflets to the tenants or the roomers, they threw us out.



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Hansen

And they were Japanese, too?


Embrey

They were Japanese.

Because of all of this, I guess, my mother was beginning to feel that I was taking a different path of life than she was used to, and she wasn't ready to accept that. But she wouldn't let me talk to Gar [Embrey] on the phone. If he called me she'd put her finger in and disconnect us.

Just before we got married my mother and I had a real blowup because I had come home at one in the morning. I was sharing one of the bedrooms with her and my brother and his wife and family lived in one section of the house that we had rented, and she had locked me out of the bedroom, so that I was in the house but locked out of the bedroom. So I slept in the living room on a couch, and I got up the next morning to go to work, and she came storming out of the bedroom. She started telling me that I should leave home if I'm going to go around with non-Japanese boy friends, and that I had no business going around with them. I finally said, "It's my life, and I'm going to marry whomever I choose to marry and you cannot tell me what to do. I'm already an adult." At this point she got so mad she threw her slipper at me and my brother said, "Don't get her upset. Go to work. Get out of the house." I said, "Not until I pack a suitcase, because I'm not going to come back." So I ran into the bedroom and locked the door and I packed one suitcase and I ran to the phone and called a cab and ran outside. I didn't know where I was going, really. I couldn't take the suitcase to work with me, it was really still early. So I thought, "Well, maybe I could leave the suitcase in Gar's apartment. I got over there, and he never locked his door, so I left the suitcase in his bedroom and I thought, "Well, now what am I going to do?" He was already at work. So I thought, "Maybe I can call him." So I called him and he was there and I said, "I've left home." "Oh," he says, "Good for you! What are you going to do now?" And I said, "I don't know." He said, "Why don't you go get breakfast and report in for work, and I'll meet you when you finish." Neither one of us had a car at the time; he was working in Beverly Hills and he'd have to take the bus all the way back into Los Angeles. He said, "We can meet at the apartment and we'll have something to eat and then we'll talk about what you're going to do." I said, "Okay." "Don't be too upset," he said, "it's all right." So I called into my job and this young gal that worked with me said, "Go eat breakfast first, you don't have to come in, go get yourself some breakfast and I'll tell them you're coming in later." So I did, I had breakfast by myself and I was thinking about what I was going to do, and what was going to happen, and went to work.

There was a black woman who was an elevator operator that I had gotten to know quite well, and she said to me, "Sue, come and live with us until you decide whether you're going to get married or not." So I said, "Gee that would be the ideal solution." She wouldn't take a penny for the meals I ate there or the room that she gave me. I had


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a huge room with a bath all to myself. She had a two-story house and she was always taking people in like that--friends were always coming over and staying there.

We spent Thanksgiving Day with her and we decided in the meantime we were going to get married. We arranged to get married through a Unitarian minister. I called my sister, my sister-in-law, and my brothers, and I told them what I was going to do, and I said, "You don't have to tell Mom about it, but if you want to come you're invited to come." And I gave them the location. Well, my sister and my sister-in-law showed up, my brothers didn't. Then we drove up to San Francisco--by this time we'd bought a car--and stayed there through Christmas, came back, and had what we called a reception. My husband had a studio that he had rented with some other artists. Some of our friends baked cookies and we made punch, and I again invited my family to come. Two of my brothers and my sister-in-law showed up.

I kept in touch with my family. I sent my mother a Christmas present she never acknowledged; I gave it to my brother to give to her. I never stopped doing the things that I usually did for her, like for her birthday I sent her a present, and stuff like that. She never said anything to my brothers and my brothers never said anything, but through my mother's friends I began to hear things. They were telling my mother that I was an adult, that this was the United States, and that I had married the person I wanted to marry and it was time for her to stop being so old-fashioned.

I guess it was about three or four years after we were married that my sister called to tell me that my mother was going to have a memorial service for my father--for a certain number of years after a death the Buddhist Church has a service--and she said, "I think you ought to be there." And I said, "Well, I don't know. Mom probably won't like that." And she said, "No, you come." So I went, and we sat in the back. Normally the family is supposed to sit in the front, according to your rank in the family. The rest of my family was sitting up in front. They had all gone and offered incense and did the ceremony that you do in front of the shrine, and then the priest said that now the rest of the friends could go up and do it. My mother's very good friend was sitting behind me, and she said, "You belong to that family. You go up there first." And she pushed me and my husband up there before she went. Afterwards I got to talking to her and she said, "Now, we've been telling your mother it's time she quit this kind of stuff." But my mother never acknowledged that we were there. She never said a word to us, and we left after talking with my brothers and sisters.

While we were in New Mexico, my youngest brother had gone into the service. He had volunteered when he was eighteen, and had been sent to Tokyo and was stationed there with the occupation troops. In 1952 my mother got a telegram that he had died, and they had no other details. We didn't know whether he had been sent to Korea--the Korean War had just broken out--and had been killed there or whether he had


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died of an illness in Tokyo. To this day we don't know. They said he collapsed on the street in Tokyo, was taken by ambulance to the military hospital and that he never gained consciousness. The doctor thought that possibly he might have had some kind of blood clot that ended up in his lungs and stopped his breathing. My sister called me, and my brother wrote me and said, "We're all going back to Los Angeles for the service when his body is sent back." This was a couple of months before his body was actually returned because of all this trouble of how he had died.

When I found out the date I left the camp in New Mexico and went back to Los Angeles for the service. My mother didn't talk to me. I stayed with my sister, and my brothers and sisters said they were glad to see me and we talked about how my brother had died. I returned within a couple of days back to New Mexico. My sister told me later that my mother asked why I had gone back so soon, and why I hadn't stayed. And my sister said, "Because you didn't talk to her, you wouldn't say anything to her, you wouldn't acknowledge that she was here and she said she didn't think it was worth staying and so she went back to New Mexico."

From then on things got a little bit better and my mother would talk to me if I called her on the phone, and I would see her occasionally, like when we were down in Little Tokyo I would run into her. I would stop at the church to see if she was there on Sunday, and she would talk to us. We'd see her at Thanksgiving--my brother always had a big family thing going. Then one New Year's Day we were at her house, and she served Gar a little jigger of whiskey and said, "Here, Happy New Year!" And he said that was the turning point, she was willing to accept him into the family.

Since then it's been fine, especially when the kids were born. She came over and helped. I guess the idea of having grandchildren around is a big thing in the Japanese family, so things have really gotten along pretty well. She depends a lot on me now, more than the rest of the family, and if she has some problem she calls me on the phone. Seems like twice a week she has to talk to me about something.


Hansen

You didn't have any comparable difficulties with your husband's family, did you?


Embrey

No, my husband wrote a letter to his aunt, who was living near Pomona at the time--she had no children but she was the closest relative that he had outside of his mother who was living in the Los Angeles area-- and she wrote and told him that as far as she was concerned it didn't matter who he married; as long as he was happy, she was going to accept me. And she did, she was very nice to us; she always invited us out there for dinner, and we would spend Sunday with her.

Then her husband had a heart attack and they decided to retire and go back to San Antonio, Texas, where the family came from. They kept writing to us to come out and visit, and my husband said he didn't


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want to go back there. Finally, in 1968, they decided to have the World's Hemisfair in San Antonio, and early in the year the three aunts that he had back there started writing us, "We've already bought the tickets, and we expect you to come, so let us know when you're coming, we'll pick you up, and you can stay with us." They had already made arrangements, and wouldn't take "No" for an answer.

So we decided we'd go for two weeks and we kind of prepared our kids for the kind of things they might have there, you know, if the faucets are marked "colored" and "white," what are you supposed to do? And the kinds of words that could be used that might kind of shock them. "At least," we said, " we want you to be prepared."

But we were accepted as part of the family, and my husband went around trying to remember his cousins that he had played with when he was six or seven. There was one young fellow who lived across the street . . . The whole clan lived in one block--parents here, father and son and daughter there. They all lived in one block and they laughingly called it Embreyville.

We went to a Christmas party, and we thought they were going to invite their neighbors, but it turned out to be just a family thing. His cousin took one look at me and his face turned absolutely white. He wasn't prepared. He didn't know that his cousin had married a Japanese. He was the only one, evidently, who had never thought of it. He knew his cousin was married and had kids, but he had never seen a photograph or anything that we had sent to the aunts. I just kind of looked at him, and he didn't say a word, but I knew that he was shocked. None of the others ever said anything, they just sort of invited me in.

All the women were in the kitchen, all the men were in the living room, and I sat in the living room on the couch next to my husband. We were talking for a few minutes and all of a sudden the cousin looked at me and said, "Would you like to go join the ladies in the kitchen?" So I said, "All right," and I just went. It was all mantalk: hunting deer in winter, how much they paid the farmer just to sit up in the tree waiting for deer to come by, things like that. The women were concerned with their kids and problems they were having with their in-laws, and neither my husband or I could stand it; it was just a little bit too domestic for us. So the rest of the time that we were there we tried to spend as much time at the Hemisfair as we could, and we would only eat breakfast or dinner with them.

I remember at one point we went to the cottage that one of the uncles had near the coast, on the Gulf of Mexico. He said, "Well, I think you might enjoy seeing the ocean from that end of it." We were talking around the table after dinner and one of the uncles brought up the subject of sizes of brains, how different racial groups were supposed to be smarter because their brains were bigger. (laughing) And my husband said, "You know the most retarded person in the world had the biggest brain?" And he was trying to make a joke of it, but


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they started talking about how Eskimos have the smallest brains and that's why they weren't very bright; you know, they lived up there in the snow and ice. It never occurred to them, that here I was sitting at the table with them; it never crossed their mind that I was a minority person. I think it's almost part of their daily talk. I know by the end of the first week my husband said, "Should we change our reservations and go home?" I said, "No, it's all right." Our kids played with the children of the cousins and they didn't really get any flak from them.


Hansen

How about your kids? As they've been growing up, what has been their degree of identification with the Japanese American community? Have their friendship circles been largely Caucasian or have they been mixed? How would you characterize them?


Embrey

My older son has mostly had friends who were not Japanese. Some of them were mixed, one was part Korean and part Scandanavian, and still another one was part Filipino--I think his mother had an English and Scotch background. All of the other boys that he went to school with, through high school, were not Japanese. When he was five, one of the kids in his kindergarten class called him a "Jap" and he came home and he said, "I'm not a `Jap,' am I?" And my son Gary said, "Dad, explain it to me." So his dad tried to tell him that he was a mixture of both his mother and father, and that Dad came from Texas but he also had Scotch and English background and that I had a Japanese background. For several months after that he would say, "My dad is a Texan, my mother is Japanese, but I'm not." He was six before he got . . . I think it went on for about a year. He had a friend who was part Irish and part Jewish, and he would say to my son, "Gary, we're all mixed. Don't feel so bad about it. I'm half of my mother and half of my dad, and you're half of your mother and half of your dad. We're all mixed, everybody is mixed." It wasn't until we got him into a summer camp which emphasized a lot of the different cultural foods, and took field trips to different areas, that he got over that. We purposely sent him to the camp for that reason. On one of the field trips they went to Little Tokyo and he recognized all the places that his grandmother went to, the Buddhist Church and the market where we'd gone to shop for things and I had taken him along; you know, all of those shops along First Street. He came home and he was so excited because he had gone down to where Grandma's church was. After that I think he began to accept it more, so that when he was in junior high school and they were talking in a history class, he said to his teacher, "I'm Japanese. I'm part Japanese." And his teacher said, "You'd never know it, from your name or from the way you look. You really don't look Japanese. And he said, "Well, my mother is Japanese." Most of his friends have accepted him on that basis, and he hasn't had that much of a problem.


Hansen

Is this the youngest of your two boys?


Embrey

No, my older one. My younger one has sort of accepted more of the Japanese since he was very little, I guess more because he identified with me. My older son is almost like a twin of his dad and they have


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a lot of things in common, and my older son was, I think, more readily able to identify with his dad.


Hansen

Does your younger son look more Japanese?


Embrey

Yes, he does. In fact, he looks very Eurasian. He's never had, at least, I don't think he's had that much of a problem as far as identity. When I started working more in the Japanese community, they started to identify more also. They don't have any real friends among the Asians, partly, I think, because of the neighborhood where we live. We have never been on a street where there were kids of their age. That was always a big problem with us. We'd always have to carpool them somewhere. Most of the ones that they played with happened to be in the same nursery school or same grammar school. So they've been out with more non-Asians.


Hansen

When did you, in the postwar period, start to work more in the Japanese American community?


Embrey

After I was married in 1950 I didn't have too much to do with community groups; there weren't too many political activities going on. I joined the neighborhood Democratic Club, and I did see some of my friends, but we never had any kind of a group that was organized. There was a West Jefferson Democratic Club, which was considered kind of a liberal Democratic club, and it was all Japanese. There were a few Chinese in it, but that sort of disbanded in the 1950s, and my husband and I got more involved in our local Democratic Club in the neighborhood. So I sort of drifted away from the Japanese community during the 1950s, and I didn't get back to it until I was at Cal State Los Angeles in 1968. Let's see, I started there in 1966, but it was around 1967 or 1968 when the San Francisco State strike and all of these things were happening, and by the end of 1968 people were talking at the Cal State campus about forming an ethnic studies group. Black studies and Chicano studies got started there and some of the Asian students thought we should get a couple of Asian history classes going, or Asian American history. So I was involved in a study group there most of 1969, but I was about ready to graduate so I wasn't really that involved until toward the end, maybe the summer and the last quarter of 1969. We did get an instructor, we did get a class going, and it was so full that they had to divide the class in two and get two instructors. They did get some money and an office on campus, but there wasn't much more than that.

Then I went over to the University of Southern California to work on my master's, so I kind of dropped out of that group and started doing my intern and student teaching. That was in Culver City. I was going to a few meetings.

Then around 1970 I saw a notice in the paper that there was a task force trying to form an Asian American Education Commission to advise the Los Angeles City Board of Education. They had organized the Black Education Commission and the Mexican American Commission after some high school students had walked out and caused a student strike. One was in East Los Angeles with the Chicano students and one was in a predominantly


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black high school. So the Los Angeles School District administration thought it might be a good idea to form a commission and try to identify problems, if they existed in the Asian communities. So I got involved in 1970 and 1971 with helping to write the proposal for a commission, holding meetings in different parts of the city had a couple in Chinatown, one in Gardena, a couple in the Japanese community, and we got the commission formed. I was asked to put my name for nomination as one of the commissioners, to be elected by ballot. We had something like forty-five names on the ballot and we were supposed to pick a total of twenty-seven, and then three would be appointed to kind of balance geographically, ethnically, and occupationally, because we had decided on five ethnic groups in the twelve geographic areas of the city school district, plus grass-roots community people, teachers, and students, and they didn't want one ethnic group or one occupational group predominating. I was elected for the first year and helped get the commission going, and I served as its secretary. From then on I got involved in other things. A group of young girls wanted to help other girls who had been on drugs and formal a group called Asian Sisters, so I would go to their meetings and help them a little bit. By that time we were talking about starting the Manzanar Committee, so I didn't want to get involved in too many other things.


Hansen

Who is the we that we're starting to talk about forming the Manzanar Committee?


Embrey

After the San Francisco State College strike, a group of college students became involved in setting up Asian American studies programs on different campuses, and one of the things they wanted to talk about was the evacuation and internment period. Most of them complained, to me and to others, that their parents didn't want to talk about it, that the information was not coming from their parents, and they wanted personal interviews, personal experiences. So around 1969 they decided to have a pilgrimage to Manzanar, and they picked December 27. When they told me about it and asked if I would be interested in going, I said, "You picked a terrible time of year. It's going to be cold up there." And their answer was, "That's why we picked it; we want these young people to know what it was like physically, and then from there on we can talk about camp experiences." I don't know if you have anything in your oral history collection of that first pilgrimage from anybody else. Do you?


Hansen

No, we don't.


Embrey

You don't. Okay, there were two television networks that covered that event; one was NBC, the other was CBS. I think ABC also had some coverage.


Hansen

There wasn't a committee that was . . .


Embrey

There was no real committee. There was a group that called itself an umbrella organization, the Organization of Asian American Organizations, which had just been formed. The whole idea had come from


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Reverend Mayeda, who was a Buddhist minister in Manzanar. Since the close of the camp he had been going every year with his family and had conducted his own Buddhist service once a year for people who were buried at Manzanar. He had a son going to UCLA, and he suggested to these young students, "If you really want to start getting action and getting your parents to talk about the camps, why don't you have a pilgrimage up there?" So they decided to have one, and they didn't really expect a lot of people, just a few college people who were willing to drive up there, maybe go up to Mammoth [ski resort north of Manzanar site] for the weekend and come back, but they started getting a lot of phone calls from people who wanted rides, that didn't want to drive up there. So they got a bus, a small school bus type, and they didn't want to really bother with those things because it meant, you know, you had to get money in advance and figure out how many people were going to make reservations. I don't think the bus held more than thirty-eight or so. Then they decided that they would charge and would furnish lunches for the people who were going up there. But they also told people to bring tools, for they were going to have a work day cleaning up the camp area.

I told my husband that I had not been back to Manzanar since I left and that I wanted to go back with this group. It was winter and would be very cold and I didn't think we should take our boys with us. My younger son was having a whole series of ear infections at that time and we decided it really wouldn't be a good idea to expose him to the cold. We left the kids with my mother and sister and drove to Little Tokyo to board the bus. When we got there and saw the bus, which was a school bus, my husband said it would be an uncomfortable five-hour ride and we should take our car. We gave up our seats to two other people. There were quite a few without reservations, hoping they could get on. We picked up two fellows standing on the sidewalk and took them with us. We have a small Volkswagen squareback, and by the time we hit the town of Mojave, the wind was blowing so hard it was really hard to drive the car. We got gas in Mojave and my husband asked me to drive since he said I knew the way from there. I didn't know the way but since he'd been driving for two hours, I took over. We were on Highway 395 and outside of Mojave a car had turned over and half a dozen people were giving assistance. I recognized some of the people, but they waved us on and we didn't want to stop and block traffic on a narrow two-lane road. We stopped and had a second breakfast at Olancha. After we passed the town of Lone Pine, nine miles south of Manzanar, my husband kept asking me if I remembered any sights and how far was it to Manzanar. I kept looking at the mountains and thinking, "It must be around here somewhere." I kept looking for landmarks and my husband said; "It says Manzanar Street on that sign." I answered that it was probably the road to the airport, as I remembered there was an airport across the highway from Manzanar. "Well, we're getting close," my husband said, "don't you recognize anything?" I mentioned that there was a grove of trees and I remembered an alluvial fan--a term I acquired in a college geography class many years later--and a stream that ran down from the mountains. Those were landmarks that I remembered. Soon, we saw the stone house and a guide waving us on the entrance to the cemetery a mile away. We didn't stop at the


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stone entrance at that time for any ceremonial affair; the students were more concerned about cleaning the cemetery [situated behind the campsite], because they were going to have a religious service. When we pulled up I was really surprised at the number of cars; the bus hadn't shown up yet. Here were the NBC and CBS camera crews all set up, and they were really in the way. Our guys were getting a little bit annoyed. Finally Warren Furutani, who was one of the coordinators, turned to me and said, "Sue, take care of the media people for us, get them out of our way." So I said, "All right." Everytime one of them would start interviewing anybody else, they would be told, "Go see Sue Embrey over there." I got involved in this thing, with interviews with NBC and CBS, and Karl Yoneda and his wife Elaine joined the group, so actually we didn't do any work; we did very little work. We were constantly being bombarded with questions from these guys. It was icy and cold and the wind was whistling. And NBC was asking, "Was it really this cold? We had to stop in Lone Pine and buy gloves and ski caps and mufflers because it was so cold." They had flown in from Los Angeles. I said, "Yes, it was this cold, but at least we had barracks to get into. They weren't much warmer, but it kept us from the wind." They wanted to know how many people lived there; they asked all kinds of questions.

By six o'clock that night they had taken off and it was on national television. And it really had tremendous influence in the Japanese communities, because it was the talk of all the Little Tokyos for months and months--how these young people had gone up to Manzanar. And the television showed them with their tools raking away all the sagebrush and the tumbleweed, and then it showed people sitting there, cold and shivering, huddled around a fire, and eating lunch together. A friend of mine down in Santa Ana saw it and said that he flipped on all three stations and it was on all three of them for at least five minutes. So he said, "You got a lot of publicity on that thing."


Hansen

How many people were there for the pilgrimage?


Embrey

There were close to two hundred and fifty, and that was really much more than they expected. One of the people who came was a man who during the war was part of the military police group guarding the Manzanar camp. He recalled that it was one of the happiest times of his career as a soldier, as a draftee. There were some blacks there who were trying to sort of connect it to their movement. Mostly young people. I was disappointed that there weren't more Nisei. There were quite a number of Issei. There was a woman who was something like eighty-two years old who came back, who said she had relocated to Chicago. There was a woman there who had been with the first contingent of evacuees [who came to Manzanar in March 1942], the volunteers. I guess there were only like five women who had come at that time. She was single and in her early twenties when she arrived at Manzanar and left immediately afterward to work for the United Methodist Church back East, so she didn't stay very long. But she was there, and she said that she came because she was very annoyed that the Nisei weren't doing anything in politics or with


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problems of the community, and she said, "I've been talking about these things, and I thought I'd better follow it up with some action, so I came." The Los Angeles Times interviewed us, and we really got a lot of coverage.

All through 1970 we were trying to organize the Manzanar Committee, and we would get a few nibbles but nobody really came to any of our meetings. We used to have about four or five people, and we'd talk about, well, should we organize? And what could we do with the place up there? One day the Los Angeles Water and Power Department [who owns the land encompassing the Manzanar site] sent the Japanese American Citizens League, through the mail, a lease to the cemetery area of Manzanar and said, "You can have it." The JACL really didn't want it at the time, but it happened that Warren Furutani was working as National Youth Coordinator out of Los Angeles.


Hansen

For the JACL?


Embrey

For the JACL. They'd decided they ought to incorporate some of the young activists into JACL, so they hired Warren and he was working as National Coordinator. He called me on the phone and he said, "You know, there's a lot of interest among the young people; I'm getting a lot of calls; would it be all right if I used you as a resource person for them to come to? Because they're writing papers, and they keep telling me that their parents don't want to talk about it." So I said, "Okay." Kids started to come to me, and I would show them what I had in terms of photographs of Manzanar and talk about my own experiences. Toward the end of 1970 we formed a small committee and we kept sending notices out saying we were having these meetings. Very few people would show up.


Hansen

Were you calling yourself the Manzanar Committee?


Embrey

At the time we were calling ourselves the Manzanar Project Committee. Warren had a column in the Pacific Citizen, the weekly newspaper of JACL, and a couple of times he had mentioned that we were trying to form this committee, asking, "What would you like Manzanar to be? Would you like it to be a historical landmark? What kind of input can I get from you?" He wasn't getting very much response. Finally, Warren and I decided we would go ahead and form the committee anyway and see what happened. By 1971 we had maybe eight or ten people who decided to stay with the group and really work on it. We did a lot of research and got an application from the state. The word was that the state was willing to do away with several things that really were required and make it a landmark. One of the things was that it had to be a place or an incident which was not within the living memory of man.


Hansen

What do they usually mean when they say that?


Embrey

Fifty years. They said they would be willing to set that aside and let us have Manzanar as a landmark. We started to do research, and the things they wanted to know were: What significance does Manzanar have


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today? Why was it of particular interest when there were ten camps altogether? The justifications we used were: one, it was the first camp that was built; secondly, it was the nearest camp to Los Angeles, where there is the biggest number of Japanese Americans living and where most of the internees at Manzanar had come from; and thirdly, that there was a cemetery at Manzanar, and we wanted it preserved as a landmark. We sent a lot of photographs up to Sacramento with the application, and we turned in our proposed wording from the very beginning. It was, first of all, too long. We knew there was a sixty-word limit, but we decided that we would go all out and that we could always back down.


Hansen

Who composed the wording?


Embrey

The words were written by three people on the committee. We broke ourselves up into groups: a group of three of us worked on the history of Manzanar and its significance to California history, three others worked on the plaque wording, and then another group selected photographs to accompany our application to the state.


Hansen

Do you remember the three who worked on the wording?


Embrey

One actually had a kind of a wording he wanted himself, already written when he came to the meeting. That was Rex Takahashi, a Sansei whose parents had lived in Manzanar--he was their only son--and one of the original members of the committee. After we turned in the application he got a scholarship to work on his master's degree at Roosevelt University in Chicago, so he went there to study political science. Rex and, let's see, who else? I think there was a woman who worked with him, Faye Matsuoka, whose husband Jim had spoken at the 1969 pilgrimage. His one quote got some very negative responses from the Nisei. An NBC reporter asked him, "How many people are buried here in the cemetery?" and he said, "A whole generation. A whole generation of Japanese who are now so frightened that they will not talk. They're quiet Americans. They're all buried here." And they took that one quote and it was broadcast all over, so the reaction from the second generation was really very negative. Jim was only about seven when he went to camp—he stayed there all three years—and he said it took him a long time to really look back and think about the consequences of the evacuation, in his own life and in the lives of other people. He was on our committee. I think he worked on the history of Manzanar, but his wife helped on the wording. There was one more person. I think Warren Furutani helped on the wording. I helped on the research of the history of Manzanar and its significance as a landmark. We had the Rundstrom brothers, who are twins, Ron and Don Rundstrom, who are both working on their doctoral dissertations here [at UCLA].


Hansen

They're both Caucasians?


Embrey

Yes, they're both Swedish Americans. Don is married to a young Sansai girl whose father was in Manzanar. They were also on the original committee. Ron and his girl friend Pat Rosa, who is also non-Japanese, have been on the committee from the very beginning. After Rex left we


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got Ken Honji interested, and we had Amy Ishii, who came in after the 9066 exhibit in Pasadena. I invited her to be on the committee. She was unable to come. We had two other women who occasionally helped us and who were there at the original meeting: Kiku Uno, who is Amy's sister-in-law, and Toshi Yoshida, who is quite active in Democratic clubs and politics. Toshi was just recently elected as a commissioner to the city Human Relations Council by Mayor Tom Bradley. She doesn't remember being at the working meeting, but I do because she said, "Those are awfully strong words." And we said, "Well, should we rewrite the whole thing?" And she said, "Well, I don't think they're going to take that; they're not going to like those words." But then we talked about it, we passed it around, we changed a few words, and my husband looked at it and said that it was pretty strong--everybody thought it was pretty strong--but we decided, "Well, at least we could back up if they don't want it; at least let's have a starting point." It was ninety words long.

They okayed our application in January of 1972; it was sent in November of 1971. We got word through Warren Furutani of the JACL that it was now a historic landmark. We sort of thought it would be the cemetery area. But because we put the plaque by the stone house at the camp entrance, I guess that is really going to be the central landmark, although we probably will negotiate for a new lease for the whole area, and Water and Power is very cooperative.

In 1972 we sent out a news release that Manzanar was now part of a state historical landmark and that we would probably have a pilgrimage there the weekend before Easter vacation started, when most of the college students would be free. So we made plans for it and the Pioneer Project came in and helped--they got busses for the Issei. Let's see, I think I drove up Saturday, yes, early Saturday morning. We got there early and my husband insisted on stopping at Joseph's Department Store to buy a pair of pants, and he disappeared! We had stopped for gas, and I was going into the market to get some soda pop, and the . . .


Hansen

This was in Lone Pine?


Embrey

Yes, this was in Lone Pine. And the Manzanar Committee people up there at Manzanar were having stitches because I hadn't shown up. They said, "Gee, maybe we'd better send the car out, maybe they had an accident." So anyway, we came driving in at eleven o'clock, when everybody had already just about finished their job of cleaning the cemetery area. Some of the media again grabbed me, and we took a few shots around there. I stood and watched, because I really had nothing to do until the program was going to begin. And I saw all these people coming across the field from the MP sentry house, which they had cleaned up. They were coming back to the cemetery area, which is about a mile, I think, with all their tools, and I stood there and I couldn't believe it. I just didn't realize that so many people had come. I had seen all the cars in the lot, and I thought, "Gee, there are a lot of people," but the group had divided in half, and half had stayed at the cemetery area cleaning, while the other


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half had walked over to the entrance. I asked how many people had shown up, and Warren said that he thought that someone had estimated seven hundred and fifty. I couldn't believe it.


Hansen

Excuse me, Sue, but you mentioned the first pilgrimage in 1969 and now we're talking about the one in 1972. Were there pilgrimages in the intervening two years?


Embrey

There was none in 1970, and 1971 we tried to get--I think it was 1971--a group to go up to Manzanar over Memorial Day weekend. I think only about twenty-five or so showed up. I think the core of the group that had helped with the pilgrimage went up in 1971. There was a group going from a Pioneer Project in a bus, who had not been interned in camp, Issei mostly, and they wanted to see what the camp was like. Because they were mostly Buddhist they wanted to have a service there. The young people felt that they didn't want to let them go up by themselves, so they asked for a few people to come. So we spent the weekend in Lone Pine, and I remember it was Memorial Day weekend. There were about maybe twenty-five young people there. After they had their service then they went on up to Reno, I think, and they were going to kind of make a round trip, sort of a sight-seeing tour for the weekend. The other young people decided to camp out in Gray's Meadow [north of the Manzanar camp]. We had lunch there and then we came on back to Los Angeles. So actually there was no real big pilgrimage until 1972, and then the last one was in 1973. Some people say that there were only a thousand at the 1973 pilgrimage in April, but the Lone Pine newspaper estimated 1500. So it almost doubled. Again, there were very few Nisei, the second generation that Jim said had died there. There were a few more, but not that many.


Hansen

Coming back to the 1972 pilgrimage, you have mentioned that Manzanar was accepted by the state as a historical site, but you still have not straightened out what wording the state accepted to appear on the plaque.


Embrey

Right. In 1972, after the committee had okayed Manzanar as a landmark, we heard nothing about the wording. Then Warren called me one day and said that he had word from the JACL officer near Sacramento that the Parks and Recreation committee thought our wording was too strong, and could we possibly not only shorten it but also compromise with the state and make it a little less explosive. We shortened the wording to the maximum of sixty, but we, after reading it over, felt that it was even stronger because of our having to shorten it. We weren't so sure that the State Advisory Committee would accept it. We heard nothing from them until around August, when Warren and I were going to fly to Catalina Island and meet with the advisory committee. But Warren got very involved in JACL activities and he said he really didn't have time to take off, so could we just skip it. So the Manzanar wording didn't get on the agenda. That was August of 1972.

In August I was away on a trip to Japan with my family when Mr. John Michael from the advisory committee evidently flew down to Los Angeles to meet with the JACL people. They couldn't get hold of Warren--it was


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a Saturday morning meeting--and by this time Warren had resigned from the JACL because of the differences in policy and things. The whole group of Los Angeles staff people had resigned. He said he thought it was just a JACL meeting, so he hadn't even thought of going to it. They couldn't reach me, so they had some people in the office, who were working there, sit in as part of the Manzanar Committee, which we said was okay, and they had discussed the wording at that time. The people who sat in on the meeting backed our wording against the state. The state was working on a different version of the wording, but they were taking out the words which we felt were the most important. Anyway, they went back to Sacramento. I got a call in early October that two of the JACL people were going to meet up in a small town near Fresno--one was the legal counsel; the other one was the vice president of the JACL--and they were going to discuss Manzanar. At the time, Warren and I couldn't figure out why they were consistently talking through JACL and giving us thirdhand information. We didn't find out until later why this was being done, but they had a meeting in October . . .


Hansen

Who is "they?"


Embrey

The advisory committee of the State Parks and Recreation Department--which usually suggests the different landmarks--Jim Murakami, who was vice-president of JACL in charge of research, I think, and Frank Iwama, the attorney, who lives in Sacramento. Helen Kawagoe, who was then the district governor of the Pacific Southwest District of JACL, called me and said that these two fellows were going to meet with the state and that they were going to back us up on the wording that we had sent up, the shortened version, except that they thought maybe the last word we had in there, which was a Japanese word, really didn't have any meaning. So she wondered whether it would be all right to take it out? That word was tondemonai, which means "incredible," "it never happened," "I can't believe it." It's an expression that Japanese people use when they can't think of anything else. So I said, "Okay, it's all right." And Warren said, "Okay." But it never occurred to us that we should have been up there, that we were Manzanar Committee people and we should have been up there.

On October 30 I got an air mail letter from Edison Uno, Amy Ishii's brother, with a photostat copy of a UPI dispatch from Truckee, California, which said that the State Advisory Committee on Historical Landmarks had turned down, completely, the wording for the Manzanar plaque. I called Jim Murakami and we talked about the possibility of compromising. And at this point he really didn't want to get involved, because he felt that we were really pushing too hard on the state, and he didn't want to get caught in the middle. I said to him, "Why is it that the JACL is getting all the correspondence and the Manzanar Committee is not? I said, "I know Warren was working for JACL, but the application was sent in the name of the Manzanar Committee, cosponsored by JACL plus a lot of other groups up in the Owens Valley." And he said, "Well, the state said that they had to rewrite your application because it was all wrong; it was on an old form, and in retyping it they took it upon themselves to decide that the Manzanar


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Committee was a subcommittee of the JACL. So your name does not appear on the application." I said, "Jim, you're going to have to explain this to the Manzanar Committee because they're not going to accept that. They did all the work and JACL is getting all the credit." So he promised to come down and talk to us. It was not until the beginning of December that he was able to take time off to come down to Los Angeles, and the Manzanar Committee was told this by Jim, and they really got mad.


Hansen

Is Jim a Nisei?


Embrey

He's a Nisei, yes.


Hansen

Had he been in the camps?


Embrey

Yes, he was in the camps.


Hansen

In Manzanar?


Embrey

No, he wasn't in Manzanar; I'm not sure which camp he was in. Anyway, they said to him, "We want that application changed. We want the Manzanar Committee's name to be on there. We don't want to have to work through a third party all the time." From October through December phone calls were coming to me from Jim, transmitting messages from the state, and I said, "I don't like that. It makes it very topsy-turvy. We don't know what's going on. We want to follow the guidelines set by the state so we won't be in trouble later with the community, who will say, `Well, you didn't do what the state wanted and that's why they don't want the wording.'" I said, "The committee really feels that they have to go though all the different steps and make sure that we follow the guidelines." So he said, "All right, I'll make sure that the thing gets changed." I sat down and wrote letters to the state, asking them what had to be done in order to change the application so as to include the Manzanar Committee. Anyway, Jim asked us what we were going to do. We told him that we had decided that first, we were going to send out a news release saying that we thought that the state was taking a very unreasonable position, and second, we were going to ask the people in the community to either support us or not support us by sending letters to the state, and thirdly, if that didn't work, we would go out and get petitions signed. Jim's answer was, "JACL cannot support you on that. You will have to fight that fight yourself." We said, "Okay, we can always make copies of the petitions and letters and send them out to the media and get publicity on it, and I'm sure the state wouldn't like that. And we can always get the Democrats to put pressure on the Republican governor."

So we decided that we would not write a reply to the state on their turning us down. We would play it real cool. And from Christmas until January 30, 1973, we sent out letters to all the people we could think of, all the organizations we could think of, and asked them to support our wording, and we sent them a copy of our wording and a copy of the state wording so that they could compare. The


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state got twelve letters, of which two opposed our wording; we had close to fifty, of which two opposed our wording. Petitions came in from Chicago, New York, and different parts of the Midwest, and when I counted I think there were something like three hundred and fifty signatures on the petition supporting our wording. By the end of January we decided, "Okay, now we can negotiate with the state. We can tell them we have the support of the community."

By this time the state was getting a little fidgety, and asked Jim Murakami to try to negotiate on the wording. So Jim called and asked if the Manzanar Committee could directly negotiate with the State Advisory Committee by coming to Sacramento and having a meeting with them. And I said, "Well, that would mean we'd have to take time off from work, and the committee's going to have to raise money for plane fare. Unless we can really work something out, the committee doesn't feel like sending anybody up there." I said, "Warren told us of one experience when he sat there and they screamed at him, they just really tore into him. And he said that in self-defense he finally yelled back. And if that's the kind of a meeting it's going to be, we don't want to have anything to do with it." So Jim called the state back and evidently talked about some of our feelings, and then he called me back and said, "They would still like to meet with you." So we met on February 4. Amy Ishii and I flew up there because the committee felt that possibly people who had been interned in the camps would have a better argument for the wording. We took some books and stuff with us. Amy took Estelle Ishigo's Lone Heart Mountain and I took copies of my The Lost Years.

So this was February of 1973 already, and we had set the pilgrimage date for April 14, which was the weekend before Easter. That announcement had already gone out to the community by December, and we said that even though we are still having this controversy over the wording of the plaque we will go ahead with our pilgrimage. If necessary, we will put up some kind of plaque of our own.

On February 14 the meeting was held in the State Parks and Recreation offices in Sacramento with Jim Murakami, of JACL, Amy Ishii and myself representing the Manzanar Committee, Mr. John Michael, Executive Secretary of the Landmarks Advisory Committee, Mrs. Kathryn Kaiser, who had just been elected chairperson of the advisory committee, and Mr. David Tucker, who was the State Parks and Recreation historian. We talked, and we broke the wording down almost word by word and tried to explain to them how we felt. Mr. Michael and Mr. Tucker and Mrs. Kaiser said they had no objection to the term "concentration camp," which had been the one term that they said originally they didn't want. They also said that words like "racism" and "greed" were very explosive words, and they were also words which were editorializing a person's point of view, and that normally on state plaques this is not done. We said, "Well, nobody told us that." We had never been told not to do that, and here we'd been sending up the wording. Mr. Michael said, "We can make an exception in this case if we can make sure that you have documentation to back you up." And I said, "Well, in terms of racism I think you're aware of the history


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in California of the agitation against the Asian immigrant." He said, "Yes, but that had nothing to do with the war and had nothing to do with the hysteria that was going on, and the people were so frightened." And I said, "Well I think it does. I think that people can be put in a certain stereotype so that an observer is not able to really be reasonable or rational about it." He said, "What about this `greed'? That's a pretty strong word." Mrs. Kaiser said she didn't object to the word "greed," she objected to the fact that we had another word in front of it. "Economic greed," I think we had on it originally. So we said we could take that off. So we hassled around for almost two hours, and wrote different wordings on the board and erased them, and counted the words, and came up with what we thought was a pretty comprehensive kind of thing. They said that they weren't going to go back to the membership of their advisory committee, that Mrs. Kaiser and Mr. Michaels, as representatives, could "okay" it; it was all right, and as far as they were concerned, that was it. We said we would have to take it back to the committee and get the committee's report on it.

So we flew back that Friday night and called everyone, and we had an emergency meeting Sunday morning, at which time the Manzanar Committee refused to accept the third paragraph, which had something about "man's inhumanity to man causing this kind of thing." They said that that was just such a cliché that they didn't want it in there. We hassled around again for awhile, and did it all by phone, made sure that we had the copies correct, and Mr. Michael said he would give it to Mr. William Penn Mott, Director of the State Parks and Recreation Department. This was the final wording as approved by the Manzanar Committee, the Advisory Committee, and the JACL.

Mr. Penn Mott was out of town for several days, and we didn't hear from him for a week. But on February 22 I got a phone call from Jim Murakami, who said, "Mr. Penn Mott turned down the wording. He refuses to accept `racism' and `greed.'" The word "hysteria" was the word the state wanted to use, so we sort of compromised on that. So in the final wording as you see it on the plaque, the first paragraph is the state's paragraph, the middle paragraph is our paragraph, and the third one is kind of a compromise.

Mr. Penn Mott said, "If they want the plaque, let them put their name on it, the state can't put their name on such a wording, it's just too much. There are lots of people who will object to it, and we just can't have it." Well, both Mr. Michael and Mrs. Kaiser were very upset because they thought it was all finished and over with and we could have our plaque by the time of the pilgrimage. We said to them, "We really don't care whether we have our plaque or not, we're going to go ahead with our pilgrimage; but if we're going to have a fight on our hands, we're going to continue this campaign." Jim Murakami then said to me, "I will go and confront Mr. Penn Mott in person with Frank Iwama and ask him what his real objections are."

Penn Mott said, "You have no documentation to prove that it was `racism' and `greed' that put these people in camps. I'm approving `concentration


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camp' on your wording, but I'm not going to approve the other two words."

Jim and Frank also had an appointment with Speaker of the Assembly Bob Moretti on the same afternoon. So they went to him to talk about the JACL problems that they had originally gotten the appointment for, and before they left they said that they wanted his help on solving the controversy with the wording. So Bob Moretti got in touch with Mr. Penn Mott and asked him to write a letter, which I haven't seen, but I have seen the answer that Mr. Moretti wrote to Penn Mott in which he says that he realizes that this is a very touchy subject but from the documentation in his office he would have to support the Manzanar Committee on their wording. Moretti went on to say that he would support us all the way through, and he hoped that Mr. Penn Mott could, in the very near future, hold a meeting with him and the Manzanar Committee people and try to resolve that.

I also called Assemblyman Alex Garcia, whose district covers Little Tokyo and Chinatown in Los Angeles. He has an aide who is a third-generation Japanese American named Dennis Nishikawa. Jim Murakami said, "Get in touch with Dennis and see what you can get from Garcia." Dennis called Garcia by phone in Sacramento and told him what the problem was, at which point Garcia said he would support us.

We also wrote letters to Al Song and March Fong, who are assembly-persons in Sacramento. We wrote to Senator Mervyn Dymally and a couple of other people in the legislature. We got Dymally's support, we got Moretti's support, we got Alex Garcia's support. Then Dennis Nishikawa arranged a meeting with Mr. Penn Mott for March 19, 1973.

Warren Furutani, Amy Ishii and myself flew up to Sacramento for the meeting. Ken Honji, who was in San Francisco publicizing our pilgrimage, drove up from San Francisco to Sacramento. He also tried to get people from San Francisco to represent the community. The only person who was able to come was Professor George Kagiwada of U.C. Davis, who came in behalf of the people from the Bay Area. Karl Yoneda and Edison Uno, who were both on the Manzanar Committee of San Francisco, were unable to come.

So we had this meeting, at which time the aides from all the different legislative offices that supported us came: Senator Dymally's aide, Bob Moretti's aide, et cetera. Assemblyman Garcia was the chairman, and Dennis Nishikawa was there also. Another person, Senator Ralph Dills from Gardena, sent his aide. Mr. Penn Mott was there from the State Parks and Recreation, John Michael was there, and a newly appointed deputy director of State Parks and Recreation named William Briner was also there. From the JACL Jim Murakami came with two staff people from the national office in San Francisco. I can't remember their names, but they were employed by the national office and they represented Dave Ushio from San Francisco.

The meeting lasted over an hour and a half. The JACL did all the documentation. They were quoting from newspapers and books and telling


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Mr. Penn Mott, "These are quotes which document racism, and this one documents greed." At one point one of the JACL people suggested that instead of "greed" we use the term "economic exploitation," which Mr. Penn Mott, for some reason, decided was fine. It was one extra word, and a longer word. The Manzanar Committee said, "Okay, we would accept that." About ten minutes of three, Mr. Penn Mott said that he had a meeting with some people who were coming from Washington, and it looked like we could not solve the controversy. Warren Furutani, who up to this point had not said a word, was sitting in his swivel chair and he turned around and said, "Mr. Penn Mott, you know, here are all these people who went to the camps telling you why we want the wording the way we want it, and you're sitting there and you're so insensitive, you're not even listening to us. In my terms, you are a racist, you are a bigot. The same kind of thing that happened in 1942 is happening right here in this room. One man signed the executive order that put a hundred and ten thousand people in camps, and you, representing the state of California, are sitting there and saying that the people who suffered are not going to put the words they want on that plaque." And Mr. Penn Mott said, "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you call me names." And he started to get up and walk away. At which point Assemblyman Garcia said, "If we don't settle it here the next stage is the legislature." Mr. Penn Mott's answer was, "It should never have gotten here in the first place. You can have it all." And he walked out. That was it. Mr. Michael and he really got the brunt of it from Mr. Penn Mott. I think he was on the verge of losing his job and he was really scared--and Mr. Briner came over to me--they had never answered the letters which I had written to them asking for verification of Mr. Penn Mott's refusal based on his objection to the two words; they never put it in writing, it was always over the telephone. They came over to me they said, "We don't need to answer your two letters, do we? It's settled here." And I said, "Fine with me." And Mr. Briner said, "Mr. Michael supported you, and he got a lot of flak from Mr. Penn Mott, so I hope that the Manzanar Committee at least is not angry at Mr. Michael." I said, "We're not angry, we realize that this is a very controversial kind of thing, but we wanted to stick to our point that this is the way we want it written and this is the way the community backed us and this is why we didn't want to back down." So he said, "We will order the plaque this afternoon."

This was March 19, and they had been telling us since October that if we didn't order the plaque, it wouldn't be ready by April 14, because it would take six to eight weeks. On March 19, in the afternoon, after we left that meeting, Mr. Michael wrote an order. He also sent out a press release in which he said that the plaque had been ordered and the wording had been approved. It took exactly two weeks and four days to make the plaque, and it was in Independence at the museum on April 10, and Mr. Raub accepted it for us. That was as much as the state would pay for; they would pay for the making of the plaque and the delivery of it to the closest point, and from there . . .


Hansen

Who is Mr. Raub?



163
Embrey

The Director of the Eastern California Museum in Independence. He had been working with us all along, so we asked him to accept the plaque since Independence was the closest town to Manzanar.


Hansen

Earlier you said that on the original application the Manzanar Committee, the JACL, and various Inyo County groups were included. Do you recall offhand who those various Inyo County groups were?


Embrey

One was the Lone Pine Chamber of Commerce. Another, I think, was the Eastern California Museum Association. The Los Angeles Department of Water and Power was also included, because they're the consenting owner of the land. There were a couple of others. I'm not exactly sure. But when we received a copy of the application, the only name that appeared was JACL. So we're going to have to try to find out what happened. I was hesitant to write to Sacramento because I didn't have enough information, but people were coming back from the museum and saying, "Mr. Raub is very upset because the Eastern California Museum name is not on the plaque, and he is sure that they were the ones who originated the application." Recently some other people have told us the same thing. Then I don't know what happened; I was cleaning out my files on the Manzanar pilgrimages and kind of sorting them out according to subject matter, and I came across the revised wording as we had sent it up to Sacramento originally, the maximum sixty words. And there listed under it were all the names of the different groups. We're going to have to write to Sacramento and find out what happened. Now I have the proof that they had been sent up and included in the application. We'll just have to trace it down because I know that probably people up in Independence and Lone Pine don't really approve of the wording either. It was all the work of the Manzanar Committee, really.


Hansen

What support was offered by the various Inyo County groups so that their names appeared on the application?


Embrey

Originally, Warren Furutani worked through the office of Eugene Chappie, who is the assemblyman from the Inyo County area--the Owens Valley area. We also had some support from Howard Way, the state senator from that area, but it was mostly through Chappie's office. Warren had several meetings with the aide from Chappie's office before we even sent the application.


Hansen

So they collected the names of . . .


Embrey

Of these different groups in Independence, right. So that's another thing we're going to have to find out about.


Hansen

Mrs. Embrey, I'd like to introduce David Bertagnoli, who is going to ask you a few questions with particular focus upon the plaque. David's been doing some research in the Independence and Lone Pine communities with some of the people who were living there at the time that Manzanar was operating as a camp. He's also been interviewing some people in the Owens Valley area with respect to their reactions to the plaque.



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Bertagnoli

I'd like to back up a little and talk about the origins of the Manzanar Committee? Did you have the plaque specifically in mind when you formed the committee?


Embrey

No, the first thing we decided upon was that the Manzanar Committee would be kind of an educational committee. People were calling us and asking us where they could get information on doing papers--where were the research materials on the college campuses--so we wanted to direct them to those source materials, and we also wanted to be able to direct them to people who had personal experiences in the camps. So we really had two purposes in forming the committee. One was educational, and it was sort of an afterthought to file a plaque application with the state.


Bertagnoli

Are you aware at all that the Inyo County Landmarks Committee had already gone ahead and inquired about a plaque, had actually made an application for a plaque, completely independent of the Japanese American groups?


Embrey

We are now aware of this fact, but we didn't find this out until after Manzanar was named a landmark.


Bertagnoli

Mr. Raub at the Eastern California Museum told me that when the Inyo County Landmarks Committee were applying to Sacramento for the plaque, they invited a group of Japanese Americans to Independence, to Manzanar, and that Warren Furutani was one of them. Do you know . . .


Embrey

I knew Warren met with them. I didn't know anybody else had gone with him.


Bertagnoli

Evidently it was quite a group. But was he representing the Manzanar Committee or the JACL at the time? Do you know that?


Embrey

Probably at that point he was just representing JACL, because I don't think the Manzanar Committee had been formed yet. Maybe it was still in the process of forming.


Bertagnoli

This was around 1970.


Embrey

It was around 1970, yes. I think that Warren himself was working on trying to set up a committee, but I don't think that we had actually formed one. He was still working as the National Youth Coordinator of the JACL, so it was through Warren . . . We were not aware that they had sent a separate application.


Bertagnoli

I see. I think you've answered most of the rest of my questions. But one thing I'd just like to ask you is: Why do you think "concentration camp" on the plaque created such public interest? Why do you think people like Lillian Baker were against this term "concentration camp"?


Embrey

Well, Mrs. Baker's argument is that America never had any concentration


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camps, that it was Germany that had them, because concentration camps bring up a picture of death chambers, you know, the ovens, and that they really didn't have anything like that in any of the ten camps--that we had a hospital, three meals a day, and that we were taken care of. We at least had lodging, we could work if we wanted to, and we were paid when we worked. She believes this to be very humane treatment of people, so that it cannot be compared with concentration camps in Germany. The Manzanar Committee has never compared the two. We looked up the term "concentration camp," and it's in Webster's Dictionary; we looked up the term "relocation center," and it's not. We decided that the definition for "concentration camp" according to Webster's Dictionary was a fairly accurate description of Manzanar and the other camps.

Another argument I have heard is that "relocation center" implies that you are able to go in and out freely, of your own free will, and that these centers are set up in cases of emergency, like a flood or an earthquake, and that it's a temporary kind of shelter until you're able to go on to other things. A concentration camp like Manzanar, Tule Lake and the other camps had barbed wire around them. People were not allowed to leave, unless they had permits. There were sentries in the guard towers, and there were searchlights, and the rifles the guards carried had bullets in them. We felt that this in itself connoted "concentration camps."

Someone else said that we should have used the term "internment camp" rather than "concentration camp." I don't know what their argument is. "Internment camp" was used in every one of the episodes in Indian history where they've taken the American Indians and put them on reservations. The orders that came were "internment" orders. One of our Manzanar Committee members, Ron Rundstrom, who is working on his doctoral dissertation, said that there is quite a parallel in the things that the government did to the Indians. Also, almost all of the administrators who took care of the ten camps, so-called relocation centers, came from the Bureau of Indian Affairs, because they were the only ones who knew how to run the camps, who knew how to organize people into different work groups and run the administration matters. So most of them came from the Department of the Interior and the Bureau of Indian Affairs.


Hansen

Mrs. Embrey, I want to explore further the response to the plaque itself. You've already alluded to Lillian Baker. Perhaps you could identify this person and tell us a little bit about the nature of her response.


Embrey

All right. Mrs. Baker is a woman who lives in Gardena--she says of her own choice--among Japanese Americans there. [Outside of Honolulu, Gardena has the largest population of Japanese Americans among United States cities.] She has been a writer for some years for the Gardena Valley News, which is, I believe, a throwaway paper I'm not sure. At the time of the Executive Order 9066 exhibit in Pasadena, she wrote a letter of protest and said that if we were going to show photographs of the camps in America, then we should


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put them right alongside photographs of the Japanese prison camps in the Philippines where her first husband died, and pictures of Buchenwald and Auschwitz in Germany. No one paid much attention to her. The Gardena Valley News printed the letter. They got a lot of replies, and they printed the replies. Then nothing happened until "Months of Waiting," which is an exhibit of drawings and paintings done in camp, came to the music center in Los Angeles. Mrs. Baker also protested this exhibit with the same argument as before: that we should put pictures of the Japanese prison camps in the Philippines for American prisoners of war and the German camps, and give them equal space. Because as far as she was concerned, the camps in America were relocation centers and not concentration camps. This was before she was aware of the fight that we were having with the state; she didn't know that we had applied to the state.

One afternoon when Amy Ishii and Ken Honji and some other people had volunteered to stay at the exhibit and talk to people, answer any questions, Mrs. Baker came to the exhibit. This was evidently her second appearance. She had been invited and attended the preview night that we had, at which time she had made no protest. Eugene Debs of the Los Angeles Board of Supervisors, City Councilman Thomas Bradley's supporters, and a lot of other people who supported the exhibit were there, and Mrs. Baker made no protest. The second time she came she bought a copy of Executive Order 9066 from Amy, wrote out a check to her and started screaming at her, shaking her finger at her, saying, "You people are causing all this trouble by publicizing this kind of stuff." And she said, "You're to blame for it. We Americans didn't have any concentration camps." Amy didn't really know who she was. Then she looked at the check and said, "Are you the woman `Elbee' who writes for the Gardena Valley News? " And Mrs. Baker replied, "Yes. I've been opposing all of this for a long time." They got into a loud and spirited argument, and a lot of people gathered around to listen. At which time Ken Honji came up the stairs and heard all the screaming and joined in with Amy. Mrs. Baker was on her way to one of the music halls across the way from the music center--she had an afternoon matinee ticket for something--and had stopped at "Months of Waiting" and gotten into this big argument. So anyway, while Amy and Mrs. Baker were screaming at each other, Ken Honji came up the stairs and joined in with Amy, and finally was able to escort her down the long flight of stairs out to the lobby. Mrs. Baker never stopped screaming; she kept screaming the same things that she'd been saying before, and that was that America had no concentration camps, they were relocation centers, humane places where people were treated well, and that we were doing a disservice to the country by bringing up these unpleasant experiences.

At five o'clock that night Amy called me. I wasn't home, and she said to my husband, "Sue missed Mrs. Baker." I had just left the music center before Mrs. Baker arrived on the scene. My husband's answer was: "It's a good thing she did, because I would have had to bail her out of jail if she had had a run-in with Mrs. Baker." Amy


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said that her husband had told her: "It's a good thing you sat there behind that desk, because if you had gotten up you would have really given her a big sock and then you would have been in jail." So both of our husbands had the same reaction to that experience.

Once Mrs. Baker spoke at a Pacific Southwest District meeting of the JACL in Orange County. She took over the microphone for quite awhile. She had been invited by the governor, Helen Kawagoe, to speak. All during this time, these nice middle-class Nisei booed and yelled "lies" to the speaker. I understand that the governor called Mrs. Baker on the phone the next day and apologized for the "lack of decorum" on the part of the Nisei who were at the meeting. I called the governor and told her that she was being used by Mrs. Baker and she should not talk to her or encourage her in any way. I asked her if she really supported our stand and she said she did. Immediately afterwards, Mrs. Baker complained that she had been denied the right to speak at a public meeting and that she had been booed down, but that an apology was more than welcome and if the invitation was still open, she would join the JACL. I heard that that invitation has been out for several years but that it had never been picked up by Mrs. Baker. At this point, she says that her publisher will not let her print anything in the Gardena Valley News about the camps.


Hansen

Has she been reacting to the plaque, too?


Embrey

Yes, very much so. She has written letters to Governor Reagan and to all the legislators. She has been on both Ray Briem and Marv Gray's radio talk shows on KABC. And just before Marv Gray died she was on his show on KFI, I think, because his contract was not renewed by KABC. I have not seen her on television yet, but the Los Angeles Herald Examiner called me one day and said that they had gone out to interview her--she had made some very strong accusations against the Manzanar Committee--and the reporter felt that at least the Manzanar Committee's side should be presented. I talked to the reporter on the phone, and a couple of days later I asked her to read what she had written. It sounded pretty good; it sounded like we were given fairly equal space, but the article that came out was quite different. The city editor evidently has the final say on what goes in the paper. I was kind of disturbed, but most people said that they thought I came out better in my interview than Mrs. Baker did in hers. Her complaint was that of all the pictures they had taken of her in her home, they used the worst one in the Herald Examiner. So she, I think, is a kind of complaining person anyway.


Hansen

Is she just the most vocal of those people that have objected to the plaque? Or does she speak for a large segment of the population of Los Angeles?


Embrey

Well, she claims now that she has formed a committee, Americans for


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Historical Accuracy, and that she is the chairperson. How many are in her committee, I don't know, but a young man came to interview me last week, at which time I suggested to him that he ask her how many members she has on her committee, because the Manzanar Committee is willing to let her see the names of the persons on their committee. And I told him we had a core of twelve people. So I said, "Ask her, please, whether she would be willing to give you the information; I don't know."


Hansen

Has KABC interviewed either yourself or Amy Ishii or anyone else from the Manzanar Committee?


Embrey

No. They offered us air time, and we said we did not want time on Ray Briem's show. We want time for a separate response, so they haven't asked us back at all.


Hansen

Are you getting any correspondence from people in the larger community reacting to the plaque?


Embrey

Just what we see in the papers. Yesterday there was a reaction in the Rafu Shimpo in which a non-Asian, I think his name was Blackwell, wrote a letter supporting the term "concentration camp."


Hansen

But you haven't received any personal correspondence?


Embrey

None at all. Nothing. In fact, with all the publicity we've gotten, none of us have received any kind of negative reaction, except from Mrs. Baker.


Hansen

Don't you receive any informal criticism from radicals to the effect that the language on the plaque isn't strong enough? Or that by working through the state the Manzanar Committee has in any way compromised its position?


Embrey

Well, the only thing is that a lot of people couldn't understand why we were working through the legislators. We explained to them that we had reached the point where there was no way of getting any kind of agreement on the plaque, so this is why we went to the legislators, why this was the next step that we took. Most people that I've talked to didn't like the word "hysteria" on there. That was the word that the state clung to and insisted on. People who object say that it was not really "hysteria" but "racism" and "exploitation" that were the true reasons for the evacuation. When we explain how the wording came about, I think people are willing to accept it. Some people in San Francisco described the wording on the plaque as "unbelievably accurate and honest."

Mrs. Baker argues that the plaque should have said that we had hospitals, good medical care, good food and humane treatment--well, you just can't do it on a plaque. The Manzanar Committee itself has made a decision not to be on the defensive with Mrs. Baker. We refuse to argue with her, we refuse to correspond with her. She has never actually confronted


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us as a committee. There are notices in the paper saying where our meetings are held, and she has never come to them. She has never talked to me personally, but she has accused us of being radicals and militants. She has accused us of threatening her life, calling her on the telephone. We haven't done that. Nobody in our committee has time for that kind of activity. We decided that rather than put ourselves on the defensive and constantly have to answer her charges, which are false anyway, that we would try to always present a positive kind of picture to the community.


Hansen

Where does the Manzanar Committee go from here? You've gotten the plaque, and you were sort of plaque-oriented for the past year. Do you revert back to your original status as an educational committee, or do you now have a larger range of activities over and beyond education?


Embrey

Well, we'll be doing our educational part; like last night we spoke in Tak Shindo's series on the evacuation for Venice Adult School; you know, we brought people up to date as to what happened. Right now there's a feasibility study that the legislature has recommended to the State Parks and Recreation; $150,000 has been allocated to several different studies considering sites to be incorporated into the Parks and Recreation system, one of them being Manzanar. It was given $20,000. So we're in touch with the man who is doing the study, a Mr. Kenneth Collier. Collier is the state landscape architect, who says he was a very young boy in grammar school when the evacuation happened, and he really doesn't know anything about it. I don't think he's done any homework either; he hasn't read any relevant books. He didn't even seem to have the files on the Manzanar application, because he called me the other day and asked me if we had any photographs of existing conditions at the camp. And I said, "They're in the application form. We have many pages of photographs that the state requested, and you should have them." But he did come down to Los Angeles for a meeting with the Manzanar Committee. He said he wasn't sure what to expect from the committee, because he had been told that we were radicals. He sat there and listened, and told us what he had done so far. And he called me last week to tell me that he would like to have another meeting with us. And when he writes us his draft, he would like us to see it before he turns it in. He has some aerial photographs he took which he offered to give us. We may possibly have to meet with him before that, because at this point he says he only has $10,000; he doesn't know where the other $10,000 is. We asked him about getting money for consultants, who could help him and give him ideas of what we could do with the camp, and he said, "The money is not for consultant fees, but for expenses and salaries." Well, he's already on the state's payroll. If nobody else is helping him, who is getting the $10,000? Besides his flying to Manzanar and back, or staying overnight, and paying for photographs that he's taken or that he's ordered from the National Archives, where is the money going? So I have put in a call to Bob Moretti's office to find out how extensive the assembly resolution was that covered Manzanar. We were even thinking of the possibility of asking that the other $10,000


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be frozen until we can get an agreement on consultants' fees, because the Manzanar Committee had already spent about six hours with Collier, and we haven't gotten paid ourselves. We feel that if we're going to provide input into the state, if we're going to recommend people doing blueprints and giving ideas to the state, that these people should be paid. And if we're going to furnish Collier with photographs that we've taken, then we should be paid for those. We'll probably talk about that at our meetings, and then decide what to do.


Hansen

I noticed at the 1973 pilgrimage--at the dedication ceremony--that there were several speakers from Chicago, New York, and San Francisco, all claiming to represent chapters of the Manzanar Committee. Are those just paper organizations, or do they have some viability in terms of membership?


Embrey

Okay. At the time we started having this debate with the state about the wording, which was sometime in December, I called Edison Uno and Karl and Elaine Yoneda, and asked them to be the Manzanar Committee of San Francisco. To which they said, "Okay." Then Warren wrote to New York and asked a group there, which is quite active, called Asian Americans for Action, if they would form a Manzanar Committee out of that group and support us on our wording. Rex Takahashi, who had been on our original committee, was living in Chicago, and I wrote to him and asked him if his Asian American studies group could get some support for the Manzanar Committee and call themselves the Chicago Manzanar Committee. So he was able to do that. As the pilgrimage approached we wrote to them and asked them, if possible, to send a representative to the pilgrimage to represent their chapters. As of now these chapters are not doing very much, but we keep in touch with them and we do send them reports as to what is going on. If we have a fight again, like on this feasibility study, then we will ask them to help us.


Hansen

A couple of final questions. I know you tried to involve some of the former Manzanar internees in the ceremonies during the 1973 pilgrimage, in particular in the placement of the plaque. Could you relate that incident?


Embrey

Mr. R. F. Kado is eighty-two years old, and he contacted the Manzanar Committee when the copy of my booklet The Lost Years went on sale in Little Tokyo. He went to the Amerasia Bookstore and asked for a copy and said that he wanted to make a contribution to the Manzanar Committee. So the young fellow that was there started talking to him and found out that Mr. Kado had built the monument at the cemetery and had built the two houses that were at the entrance of the camp. So he got his name and address and phone number and said that the man had left a check for $100. I said, "Gee, he's a man we should get ahold of, because if we get the plaque, we're going to need someone to put it in and get some kind of advice." I called Mr. Kado and asked him to come to one of our meetings. He came to several meetings, talked with us and told us of his experiences. He was very reluctant to comment on our wording, but it later turned out that he felt that even though


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we had lost all of this property and been interned, that America had been good to him, although he was not a citizen. And that if at all possible, he wanted to avoid a confrontation with the state over the wording. He said, "At least we got the landmark; we're going to preserve that. Do we need to fight the state? Could we sort of compromise and get the wording so that the plaque will be there?" And we said to him, "That's something that we could work on, but wouldn't it be better if we at least made an effort to try to get what we want on it?" And he said, "Yes, it would be better." He agreed with us, but he said that from his point of view, although he'd lost something like $40,000, a brand new house, at the time of evacuation, that he has been able to rehabilitate a lot of that, and that as a stonemason he was still making good money, and he just didn't want that kind of confrontation.

Mr. Kado was ill at the time that the plaque was approved. I called him to tell him that they were ordering it and sending it to Independence and asked him if he knew someone who was a stonemason to put the plaque in place, because the state was paying only for transportation and the rest was up to us. And I said, "We would like your advice on where to put it, since you built the stone houses." He said to me, "I have to go to the doctor tomorrow, and I will explain to him what you said, and maybe the doctor will give me permission to do it myself." I said, "Well, I hate to impose on you, because you've been ill." And his answer was, "I would like to finish it. I started it and I would like to finish it."

What happened was that he went to the doctor, and the doctor okayed him to go back to work. He called me and said, "If you will give me the permission, I would like to get ahold of the young men who helped me build the stone houses originally, when they were sixteen years old, and have them go up with me to Manzanar, with the blueprint, and figure out a place to put the plaque." And this is what he did. He spent two weekends up there with five or six people who had helped him originally--who are now grown men. They asked to be anonymous because they said they were just finishing a job they started. They didn't want to get any credit for it. They would not let us pay them for gas, or any of their expenses. Mr. Kado put the plaque in after they had collected all the rocks. He paid for the cement and everything else, and brought all his own tools. He was still there at three-thirty that afternoon of the pilgrimage, when I was ready to leave. And I said to him, "It's time for you to go home." And his answer was, "I want to make sure it stays in place."


Hansen

Who were the main speakers at the dedication ceremony?


Embrey

We had Diane Kawano, from the Manzanar Committee of Chicago, who flew in. Her parents had been in Manzanar. We had Mary Kochiyama, who is a Nisei, and who is a paid representative of the Asian Americans for Action. She flew out from New York and was one of the speakers. Edison Uno was not able to come from San Francisco, so we asked Pat Sumi to speak in his place. That was sort of a last minute thing. Karl Yoneda was there and did some of the translating in Japanese.



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Hansen

What continuing function do you find the plaque playing with respect to community involvement, not only in the Japanese American community but also in the larger American community? And what impact has your involvement in the Manzanar Committee--and the politics of "plaque creation"--had upon yourself?


Embrey

Okay. The first question. There is still a lot of interest, and, as far as the Japanese community is concerned, Manzanar is now legitimate. When we first started our committee, we had very little support. We got, from one person, who is a Nisei: "Why are you bringing up the past? Most of my friends say that they never got to UCLA, but their kids are able to go. They own a house, they have a car, they've made a good living. Why are you bringing up the past?" They don't want to talk about it anymore. This was the reaction we had from most of the Nisei generation. In fact, at the heat of the controversy over the plaque, my mother said to me, "You better stop. You're going to get beaten up like those people got beaten up in camp. They'll come and find you. You know, your name has been in the papers." And I said, "Well, there are a few people who might do something like that, but there's nothing I can do about it." Evidently they'd been translating all of the news reports and Mrs. Baker's letters into the Japanese sections of the Rafu Shimpo and Kashu Mainichi, and my mother had been reading them. She was quite upset that one time when I saw her.

Does that answer your question?


Hansen

With respect to the Japanese American community. What about the larger community?


Embrey

I think a lot of interest has been generated. For instance, KNX Radio has had several editorials recently. Because of the high winds at the last pilgrimage, a lot of the newsmen were not able to fly into Manzanar to cover it, so we got very little coverage in April, and KNX Radio did not know that the plaque was there and had been dedicated. They got a reply from Mrs. Baker, and they gave her air time. They got a reply from Mayor Tom Bradley, who gave them a rundown on the history of what happened; he told them that the plaque is there, that the Manzanar Committee has an unlimited lease on the land, and that the city council had unanimously passed a resolution on the day of the pilgrimage commending the Manzanar Committee for its work.

I think the fact that we have non-Asians on our committee who have been working with us from the beginning is an indication of some kind of interest. I think most of the interest, though, is in the community. Although recently some of the younger kids have said to me that they thought that all the things that could possibly be said about the evacuation have already been said, I reply, "Well, I don't think so. Not until the Nisei start talking. There have been a lot of books written--sociological studies done and political things written--but I don't think the whole story has come out." At one point in one of my speeches I had said that the evacuation had had


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such a traumatizing psychological effect on the Nisei that none of this would really come out, and that the Nisei themselves would never be able to lead a normal life until they got it out of their system. That the anger, the bitterness, and the resentment were all inside of them, and that I thought that it would be healthy for them if they got it out. Some people have objected to my theory. I wrote to the Houstons [James D. and Jeanne Wakatsuki], when they sent me their book, Farewell to Manzanar . . . Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston sent along with it an interview that they had done, at which time she says that every time she would start talking about Manzanar she would break out into tears. So her husband said, "Let's find out what the rest of your family thinks," and they took the tape recorder and went over to her sister's house, her eldest sister, who remembers much more of Manzanar than Jeanne does. And James said to her, "You know, every time Jeanne starts talking about Manzanar she bursts into tears and she starts crying." And her sister said, "What's there to cry about?" They said, "Are you willing to be taped?" And she answered, "Sure, go ahead." And they put the tape recorder on and said, "Okay, tell us what it felt like that first day you got to Manzanar." And she started talking about the duststorms, started talking about putting the hay into the mattress tick, and she burst into tears. And Jeanne said that after her sister got over that, she said, "What a relief!" It was such a relief. And then she was able to talk for hours and hours on the tape about her experience. Jeanne said it happened to everyone in her family; her brothers, who are still alive; her sisters; and her sisters-in-law. She said that the book is a result of her twenty-five year old nephew coming to her and saying, "I was born in Manzanar and I know nothing about it. Will you please tell me?" And she said, "Why didn't you talk to your parents?" And he replied, "They won't talk about it." And she said, "I looked at him and I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I decided that it was time." It was kind of a catharsis for her family. So when she sent me the book, this is what I wrote. I said to her, "I think for everyone it has to be some kind of catharsis, or the community is not really going to function properly psychologically. They're not active in politics, they're not active in anything, really, of any importance."

I think for the larger community, too, in terms of what's been happening with Watergate and with President Nixon, it was an executive order that sent the people to camp, not a law on the books. And if someone as president wanted to he could just reactivate the order. I understand that executive orders are never cancelled; they stay on the books. They may not be used again, but they're always there. They're not like laws that are adopted and then cancelled out.

I think more and more young people are getting interested in the whole subject of internment, in terms of constitutional law and in light of Vice-President Agnew's constant crusades against the newsmen. I said to one newsreporter, "You know, the next people could be the newsmen." And for awhile there were two cases where two newsmen went to jail because they refused to reveal the sources of their information. So I


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think when it's connected in that sense, people will see the importance of knowing about this kind of thing so that it doesn't happen again.


Hansen

You said it's been, or it is increasingly becoming, a form of catharsis for the Nisei generation to talk about their evacuation experiences. Has your involvement in the struggles of the past few years been cathartic for you? If you perhaps disavow the label "radical," has your entire participation since 1969 in the Manzanar Committee and related activities succeeded in "radicalizing" you somewhat?


Embrey

I think so. In the fifties and early sixties I had somehow left the Japanese community to work on my own in other areas. I worked with the credit union movement in the food co-ops, and I was often the only Japanese in these groups. My husband and I became members of the Unitarian Church, and we were members for a couple of years, and most of the people that I met were non-Japanese or non-Asian. Most of the activities were centered around issues like the Pentagon Papers and the Vietnam War, although we were active in precinct work and things like that, and some support groups. My husband's always been a union man, so I've been aware of things like that. I guess I've come out much more strongly since I've been working with the Manzanar Committee. I've reached the point where I don't even care what anybody calls me, and I feel that it's now become part of my life. I was asked to speak at an antiwar rally as representative of a group that called themselves Asian Americans for Peace. I had never done anything with the group, really, except maybe go to their meetings or fund raisings, and made some donations to them. George Takei [the actor and unsuccessful candidate for a seat on the Los Angeles City Council] insisted that I was the only one that could do it because I had worked on the Manzanar Committee, and he felt that I could articulate myself in terms of relating what was happening in Vietnam with what had happened at Manzanar. So I spoke for just a few minutes at that rally, which was held in Los Angeles. Then I've been on the Education Commission. It's gotten to the point now where when people say "Sue Embrey," they automatically say the "Manzanar Committee." One person said, "Yes, the infamous one!" I guess it has radicalized me more in terms of what I say, although some people say I still say things so that it doesn't come out as strong, because I don't use profanity, I don't use the terminology that the young people use. And sometimes I become very academic when I say something, like at the 1972 pilgrimage. Karl Yoneda and I were the two speakers. My husband read the speech before I took it up to Manzanar and he said, "Well, it's pretty good, but I just wonder if any of the young people will really get it. It's kind of really intellectual." I found out later; Warren Furutani said to me, "Boy, you really blew their minds!" And I said, "With what?" And he answered, "Your speech." What I had said was that whether Manzanar becomes a landmark or not, it was a symbol. It symbolized the ultimate negation of American democracy, and that was the racism that's been in the United States. And that even today, while we were there at the pilgrimage, it was going on in Vietnam, with the strategic hamlets and Asians killing Asians, because there were Asian Americans being drafted into the service to fight in Vietnam. And that the people who spend the


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day there at Manzanar should keep it in their minds that it could happen to someone else, and that I hoped that they would be in the very forefront of defending people so that it doesn't happen to them. Karl Yoneda spoke about Hiroshima, the Indian reservations, the ghettos, and how man's inhumanity to man is still going on. Then he spoke a few words in Japanese to the Issei there. Warren said that the young people really related to those two speeches more than they had to anything else.

In terms of my personal life, I can tell you that my family is fed up with Manzanar! We're eating dinner, the phone rings, and I'm on. We're asleep and the phone rings late at night. And they're coming, like calls from all over. Now I'm getting a lot of calls from Sacramento, because I've written to them already about the feasibility study, and all these different people keep calling me about one thing or another. For my family, I guess, the pilgrimages haven't been that exciting, because I'm working all the time I'm up there, and they're trying to find something to do to keep themselves occupied. At the December 1969 pilgrimage my husband helped paint the monument and cleaned up the cemetery area. He thought that it was a very good way of at least letting the young people know what happened.

I remember at one point I thought it had all been a cathartic experience and I was over many of the remnants of the evacuation. But during the trial of the soldiers who were involved in My Lai, in the massacre, I think it was like the fourth or fifth day of the trial, one fellow said, "Well, I was just following orders." One of the questions was, "Didn't you realize these people were human beings? And that you were shooting helpless people in the village?" And he said that he was just following orders. Then there was a letter to the editor from a woman in Iowa, I think, saying, "Oh well, that area is overpopulated anyway, so what's a few more people, a few hundred bodies?" I just blew up; it just came out without any thinking on my part. I said to my husband, "Damn it! We were lucky we got out of Manzanar!" Just like that; then it was all over. And he said, "Gee, I didn't really think you felt that deeply about it." And I said, "Well, I hadn't really thought about it." Just because of what they were saying on the radio and in reporting what was happening at the trial . . . and it just made the connection to me, and I just said what I thought. I know when I was telling Warren Furutani about it, he said, "That must have really been something for you to say that after all these years, because to me you're the one person who had sort of made your peace with the past. You're able to talk about it more in a historical way than in a personal way."


Hansen

One final question. You mentioned the book by the Houstons called Farewell to Manzanar. You've no doubt done some thinking on this, but what exactly does it mean to say, "Farewell to Manzanar"?


Embrey

I'm not sure, really, except that you can talk about what happened to yourself and you can talk about what happened to others, such


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people as Asian immigrants. After the 1969 pilgrimage, I sort of retreated into the past, because the pilgrimage had such a traumatic effect on me. I didn't realize it. I was going up there for a day, and I thought it would be adventurous--I hadn't been back to Manzanar since I left. But for about a month I would wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares. I would say to my husband, "I couldn't sleep last night." And he would reply, "You were thinking about Manzanar." And I would then say, "I guess it must be that, because I can't think of anything else that would bother me. So I started to read history, Asian American history, Japanese history, and I began to see that the internment was not just an isolated case. We blow it up so that it seems that it's the only thing that has happened to the Japanese in America. As I read over what had happened to Asians before the evacuation, I began to realize that laws had been enacted against the Chinese, and that laws had been enacted against the Japanese keeping them from doing business in certain areas, like fishing and buying land. And I realized that the evacuation was only part of what had been happening to the Asian immigrant. So I could put it in better perspective, not blow it out of shape, see it as part of a continuum. I think that the most important thing about saying, "Farewell to Manzanar" is facing the fact that there is racism in America. The word "racism," more than any other description, was what most Nisei didn't want to put on the plaque. I think once people realize that there are these things done to people and that it is due to racism, then I think they can go forward. A lot of people will say, "Oh, I've never faced that kind of prejudice. I've never been refused service. I've never been refused an apartment . . ." But there are cases where discrimination has taken place, and the answer from some people is, "Well, there are exceptions." They don't want to confront racism. Once you've faced it and know it's there, possibly find ways and tools to cope with it, then you can let go of the past and say, "Farewell."


Hansen

Mrs. Embrey, on behalf of David Hacker, David Bertagnoli, and the entire Japanese American Oral History Project at California State University, Fullerton, I would like to thank you for your time, cooperation, and candor.



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Index

An Interview with
Yoriyuki Kikuchi
Conducted by Arthur A. Hansen
on July 29, 1974
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Japanese American Evacuation
O.H. 1340

©1977
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


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Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     Yoriyuki Kikuchi
  • Interviewer:
  •     Arthur A. Hansen
  • Subject:
  •     Japanese American Evacuation
  • Date:
  •     July 29, 1974
Hansen

This is an interview with Dr. Yoriyuki Kikuchi by Arthur A. Hansen for the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Oral History Project at 422 South Boyle Avenue, Los Angeles, California, on July 29, 1974, at 1:00 p.m.

Well, Dr. Kikuchi, do you want to start off the interview today by giving me some background information on yourself: the date of your birth, where you were born, and when you came to the United States?


Kikuchi

I was born on August 1, 1886, in a remote country of Japan, a mountainous part of the country in Hyogo-Ken near Kyoto. When I was raised in the family, my father had a little timber forest, rice field, and he always had about sixty or seventy cows; besides that, he had a water mill producing wheat flour and processing rice and so on. He also had a merchandising store. Consequently, I was raised under pretty comfortable circumstances.


Hansen

How many children were in your family?


Kikuchi

I had two younger brothers and four sisters in my family. But in the house we had two maids and three servants. So we were pretty comfortable.


Hansen

Are you from a samauri family?


Kikuchi

Well, my ancestors were, definitely. They were from the ancient Kikuchi family of Kumamoto-Ken prefecture.


Hansen

But there was still some economic affluence in your family though, since you did have maids and you did have, as you pointed out, a pretty comfortable existence.


Kikuchi

Yes. Yes, I can't deny that. We didn't know how to work either.



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Hansen

Were you educated in Japan?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

Did you get your dental training there initially?


Kikuchi

No, I received my dental training at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. I went to middle school in Japan--that corresponds to high school here. My father had started a raw silk factory, and that requires so much capital. The products were usually exported to America. The times were bad, and raw silk price went down so low that in three, four years time, the debts accumulated to quite a bit. And I, being the oldest of the brothers, felt so responsible for my father's welfare. Father had gotten quite ill and he couldn't work at all. All the responsibility rested upon myself. So at the age of sixteen, I took over his duties. I went to the country bank and asked, "Could you loan me money?" "Money?" he said "Yes, I can if you can put up collateral." In my youthful ignorance I did not know that everything had already been mortgaged. One time I thought I'd go out to Osaka or Tokyo and apprentice somewhere and learn a trade, but it didn't work. Finally, the only way out was to go to America and make money.


Hansen

After you left for America, who took over your property?


Kikuchi

My father got pretty well now, so he could manage somehow.


Hansen

Oh, I understand.


Kikuchi

My father hated for me to go out because he depended on me. My mother encouraged me to go to America. So my father sold a couple of cows, which was enough to buy the tickets.


Hansen

Was it enough? About how much was your passage?


Kikuchi

If I remember correctly, steerage fare cost me seventy-five yen and I had to have forty dollars in cash at the entry port. With the few dollars I had saved, it was enough to buy a ticket to America. I worked at the city hall for one year after graduation from middle school. After I saved a few dollars and my father sold two cows, it was enough.


Hansen

What year did you go to America?


Kikuchi

Oh, that was 1905. I arrived in San Francisco on December 5, 1905.


Hansen

Now this was during the Russo-Japanese War; how did you avoid serving in the Japanese army at that time? Weren't you supposed to be drafted into the army?


Kikuchi

Yes, just about that time.


Hansen

Did you come to America in part to avoid the draft?



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Kikuchi

Yes, that is true. I was nineteen then. If I stayed in Japan I would surely have been drafted. And if I were drafted, I could never pay my father's debts. So, I came over to America. I wanted to enter Stanford University and learn electrical engineering. I had introductions to a few friends. However, on the boat I made a friend, who came to southern California. He persuaded me to go to Riverside to pick oranges. That was the first job I had.


Hansen

Were you part of the hired labor crew or did you get hired as an individual? Were you part of a work gang?


Kikuchi

I got hired alone.


Hansen

You got hired alone and just worked with the gang.


Kikuchi

Yes. No contract; I joined there.


Hansen

Okay, you joined alone, and were not part of the labor contract gang.


Kikuchi

Because my friends went there, I joined them. And so there's no contract or anything. I worked there, four months--well, December to June or July, or somewhere around there. I worked ten hours for one dollar. I earned $25 a month roughly, and kept $5 and sent $20 to Japan to pay debts. Anyway, I thought it was helpful.


Hansen

Was it your intention to return to Japan when you first came here? Were you planning on going back to Japan?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

Were you coming here to stay?


Kikuchi

No, not at first. I came on a student visa.


Hansen

No, what I mean is that many Issei originally planned when they came here to just work for a few years and/or go to school and then go back to Japan. Did you plan on going back?


Kikuchi

Yes, eventually. My purpose was to come here and go to school, make money and become a good man. Mighty greedy intentions, but that's what I wanted. I prayed to God earnestly on departure from Japan. I went on top of a high mountain, I prayed hard. That was the first prayer I gave to God. I wasn't a Christian, I wasn't a Buddhist, I wasn't anything. "God, make me a man." That was the first request. "And give me education; and if I can, maybe make money." That was all.


Hansen

How was it, Dr. Kikuchi, that you weren't affiliated with a religion? How was it that you were neither Buddhist nor Christian?


Kikuchi

Well, in Japan they're not so particular with religion, just the same as it is now. It's a custom, you know. They don't take it so seriously. I didn't either, until I came to America. They recognize God but so slightly and selfishly. They really don't think deeply or


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seriously. They go to a shrine or Buddhist temple. I don't know what they're praying for. When I pray, it's a serious thing--life or death. And so I came here to try to make money. And sending only twenty dollars per month back to Japan wasn't enough. That wasn't the answer to my situation. One time I worked in a farmer's house in San Bernardino County--I won't mention his name--for two months and he didn't pay me one cent.


Hansen

Was that right at the beginning? When you first came here?


Kikuchi

First, I worked at a ranch picking oranges, then I went to the farmer's house. In the morning I put the horses in the field, fed the chickens and did all my morning chores and was given a little bit of cereal for breakfast, and, oh, I was hungry! (laughter) It was two months and I didn't get paid. So I thought this won't do--just because I can't speak English. The country is not the place for me to work, I must go to Los Angeles to study a little more English. So I came to Los Angeles. The first place I stayed was at a Methodist mission, near Ninth and Figueroa.


Hansen

Was Little Tokyo in Los Angeles then?


Kikuchi

There wasn't anything much to speak of at that time, in 1906. I worked in a family for a change. First job was work on the table as a houseboy, put on a white apron and serve as a waiter, you know. I never did serve other people before. You understand why. Tears came down incessantly, I couldn't serve at all, the cook did the job the first time because I couldn't stand it. In Japan I was never raised that way; I was always served and not the servant.


Hansen

All of a sudden you became the servant, right?


Kikuchi

Yes. Well, the next day I felt all right. I did all kinds of servant work. After the cook was gone, I had to cook. Employers always take advantage, you know. I had to cook everything, and I gladly did it. Then the gardener was gone. I did gardening, cooking, housework, everything. I did it all diligently. Anyway, I thought about it: this is not the answer, not my purpose. At that time it was the Teddy Roosevelt administration, and the international situation was so acute that war may happen almost any time. I got to go back to Japan then, I thought, but I can't go back empty-handed, I got to have something. At least a diploma of some kind. So finally, the answer came: go to business college; for instance, Woodbury Business College.


Hansen

In Los Angeles?


Kikuchi

Yes, and there I worked so hard.


Hansen

Who paid your college fees for you?


Kikuchi

I did. I didn't have any money, no brother here, no father or no


197
friend--I'm all alone. So for tuition I saved by doing housework. One time I found a pound of rice and divided it up to last one week. (laughter) So hungry, but somehow I studied hard and over at Woodbury the more you work, the faster you graduate. So I took home all the business transaction lessons and everything and worked all night long. I made progress two or three times faster than the other fellows and I got out of the school pretty fast.


Hansen

So you finished in a hurry?


Kikuchi

In a hurry, I had to. I'm hungry, very hungry. And I worked at the post office a little while and at all kinds of stores just for mere existence.


Hansen

Were most of the stores Japanese?


Kikuchi

At that time in Japanese town there were a few stores--Asia Company and a store here and there. One time I worked in a tailor shop, mostly bookkeeping . . . same time as a salesman. One day, somebody came from San Diego--there were two stores in San Diego and he represented the two stores--and he asked me to hire somebody to incorporate the two stores. So I advised this way and that way and recommended one fellow who was in Woodbury College and told him to go and talk to him. He said, "No, not him." He asked me to come right away. And that night I took a train to San Diego to take that job. Before going to San Diego I went to the vice-president of the business college. I asked him, "What shall I do? I didn't take the subject on incorporation, I got to do something." So he told me to buy such and such a book, a big book, and read up on it and do it. So I bought the big book on incorporation, how to organize a corporation, from the bookstore. And on the night train I read it all through the night.


Hansen

Read it on the train? (laughter)


Kikuchi

Yes, no sleep. (laughter) And I read about mass meeting, all those who agree say "Aye" and so on. The next morning I went to the store and started to incorporate the two stores. Of course, I went back and forth to the lawyer. That was the only time I thought I was smart in my life. I am dumb now, but that was smart work. I must have been twenty-one or twenty-two.


Hansen

You were just a young man, weren't you?


Kikuchi

Yes. Everybody was young in those days among the Japanese. So I stayed in the store as accountant and bookkeeper and I had fairly good wages. I kept a little portion of my wages, and the balance I sent to Japan. I had to pay a little bit of my debts--I thought they were my debts but it was Father's debts. And still it was not enough, but business was good. That store was so good, they gave dividends, 20 percent dividends every six months. There's not any business in this world that gives 40 percent dividends, that's impossible, but they did.



198
Hansen

Was your employer in San Diego a Caucasian?


Kikuchi

All Japanese there. Naturally I had money at that time, because I saved up part of my wages. It was mostly a provision business. We dealt with rice producers, but then one day something happened. Some company sent a salesman, to sell rice by the carload, I don't know how many, two thousand sacks or something, I've forgotten. One of the managers was talking all the time, doing the transaction. It was about $3.50 for a sack of rice--wholesale price--"Make it about $3.00," he said. I hated to hear those things back and forth, back and forth. "Well," he said, "I can buy exactly the same kind of rice at $3.00 from such and such a company," and the salesman finally yielded and made it $3.00 a sack. The deal was made and that day was ended. Next morning came and I said; "Doi, you lied yesterday, didn't you?" "Of course I did," he said. (laughter)


Hansen

Of course he did.


Kikuchi

Yes. "Why did you do it?" And he said, "Look here, with just one lie you make a profit of fifty cents a sack. In many carloads there are thousands of dollars in profit." "That's right," I said. "If that's all you want, then I quit! You make your living by lying, don't you? I don't want to lie to make a living, so right this morning I quit!" And I quit right there.


Hansen

How long had you worked there?


Kikuchi

Three years.


Hansen

Do you recall if San Diego had a Japanese town when you were there?


Kikuchi

Yes, a small town, with just a few Japanese business houses--five or six, I don't remember how many. I was jobless now. Again I prayed hard for guidance for my future course.


Hansen

You didn't know who to pray to, did you?


Kikuchi

I had begun to attend a Christian mission so I could pray to God. "Help me find a business where I don't have to lie." I prayed hard again. My family in Japan is related to medicine. My uncle's cousin was the founder of Keio University in Tokyo. My youngest uncle was a doctor in Osaka. There was also a professor of German in a medical school. My father started in medicine, but he got nearsighted and quit--so I was told.


Hansen

So it's a medical family.


Kikuchi

Yes, a medical family, more or less. My father knew a lot about medicine. I like medicine, too. So I asked myself, "Shall I take medical courses?" There's still guessing in medicine sometimes, but I like medicine very much. How about dentistry, you don't have to lie, you can practice dentistry without a lie. So, I decided to take up dentistry. At that moment God ordained me as a dentist. I was really


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determined to be a dentist. After that, you know, I had many business opportunities and manufacturers' offers and so on, but I never took them. It was straight, nothing but dentistry in my life.


Hansen

Did you stay in San Diego, or did you come back to Los Angeles?


Kikuchi

I took a night train to Los Angeles. I went to dental college which at that time was on Fifth and Wall Street. I wanted to visit my friend there, but he wasn't there. A lady told me, "He's not there." "I would like to enter this college," I said. "Well, if you want to enter the college you have to see the dean," she said. "Do you want to see the dean?" "Yes, I do." So she introduced me to Dean Ford.


Hansen

Which university or college is this?


Kikuchi

University of Southern California [USC] School of Dentistry. I went to Dean Ford's office, and I was so afraid; I'd never been to such a place, never been to a dean's office. Then he said, "Oh, so you want to enter the college. Then you must be a graduate of an American high school; it's a requirement." I told him that I did not have an American diploma. "Then you need to take the entrance examination." "But I live in San Diego." "Well, I'll introduce you to the examiner's office." So I took the examination that evening. It all occurred in one day. So he examined me that night. That was the very night when Halley's Comet was supposed to hit the earth. So that night he examined me and said, "Everything is all right." He put down my grades for everything--except English and Latin. Those were requirements. For English you had to write a thesis or something, and I was thinking of comets. (laughter) Anyway, because I had been to business college I could write a little bit at that time. He read it and said it was all right but that I still needed more brushing up. He said to take one year of English lessons and, I think, two years of Latin. He mentioned a medical Latin textbook, so I bought it right away. When I went back to San Diego, I employed a tutor to take lessons, and every night I went to Miss Davidson's place for lessons. I finished the lessons in one month.


Hansen

One month?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

Was it a big book, too?


Kikuchi

Yes, but I had to do it. I didn't study English at all. Meanwhile, I had applied for work at a dentist's office in San Diego. He paid six dollars a week. It was a little bit, but not enough to keep me from going hungry.


Hansen

Did you work in a dentist's office as an assistant?


Kikuchi

No, in the laboratory. You know, to make money you have to be in business, but I abandoned it. I was an apprentice in a dentist's laboratory


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for six dollars a week. During that time, I bought an anatomy book from a secondhand bookstore and studied up. I learned all of the anatomy. When I was working in the dentist's office, I finished his one thousand page book on operative dentistry and returned it to the dentist. "You finished it?" He said, "It takes three years to finish it." Anatomy is the hardest.

I was still working as an apprentice so I thought I wasn't entitled to go to dental school yet. One day the dentist I worked for met a member of Southern California's Dental School faculty in San Diego. He showed him my examination paper. "Oh, it's wonderful. Why doesn't he enter school? That's a wonderful record, his credit condition is all right." So he told me, "You better go to school." I said that I thought I wasn't entitled to enter school. "But all right," I said, "I'll go right away." So the next day I left on the night train.


Hansen

Back to Los Angeles?


Kikuchi

Los Angeles. Well, I had already saved the tuition. I entered as a freshman. I couldn't speak English, I couldn't understand so well, just a little bit. A funny thing happened. One time the professor asked me a difficult question; I said, "I caunt." (laughter) In Japan I learned British English.


Hansen

Were you the only Japanese in the university?


Kikuchi

No, there were four of us. In that particular class, there were four Japanese student dentists. And one, Fred Yoshida, was the best scholastic student. I was not so bad, Yoshida and I were pretty good. For instance, anatomy is the hardest, and my first year, 99 percent; second year, 100 percent.


Hansen

Who, you?


Kikuchi

Yes, I made it. Anyway, anatomy is the hardest, and 99 percent isn't bad.


Hansen

No!


Kikuchi

One hundred percent isn't bad at all. (Both laugh) So you can imagine hardly anything under ninety there. I don't have a record of that, but if you go up to USC, they'll verify that Yoshida and I were pretty good. At graduation, he had scholarship medal. I had Ford medal for being an honor student. I hate to tell you this story, but at that time discrimination was so strong. Every year they give one scholarship medal and one for the best technological student, so two medals were issued. At my graduation, two Japanese were awarded the medals, and no white students. So they manufactured two more medals, and four medals were given that time.


Hansen

So that Caucasians could have some?



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Kikuchi

Yes, and next year it was back to two medals. I shouldn't mention it to you, but it was a fact.


Hansen

No, you should mention it.


Kikuchi

I graduated in June 1914 and then I took the state board examination and passed it in the same month. I didn't lose any time, except on the night train. (laughter) I really worked hard all the way through. I started my office right away. As soon as I got my license, I opened up.


Hansen

Where was your office?


Kikuchi

At that time it was 121 South San Pedro Street, Los Angeles, where the Kajima building is today.


Hansen

Were there a lot of Japanese in that area?


Kikuchi

Yes, at that time Little Tokyo was there.


Hansen

Were most of your patients Japanese?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

Could you have had a practice elsewhere or not? Was there a lot of discrimination against Japanese dentists?


Kikuchi

Well, I never thought of that, it was easiest to practice in Japanese town, so I did. Patients came from all over the country.


Hansen

Do you mean all over Los Angeles, Orange County, or what?


Kikuchi

Yes, even San Diego and Santa Barbara and as far as San Francisco.


Hansen

Did you ever have to travel or did they all come to you?


Kikuchi

Yes, they came to me. Some judge came from Texas, to have me put a denture in. He wrote back to me, "For the first time I can chew on beefsteak." (laughter)


Hansen

Were you making a good living?


Kikuchi

Yes, I made a living and could send quite a bit of my earnings to my parents. That helped my father's debts quite a bit with the difference between yen and dollars. Meanwhile, my brother had grown up and gone to work. My father's health was restored. In 1917 I went back to Japan and was married to a student of Doshisha Christian College at Kyoto. That influenced me quite a bit in a Christian sense.


Hansen

Was it an arranged marriage or did you already know her?


Kikuchi

I didn't know her, but when I went to Japan I got to go to Kyoto many times. My father visited my future father in-law's house in Kyoto.


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You see, before going to Doshisha College, of which he was the first graduate, he went to the same school as my father. It was called Osaka Seisoku Eigo Gakko, later to become the Osaka Medical College. I was told that it was the first American school, headed by Captain James, an American teacher.


Hansen

Did it have any connections with a church?


Kikuchi

I don't think it had anything to do with religion, it was more or less a military school run by Americans. In our warehouse I found a lot of uniforms, the same as those worn in the Civil War period. That school produced so many famous people in the Meiji era.


Hansen

Did your dad learn English there?


Kikuchi

Yes, they taught it at the school. But at that time American masters said, "I caunt." (laughter) Finally, the father consented to give his daughter to me. She was born a Christian. I went to church all along, since I was in Los Angeles in 1907. I had been going to the mission all the time. When you pray seriously, you understand better. I am still a Methodist, and still singing in the choir. I believe in the Holy Ghost, too.


Hansen

Was this a Japanese Methodist church?


Kikuchi

Yes, and in San Diego there was a Congregational church.


Hansen

So you went to a Congregational church in San Diego and a Methodist church in Los Angeles.


Kikuchi

To me, denomination means nothing. It's Christ's teaching, that's the main thing.


Hansen

How long did you stay in Japan after you got married?


Kikuchi

I left Japan as soon as I could after our honeymoon. I was there for three months altogether.


Hansen

Was this in 1917?


Kikuchi

Late winter of 1917 and early 1918. I was married in Kyoto in early January of 1918. The next day after my return to Los Angeles I went back to my dentistry work. There wasn't much change until the war.


Hansen

Did you stay on San Pedro Street, Los Angeles, with your dental practice the whole time?


Kikuchi

Yes, but I moved across the street, to the second floor of 312 East First Street until the war came.


Hansen

Let me ask you a few questions about the period in between. Were you in any associations, like the Japanese Association?



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Kikuchi

None at all, I didn't agree with their principles, so I never affiliated with the Japanese Association or any of them.


Hansen

What was your reason?


Kikuchi

I can't make it public; if you turn off the recorder, I can tell you.

(Tape stopped here)


Kikuchi

Now you're the only one that knows.

I've belonged to the Methodist church for seventy or more years. I belong to the Japan-American Society, a cultural society whose object is to promote better international relations between Japan and America. And, of course, I belong to the American Dental Society. I am one of the earliest members of the Japanese Dental Society.


Hansen

Japanese doctors had a difficult time being able to practice at most of the hospitals in southern California prior to the war. Was there any prejudice or discrimination against Japanese dentists?


Kikuchi

I don't know. Did doctors have trouble in the hospitals?


Hansen

Yes, they had to start their own hospitals and medical association, didn't they?


Kikuchi

Yes. They have a Japanese hospital, City View Hospital. I used to be the director of a Japanese hospital a long time ago and I thought it was the best organization, but now it's physician controlled.


Hansen

Did you spend much time in Little Tokyo when you were practicing dentistry?


Kikuchi

Yes, I did, up to the time of the war. When I was practicing in Little Tokyo, most of the officers of the Japanese Association were arrested, but I wasn't. Many times the FBI came to my office, and didn't arrest me, but one time they arrested my patient.


Hansen

When was this, after Pearl Harbor?


Kikuchi

Yes, they were always after us, every hour, but my wife and I weren't arrested.


Hansen

Were you remarried yet, or was this your first wife?


Kikuchi

I was remarried. My first wife was not strong and so contracted tuberculosis. She suffered for seven or eight years. I nursed her at home and she died at home. A lot of people told me to send her to the hospital, but you can't get good care there. I was the one to originate mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I invented the oxygen gas mask. I took a rubber ball and put the rubber hose into it and hooked it up to a big tank. The tanks cost sixty dollars each and she used at least one tank a day. I employed a trained nurse day


204
and night. When the family doctor was there, she was suffocating, so I put my mouth to hers. That was forty or fifty years ago and doctors hadn't invented mouth-to-mouth resuscitation yet. She coughed and was revived again. The doctor said, "Don't do it, don't do it, you might contract t.b." I was ready to die for her and give my life for her sake. Anyway, after she died, I waited five years before remarrying. I really thought she would come back in the flesh.


Hansen

What year did she die, 1933?


Kikuchi

Yes, in 1933 when I was forty-seven years old. I honestly thought God could make anything for me, but she didn't come back in the flesh. Finally, I went to a psychiatrist for advice and he said for me to get remarried for my young children's management. At that time, my present wife was working for a cultural society which was half governmental and half private organization in Japan. They sent delegates from Japan to lecture all through America. Finally, she acquired a whole floor at Rockefeller Center and put the cultural society headquarters there. I felt sorry for her then for working too hard. So I relieved her work by marrying her. (laughter) I had the nerve to go out and catch her and she finally consented.


Hansen

Was it common for a Nisei to marry an Issei? Your wife is a Nisei, right?


Kikuchi

Yes. It wasn't too common, but there were quite a few marriages like this. She had a typical American spirit, she was thoroughly American and speaks Japanese fluently. She's strong minded and it was pretty hard for her to adjust herself, but finally she tamed down.


Hansen

How many children did you have? When were they born?


Kikuchi

Two by my first wife. The oldest is a daughter, Miyo, born in 1917. Four years later, in 1921, my son, Isao, was born. Isao is a commercial artist, a designer. He has one daughter. Miyo has three boys. Nobody but me is a dentist in America. In Japan, my next brother is a dentist; his son is a dental professor and president of a dental society. My next brother is a dentist and his wife is also a dentist. His son is a dentist and his son's wife is a dentist. In Japan, seven or eight close relatives are dentists. In America, I'm the only one.


Hansen

When Pearl Harbor was invaded, how did it affect you?


Kikuchi

I was listenting to the radio then and I heard the emperor's declaration. The emperor said, "Sorry, but those Japanese subjects living in America, do your duty to America." That's a fact, he said that.


Hansen

Was that right after Pearl Harbor?


Kikuchi

Yes, it was at that time. Well, FBI arrests were being made here and there and finally a commander rounded up all the Japanese and sent them to concentration camps.



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Hansen

Some Issei were picked up right after Pearl Harbor. Were you one of them?


Kikuchi

No. They had no grounds for arrest. I am a doctor and didn't belong to the Japanese Association or have connections with a Japanese school. FBI came over many times, but didn't arrest me. I was one of the last ones to go. Oh, you want to know about the evacuation. We volunteered instead of being dragged to camp. My whole family volunteered. Miyo first, then Isao and next us. We put everything into two duffle bags. You couldn't carry more than $100, and the law said you couldn't bring more than you can carry. My wife carried her own bag. We went to the Union Pacific station. It was the first time the railroad was being used to go to Manzanar War Relocation Center. It was early morning and frost was on the road. It was around winter, I think. It was a cold morning and we brought our duffle bags. There was a road, but it wasn't paved. On the east side of Los Angeles River, on the other side of the railroad, there were geranium plants, all pulled out and put over to the side. I was so struck by the sight of geraniums, I made a poem, "Uprooted, thrown in a pile, side of the road. But remember, rise again and full bloom once again." It's a Japanese poem, and that's the sentiment I had.


Hansen

Is this the sixth time down, seven times up philosophy?


Kikuchi

In a way, yes. The Japanese were uprooted. Like the Japanese geranium, it is strong and will bloom again. I'll never forget, it will stand up and give full bloom again. It was like my determination and sentiment. I kept that in my diary.


Hansen

Were you part of the first group to ride to Manzanar?


Kikuchi

Yes, the first family group. My wife was the first person to be picked by the social welfare department; she was the head of the family relations department.


Hansen

When you got evacuated to Manzanar, were you going to set up a dental clinic there in camp?


Kikuchi

Yes, at Manzanar we couldn't carry anything with us so I went there barehanded. I picked up nails on the street and burned them up so I could treat teeth. After awhile, an officer in the administration got to go to Los Angeles. I asked him to get some of my instruments and medicine from my house in Hollywood, where they were stored. So he broke down the door to my warehouse and took my instruments. Some of them were deposited in a supply house and he went there. I am guilty of smuggling equipment and medicine into the camp and that's how the dental clinic got started.


Hansen

How long after you arrived did it take to get the dental clinic going, a couple of months?


Kikuchi

Yes, about a couple of months. And now, I will describe the scenery.


206
The desert was bulldozed to level it off. Barracks were built all over for the 10,000 people that lived there. When the wind blew, it was terrible, just like Imperial Valley sandstorms. Oh, everybody resented being put in such a place, especially when they were suffocated by sand!


Hansen

Were there a lot of complaints during the early days?


Kikuchi

Oh yes! There was dysentery at the beginning, sanitation was so bad. I wasn't resentful because a year before I had traveled all around there and thought it was a nice place. When I get old, I thought, I'm going to retire here; so I had no resentments, I liked the place. But the rest of them resented it. When the wind blows, the sand goes in the kitchen, in pans, and the hot rice. On the top of the rice they put Jell-O, since we had only one plate to eat out of, so it all melted together.


Hansen

What were your major complaints about Manzanar?


Kikuchi

I was satisfied. I volunteered to go over there. No matter how bad, I got to serve, that's my duty. I was a dentist serving my patriotic duty.


Hansen

To the country or to the Japanese people?


Kikuchi

To all the people. Since we all have to serve, I serve as a dentist. My purpose is to serve mankind. In Manzanar I served everybody, including an American soldier who patrolled the camp with a gun. I'm the only one who treated Americans the same. I put the soldier in the hospital and extracted the tooth with general anesthesia. Everytime, I was the one to handle the Caucasians. Once I left, nobody would do it.


Hansen

You were the only dentist willing to work on any patients whatsoever?


Kikuchi

I worked on everybody, prisoner or governor. I was working in the spirit of the Red Cross in the camp.


Hansen

What did the other dentists do?


Kikuchi

Oh, that's a different story. They said, "Don't work so much, you only get $19 a month, do one or two patients a day and don't work anymore." I worked with forty or sixty patients everyday. Today I work on only four patients a day.


Hansen

Did the other dentists resent the fact that you worked so much or did they think you were foolish?


Kikuchi

Well, I had no control over the other dentists. But I did it for myself, for my own satisfaction. I got a record, I made other dentists work too hard. One day the other dentists held a strike against me.


Hansen

When was this?



207
Kikuchi

About one year later, so that's about the time to leave Manzanar, so I went to New York.


Hansen

Who was your superior at Manzanar?


Kikuchi

A director, I guess.


Hansen

Were there any Caucasians heading the medical facility?


Kikuchi

Let's see, there was the Manzanar director, and next to him the medical director. I was supposed to be directly under the medical director. My title was Chief of the Dental Clinic.


Hansen

Were you under Dr. James Goto?


Kikuchi

Yes, while the camp was under Army management. I was on my own after civilian management took over.


Hansen

How many dentists did you have working for you in the dental clinic?


Kikuchi

Oh, towards the end, ten.


Hansen

Did you make $19 a month?


Kikuchi

Yes, and my wife made only $19 a month; but when she quit, a Caucacasian lady in the social welfare department made $300 to $400 a month. That was quite a difference from $19.


Hansen

How much were you making in your practice before you evacuated?


Kikuchi

I think somewhere around $300 a month at that time. Before the war it was very bad.


Hansen

When you were at Manzanar, at first you didn't get any pay for a couple of months, and then they finally paid you $19 a month. Is this correct?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

What block did you live in? Who was your block leader; was he a Nisei?


Kikuchi

I don't remember what block number it was or who the leader was. But at the beginning, we were at the very end of the camp, in the house next to the hospital, a very nice place.


Hansen

What can you tell me about the Manzanar Riot that occurred in December 1942.


Kikuchi

Oh, I don't know, because I was never concerned about it. My wife and I were neutral and had no enemies. We were friends with the Caucasians, we treated everybody the same. The Japanese were talking all the time about war. We were so friendly, they thought we were spies or something.



208
Hansen

Were you accused of being an inu [traitor, dog]?


Kikuchi

Yes, one time my son locked me up from outside in the barrack. After a little while, the riot came, and they raided the hospital that night, Of course, I went in and out of the Caucasian quarters and talked; the director invited me for dinner and visits. No other people were invited, but my wife and I were invited everywhere. I don't know why.


Hansen

What do you think caused the riot?


Kikuchi

I don't know what the cause was. It was said that some Nisei were reporting certain Japanese to the government.


Hansen

Is it true that they were doing it?


Kikuchi

At that time I think they did, a lot of them.


Hansen

Who do you have in mind, Fred Tayama or Tokie Slocum?


Kikuchi

I do not know for a fact, but whoever did do it wasn't using good sense. Good people were raided, you know, many physicians, harmless school-teachers, they were all put in concentration camps. They went to the FBI to report them.

At that time people blamed the JACL [Japanese American Citizens League]. It was the organization that the Issei didn't like.


Hansen

Why didn't the Issei like the JACL?


Kikuchi

Issei didn't like them because they reported them, that's the main reason. They were doing good work but hundreds were arrested, and many resented Tayama, as the man who did a lot of reporting. I know him, and Mike Masaoka's older brother, Grant. When Grant was visiting Manzanar everybody was after him, so they put a white gown on him and put him in the ward in the hospital. Nobody can get in the contagious ward. He never went out, and when I was free, I used to feed him. I don't know which one was older, Mike or Grant.


Hansen

What was the general feeling among the Issei toward the Kibei in camp?


Kikuchi

I don't think there were any problems. There was a little difference in talk, in dialects, but that's all. Raised in Japan and raised here makes different thoughts of the same thing.


Hansen

Some people said the Kibei were troublemakers in camp. Did you feel this was true or not?


Kikuchi

No, I was in the hospital, day and night. My wife knows that question better. Yes, maybe, because Kibei had more pro-Japanese sentiment, they can't help it. Although he's an American the memories are thicker, that's the only difference.


Hansen

Do you think the Nisei regarded Kibei as different from themselves?



209
Kikuchi

Yes, quite different. To me, Kibei, Nisei, Issei and Sansei are all the same. In the church I call myself a Sansei.


Hansen

Do you think that you're typical?


Kikuchi

No, I'm very different.


Hansen

When they had the Manzanar riot, in which two of the internees were killed and ten of them wounded by gunshot, did you get a chance to treat any of the victims?


Kikuchi

I was in the hospital but I wasn't with the victims. It is true that one was shot.


Hansen

I heard or read somewhere that one reason the administration was anxious to get rid of Dr. Goto was because he wrote up a report indicating that the victims had been shot in the back. Do you recall where they were shot?


Kikuchi

No, I don't know but I heard directly from Goto on that matter. He was influenced by the administration, and had to sign the papers.


Hansen

Was the victim, James Ito, shot in the back?


Kikuchi

I don't know where he was shot, but he was shot at the camp boundary line, at the gate. He must have gone a little beyond bounds, according to rumors. Goto told me that it was the guard's mistake, but administration put so much pressure on Goto to sign otherwise. That was an honest confession from Goto. Goto thought it was the guard's mistake, but it was wartime. Mistake or no mistake, you can't argue, especially in a camp like that; anything goes. Anything the administration does is right and the prisoner's conduct is wrong.


Hansen

How long did you stay in Manzanar?


Kikuchi

Two or maybe a little bit over two years. Then I applied for resettlement.


Hansen

Where did you go?


Kikuchi

Well, I asked what tickets would take me the farthest from Manzanar.


Hansen

Why did you want to get out of Manzanar?


Kikuchi

Oh, the government encouraged it, and everybody was supposed to go out of the camp.


Hansen

Didn't a lot of people stay?


Kikuchi

Yes.


Hansen

Where did you go?



210
Kikuchi

Oh, I couldn't get tickets to Tokyo or Berlin because war is going on. (laughter) New York is the farthest, so I went to New York.


Hansen

What did you do for work in New York?


Kikuchi

I was lost in a strange city.


Hansen

Did you get a job as a dentist in New York?


Kikuchi

No, without a license you are helpless. I applied for everything. Finally, a famous dentist employed me as a technician. I worked there for one year and learned a lot, at fifty dollars a week. When the law was passed saying Japanese could come back to California, that minute we packed everything and came back to Los Angeles.


Hansen

Did you start up your practice as soon as you got back?


Kikuchi

I started in the Vimcar Building on San Pedro Street, Los Angeles. I had to hire assistants because I was too busy. I got to be a nervous wreck, so I moved over here, on Boyle Avenue, in semiretirement fashion. But just the same, patients come; the older I get, the more patients I get. (laughter)


Hansen

During the war, the housing area of Little Tokyo was taken over by blacks, wasn't it?


Kikuchi

Yes. My wife and I were the only two persons to get out of Manzanar to go to Los Angeles during the war. Somehow, I had some privileges when I went out. So I went there and it was a terrible sight. At the outbreak of the war, I looked at the American Association membership list and Southern California Dental Association, and all the Japanese names were ousted, deprived of their membership. But I was the only one retained on the membership list. Dr. Borland, president of Southern California Dental office at that time, wrote me a letter. It said: "If you pay one or two more years of dues, you will be a life member of society." That's an easy thing so I wrote a check. Instead of kicking me out he gave me life membership. Isn't that a great privilege?


Hansen

Yes. How long did it take you to restore your income up to the prewar level. You were getting three hundred a month in your practice before going to Manzanar.


Kikuchi

Right away, very busy, too busy. Immediately my income rose sharply over the prewar level.


Hansen

Were a lot of Japanese moving into Boyle Heights then?


Kikuchi

Yes, a lot of them.


Hansen

Are most of the customers you now have Japanese?


Kikuchi

Yes, mostly Japanese but also many Caucasians. There are four


211
hundred people at the Hollenbeck Home for the Aged nearby, and they all come to me.


Hansen

Did the evacuation experience lower your estimation of the democractic values of the American society?


Kikuchi

No, it's just the same. My standpoint is so different, I don't think like other people. I don't really know what you're asking, but I respect the law. I don't know much about politics.


Hansen

Not so much for yourself, as an Issei, since you were an alien; but for your children, who are Nisei, and American citizens, to have their citizenship disregarded and put into relocation centers or concentration camps, whatever you want to call them. Didn't it seem wrong to you?


Kikuchi

In wartime I thought nothing of it; but fundamentally, it was not right.


Hansen

Do you think the government made a mistake by putting the Nisei with the Issei in the camps?


Kikuchi

To put citizens in the camp is not right, but you have to understand, it was wartime, anything may happen. I recognize that American government made a mistake, but it was wartime, so I excuse them.


Hansen

Do you think there was some reason for the government to do it?


Kikuchi

There was no sane reason. But the same thing may happen again, you can't help it; wartime, right or wrong, it's wartime.


Hansen

So it was a mistake, but because it was wartime...


Kikuchi

It's no mistake, it's just natural, that's why I volunteered. I know it's wrong to be put in such a place, dusty place, with dysentery and poor food, but I was willing to serve. I worked on sixty patients a day. Why? Because my understanding is different. I do it for humanity's sake. That is still my understanding.


Hansen

So there's a law higher than the civil law.


Kikuchi

You've got to look to the above, after all it was wartime, same in Germany, Russia, anywhere. The country will do almost anything. The former prime minister of Japan, Ashida, my former classmate, wrote to me at the outbreak of the war, "Right or wrong, this is my country." He was Minister of Foreign Affairs a year before the war. He knew what Japan was doing was wrong, at that time. Of course, he knew the military faction was doing the wrong thing. Right or wrong this is my country, that's what he thought. I got to say the same thing.


Hansen

When did you become a citizen?


Kikuchi

I've forgotten the exact date.



212
Hansen

Sometime after 1952?


Kikuchi

Yes, in 1954. I don't change my conviction: if I live in China, I do good for China; if in Jerusalem, I conform to Jerusalem.


Hansen

I have no further questions, Dr. Kikuchi. I'd like to thank you very much on behalf of the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Oral History Project. I certainly enjoyed talking to you and both your time and cooperation are greatly appreciated.



213

Index

  • American Dental Society, 203, 210
  • Attitudes toward
    • evacuation and relocation, 205, 211
    • Kibei, 208, 209
    • law, 211
    • Manzanar War Relocation Center, 206
  • Borland, Dr., 210
  • Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, California, 210
  • City View Hospital, Los Angeles, 203
  • Congregational Church, 202
  • Dentistry, 198, 199, 201, 205, 206, 207, 210
  • Doshida Christian College, 201, 202
  • Emigration, 194
  • Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), 203, 204, 208
  • Ford, Dean, 199
  • Goto, Dr. James, 207, 209
  • Hollenbeck Home for the Aged, 211
  • Hyogo-Ken, Japan, 193
  • Immigration, 194
  • Issei, 204, 208, 211
  • James, Captain, 202
  • Japan, 193, 194, 195
  • Japanese American Citizens League (JACL), 208
  • Japan-American Society, 203
  • Japanese army, 194
  • Japanese Association, 202, 203, 205
  • Japanese Dental Society, 203
  • Japanese Town, Los Angeles, see Little Tokyo, San Diego, 198
  • Kibei, 208, 209
  • Kikuchi, Dr. Yoriyuki
  • Kumamoto-Ken, Japan, 193
  • Kyoto, Japan, 193, 201, 202
  • Little Tokyo, Los Angeles, California, 196, 197, 201, 203, 210
  • Manzanar War Relocation Center, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209
  • Masaoka, Grant, 208
  • Masaoka, Mike, 208
  • Methodist Mission, Los Angeles, California, 196
  • Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, discovery of, 203, 204

  • 214
  • New York, New York, 207, 210
  • Nisei, 204, 211
  • Orange County, California, 201
  • Osaka Seisoku Eigo Gakko (Osaka Medical College), 202
  • oxygen gas mask, invention of, 203
  • Pearl Harbor, 203, 204
  • Racial discrimination, 200, 203
  • Religion, 195, 196, 198, 201, 202, 203, 204
  • Resettlement, 209, 210
  • Riverside, California, 195
  • Russo-Japanese War, 194
  • Samurai, 193
  • San Bernardino County, California, 196
  • San Diego, California, 197, 198, 199
  • San Francisco, California, 194
  • Sansei, 219
  • Santa Barbara, California, 201
  • Slocum, Tokie, 208
  • Stanford University, Palo Alto, California, 195
  • Tayama, Fred, 208
  • Union Pacific Railroad, 205
  • University of Southern California, Los Angeles, California, 199
  • Voluntary evacuation, 205
  • Woodbury Business College, Los Angeles, California, 196, 197
  • Yoshida, Fred, 200

An Interview with
George Fukasawa
Conducted by Arthur A. Hansen
on August 12, 1974
for the
California State University, Fullerton
Oral History Program
Japanese American Project

Japanese American Evacuation
O.H. 1336

©1976
The Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton

Use Restrictions

This is a slightly edited transcription of an interview conducted for the Oral History Program, sponsored by California State University, Fullerton. The reader should be aware that an oral history document portrays information as recalled by the interviewee. Because of the spontaneous nature of this kind of document, it may contain statements and impressions which are not factual

Scholars are welcome to utilize short excerpts from any of the transcriptions without obtaining permission as long as proper credit is given to the interviewee, the interviewer, and the University. Scholars must, however, obtain permission from California State University, Fullerton before making more extensive use of the transcription and related materials. None of these materials may be duplicated or reproduced by any party without permission from the Oral History Program, California State University, Fullerton, Fullerton, California, 92834-6846.


219

Interview

  • Interviewee:
  •     George Fukasawa
  • Interviewer:
  •     Arthur A. Hansen
  • Subject:
  •     Japanese American Evacuation
  • Date:
  •     August 12, 1974
Hansen

This is an interview with Mr. George Fukasawa for the California State University, Fullerton, Japanese American Oral History Project, by Arthur A. Hansen at the CSUF campus, on August 12, 1974, at 10:00 a.m.

Why don't we start off the interview, Mr. Fukasawa, by having you relate a little bit about you family background. Where were your parents born, and why did they immigrate to the United States?


Fukasawa

Well, my parents were first-generation Japanese and they came from Japan directly to the United States. My father arrived in California in approximately 1902 and my mother came over in 1908. They were married and my father came over here with the idea of making his fortune--as did many common laborer types. He was an educated man.

However, positions and jobs for educated people with Japanese heritage were not very plentiful. So he worked at many jobs, particularly in the realm of farming--orchard farming--until finally he went into business for himself in orchard farming in Ventura County.


Hansen

Before we get into that, I was wondering if we could talk some about where your parents lived in Japan.


Fukasawa

My mother was from Tokyo and my father was from a town called Maebashi, which is about one hundred miles north of Tokyo.


Hansen

And in which prefecture was that?


Fukasawa

The Gunma Prefecture.



220
Hansen

And were both your parents from a samurai background, or just your father?


Fukasawa

My father was from a samurai background. My mother was from a religious background. Her father and grandfather were both priests in the Greek Orthodox Church.


Hansen

The Greek Orthodox Church?


Fukasawa

They were among the first Christian missionaries in Japan.


Hansen

Was your father also a Christian at the time he came to the United States?


Fukasawa

Yes, he was. He was a member of the same church.


Hansen

So he knew her through the church.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

So this wasn't a picture bride arrangement?


Fukasawa

No, no.


Hansen

This was somebody he had met and brought over?


Fukasawa

The families were well-acquainted before they came over.


Hansen

Okay, now we can get into your father's economic activities once he got here. He went to Ventura County, and did he buy some land at that time?


Fukasawa

No, we leased property and we went into farming. They had five children, of which I am the oldest, and we all went through school in a town called Ojai in Ventura Country. My sister is still teaching high school there. The family moved away from there in 1931 because of economic conditions that made farming not very profitable.


Hansen

What years are we talking about? When were you born?


Fukasawa

I was born in 1910. We went to Ojai in 1917, so I went through all of my pre-college education in the Ojai Valley.


Hansen

Why didn't your father purchase the land, was it partly because this was prohibited according to the Alien Land Act of 1913?


Fukasawa

Yes, he couldn't purchase land because he was an alien. He could've purchased it in the name of his children like many of them did; however, this happened to be the most practical arrangement for his purposes.



221
Hansen

Do you recall the acreage of your property?


Fukasawa

About 160 acres.


Hansen

Now many Japanese immigrants had to resort to submarginal land. Would you classify the land that you had in the Ventura area as submarginal.


Fukasawa

Well, yes it was, but that wasn't because we were forced to go to submarginal land. I think many farmers were able to farm in very good land, and I think part of our farm was good land.


Hansen

Was it good to begin with or was it improved?


Fukasawa

Well, part of it was improved. We cleared off a lot of it and planted new trees.


Hansen

Was this a family operation? Did all of you work on the farm?


Fukasawa

Yes, we did.


Hansen

Was this a totally rural area that you were living in? I know that Ojai is still a small community today.


Fukasawa

Yes, it is. It was a rural community.


Hansen

Were there other Japanese farmers in that area?


Fukasawa

No, we were the only ones. So until I got out of high school, I never knew another Japanese student.


Hansen

So you, along with your brothers, were the only Nisei.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

Did you visit Los Angeles when you were a child?


Fukasawa

No, we didn't. We weren't able to visit Los Angeles, but we visited neighboring towns in Ventura County such as Oxnard and Ventura, and there were a number of Japanese living in those areas. So we were able to get acquainted with quite a few families.


Hansen

How did you have contact, aside from the family, with the Japanese culture? Did you take a newspaper from Los Angeles?


Fukasawa

Yes, my folks subscribed to a Japanese newspaper, the Rafu Shimpo, from Los Angeles.


Hansen

Was there a Japanese language school available for you to


222
attend in Oxnard or Ventura?


Fukasawa

No, there wasn't one close enough for any of us to attend, so the only cultural indoctrination we got was mostly through my mother telling us folk tales and reading to us from Japanese books.


Hansen

Did both of your parents speak English quite fluently when they came here?


Fukasawa

Yes, they did.


Hansen

And they learned it over in Japan prior to immigrating?


Fukasawa

Yes, they did.


Hansen

So in your house mostly English was spoken?


Fukasawa

Until we started school. While we were pre-school age, our folks talked to us in Japanese. They wanted us to retain the Japanese language. But since we were the only Japanese people in the Ojai Valley, when we started school, we picked up English, and since my folks understood it, well, English became our language at home.


Hansen

You said earlier that your family's land had to be given up. What were the reasons behind this decision?


Fukasawa

Well, in the early 1930s, if you remember, things were getting to a point where the economic market just fell apart; and when the cost of producing fruit became greater than the income from it, there was no point in staying. So my father moved us to Santa Monica and went into landscape gardening.


Hansen

How old were you at that time?


Fukasawa

I was in my second year of college.


Hansen

So you finished high school in Ojai.


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

It's been said that people in rural areas are sometimes quite provincial, and one of the hallmarks of their provinciality is prejudice registered against minorities. Was this the case in the Ojai Valley area?


Fukasawa

Well, I believe so, up to a point. But being the only person of Japanese ancestry in my classes, I didn't feel any prejudice. I suppose there were some subtle wrongs or prejudice being practiced, but being young and sort of outgoing at that time, I was actively engaged in all


223
school activities and athletics and I was generally up in all of my classes. I was considered one of the more popular kids in school.


Hansen

Which school did you go to?


Fukasawa

Nordhoff High School.


Hansen

Now when you went into Oxnard or Ventura, can you recount for us something of the nature of the Japanese American communities there? Or were there such communities?


Fukasawa

Yes, there were communities. There was a sizeable Japanese American community in Oxnard, and if I remember, looking back now, they were a pretty close-knit community. I think many of them around Southern California were. A lot of the first-generation people spoke just Japanese, so this gave them something in common. And they had Japanese language schools, so the younger people seemed to, or tended to, be clannish.


Hansen

Were they living in "Little Tokyos" at all, or were they farmers who simply came into town to use the services of the urban center?


Fukasawa

Well, there were Japanese merchants and Japanese businesses in these towns and they were "Little Tokyos" in a sense, but not very large ones.


Hansen

Did you ever visit Santa Barbara?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did.


Hansen

Was there a similar community there?


Fukasawa

Yes, there was. There were a number of Japanese stores catering to the Japanese farm population, selling Japanese groceries and imported goods.


Hansen

Would it be fair to characterize the Japanese American occupational situation in Ventura and Santa Barbara counties as being largely agricultural?


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right. Most of the workers were agricultural workers and the businesses were established more or less to cater to the needs of these people. It was more comfortable for these Japanese-speaking farmers to go to Japanese stores owned by Japanese people.


Hansen

Now, in some interviews we've done with Japanese Americans who were brought up during the same time period as you were, only in Orange County, another rural area, they indicated that they met certain types of discriminatory


224
practices in respect to public facilities. For instance, in movie theaters they were relegated to the balcony, up in what at that time was referred to as "nigger heaven." And also, when using the public swimming pools, they could only use them on the day before the water was going to be changed, when new water was going to be put in. Did you meet any sort of discrimination of that variety?


Fukasawa

I heard stories about that type of discrimination, so I more or less stayed clear of establishments of that type. They were entertainment types of establishments where we didn't really have to go, and I didn't especially care to run into any of that type of discrimination. So I never experienced any because of the fact that I didn't put myself in the position.


Hansen

How did your parents react to what must have been perceived by them as systematic discrimination against themselves, insofar as there were land laws passed against aliens and there were restrictive immigration practices after 1924, when they closed the doors to Japanese immigration? Do you recall, in the household, your parents' attitude toward this phenomenon?


Fukasawa

My parents' attitude was that a lot of this discrimination was something that was going on for a much longer period of time than before they came here. They inherited some of this from the Chinese immigration, if you remember. Their attitude was that their children being American citizens, fluent in English, and educated in American schools, would overcome this discrimination by really getting involved in American life and activities. So they encouraged us to strive for excellence in our studies, feeling that this was the only way that they would overcome this discrimination.


Hansen

Did they entertain thoughts from time to time of returning to Japan?


Fukasawa

My folks never did. They came over here with the express purpose of making their fortune here and raising their children. They wanted to visit their home country, of course, and they made several trips back there, but they considered America as their home and their children as Americans. So that's the attitude that we were brought up with.


Hansen

Their attitude, then, was somewhat different from some of the other Issei. When they came over here to make their fortune, part of their plan was to then return to Japan and elevate their status there and to provide a way of life for themselves in Japan. But your parents came over here to make their fortune and use the fortune here.



225
Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

Now you said that from time to time they returned to Japan; were you a child at the time?


Fukasawa

No, they had gone back after I had grown, I guess. The first trip they took back was after I was through college.


Hansen

So you didn't go back?


Fukasawa

No, I made my first trip to Japan three years ago.


Hansen

Unlike so many Nisei who had at least visited there, you never did visit in Japan.


Fukasawa

That's right, I didn't.


Hansen

And none of your brothers?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

So all of you were in Ojai in a very Americanized situation and really had very little contact with the Japanese culture, and none with Japan itself.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

When you lived in Santa Monica, there were certainly more Japanese there than in Ojai, weren't there?


Fukasawa

Yes, there were quite a number of them there. We had no such thing as a "Little Tokyo" in Santa Monica because of the proximity to Los Angeles. Most of the people who lived in the Santa Monica area either worked as landscape gardeners or worked and operated fruit stands, which were mostly run by Japanese at that time.


Hansen

Were you living with your parents when you went to Santa Monica? You said you were in college. Where did you go to college?


Fukasawa

I went to the University of California at Los Angeles.


Hansen

So you had spent two years at UCLA when your parents were still back at Ojai and then they moved to Santa Monica.


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

Did you live at home, fairly close to Santa Monica?


Fukasawa

Yes, I lived at home my last two years of college.


Hansen

What was your major in college?



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Fukasawa

I was majoring in chemistry.


Hansen

Why did you choose that particular major?


Fukasawa

Well, no specific reason, I was interested in science and I was good at it in high school. In those days, I didn't have any other goals except to continue my education in something that I was interested in and good at.


Hansen

Did you have any models to follow? Were there any Japanese American chemists that you knew?


Fukasawa

No, there were not; I had no model, as such. When I got to college, however, I took many other courses and I found my interest had widened into other fields of science such as biology and psychology, so I took many courses in those areas also.


Hansen

A lot of students who go to college in today's depressed economy are apprehensive that they might not be employed, even after they receive their Bachelor of Arts, at least not in their chosen field. Now, you were going to college in the depression period as a member of a minority group that had very little opportunity of employment outside of restricted areas, such as landscape gardening and running fruit stands. I've heard many, many tales of college-trained Nisei who had to return to such occupations. Was this sort of the psychology that you had? Were you apprehensive at the time?


Fukasawa

I wasn't apprehensive, as far as my own self was concerned. I had many people remark to me, "What's the use in your going to college when after you get your diploma, all you are going to do is either sell vegetables or push lawn mowers?" But my contention was that education is something that can never be taken away from you. And some day it would probably hold you in good stead. It took me many years to realize this.


Hansen

What happened when you did graduate from college; what was your job?


Fukasawa

I happened to work my way through college in the photographic industry, primarily in motion picture studios, and I did documentary motion pictures at UCLA for the Associated Students. So when I got out of college in 1932, I had some good connections in the field of photography. Also in 1932, the Olympic Games were in Los Angeles. So, I free-lanced the Olympic for many news services, particularly a few in Japan, and made many contacts there. I've been a photographer ever since I got out of college.



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Hansen

So when you got out of college, you were in a rather atypical position among other Nisei college graduates in that you did have employment--and employment with a certain amount of professional status to it.


Fukasawa

Yes, however it was in 1931 when we had a strike in the motion picture industry--a jurisdictional type of strike--which many of us college students who worked in the studios weren't in sympathy with. So a number went through the picket lines as scabs, and the union which was trying to get recognition employed a lot of strong-arm tactics, such as hiring professional goons and so forth. They intimidated enough people from work so that the studios finally knuckled under and signed agreements which closed the studios to anyone but union employees.


Hansen

So what did you do then?


Fukasawa

I lost my job and went into free-lance still photography after that.


Hansen

Were you able to make a living?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did. I made a living as a commercial and free-lance news photographer.


Hansen

And when did you get married?


Fukasawa

I had two marriages. The first, in 1933, lasted six years. My second marriage was in 1942, just before the evacuation; so we spent our honeymoon in Manzanar.


Hansen

Where were you living during your first marriage?


Fukasawa

In Santa Barbara.


Hansen

Oh, you returned to Santa Barbara in 1933?


Fukasawa

Yes, I went to Santa Barbara. I worked out of Santa Barbara for a few years. I tried a stint at owning a couple of food stands for awhile. I made some money during the Olympic Games and we invested that in a couple of food stands which seemed to be more stable as businesses, you know.


Hansen

Who, you and your brothers?


Fukasawa

No, I went into partnership with someone else. And after three years of that, why the Depression was getting bad and competition was pretty heavy. Rather than fight a situation to which I was foreign to and didn't care too much for, why, I got out of that and went back into photography.



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Hansen

In Santa Barbara?


Fukasawa

No, I went back into photography in the Los Angeles area. I moved back down to Santa Monica.


Hansen

And during this time, in the 1930s, as Japan's foreign policy became more expansionist and more militarist, there was a rise in discrimination towards the Japanese Americans, culminating, of course, in the evacuation in 1942. Did you feel, in the Los Angeles area, this stepping up of discriminatory feeling and practice by those in the dominant culture?


Fukasawa

There was quite a bit of discrimination. However, I was in a line of work and association with a certain kind of people where I wasn't subjected to too much discrimination. I would hear stories about someone being denied service at a barbershop and I was just the type of person at that time to check out things like that by going to the barbershop and sitting in a chair to see if I could get service. And I was never refused.


Hansen

So you personally didn't feel too much discrimination but you knew it was going on?


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

The late 1930s apparently were somewhat rough times for you--your first marriage was breaking up, and you were changing jobs quite frequently. Then along came Pearl Harbor. Do you recall the situation surrounding the news of Pearl Harbor, your own personal situation?


Fukasawa

Yes, I do. Of course, that happened on a Sunday morning, I believe. We were out at the beach that morning, my wife-to-be and I, and we first heard the news on the car radio. I was at that time a member of the Santa Monica Auxillary Police. So, the first thing I did was to report there to see what the situation was. I worked very closely with the police and the FBI [Federal Bureau of Investigation] in many of the investigations connected with potentially dangerous aliens.


Hansen

Did they allow you, a person of Japanese ancestry, to be privy to some of the information that was being circulated about potentially dangerous aliens?


Fukasawa

Well, I happened to be pretty well known in the community, and from working with the Caucasian community through my business connections and also through my civic activities, I was very useful to the investigative people at that time.



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Hansen

Were you a member of the JACL [Japanese American Citizens League]?


Fukasawa

Yes, I was. I was the vice-president of the Santa Monica chapter.


Hansen

Now, immediately after the announcement of Pearl Harbor, one of the steps that the JACL took was to form an Anti-Axis League, which was headed by a Mr. Tokie Slocum. Did you know Tokie Slocum?


Fukasawa

Yes. I later came to know him very well at Manzanar, but I didn't know him before we went to camp. I associated with him pretty intimately there.


Hansen

Did you know of the Anti-Axis Committee's existence?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did. However, I didn't know very much of their work. I didn't get involved in any of their work at all.


Hansen

Did you come under a certain amount of censorious criticism by the community insofar as you were cooperating with the authorities and apparently ferreting out information about potentially dangerous or subversive members of the Japanese American community?


Fukasawa

Well, naturally the first-generation Japanese were suspicious of anyone connected with activities of this kind. They had a name for us; they called us inu, which means dog. However, when they found out that because of my activities, there were fewer aliens picked up in that locality than any other place in southern California, why, they realized that I was a bigger help to them.


Hansen

Would you say that your function was more or less to ascertain the innocence of these people, rather than trying to determine information that would apprehend them?


Fukasawa

Many times the authorities were picking up people on the vaguest of suspicions, and in a very indiscriminant way. And my being in the position that I was--knowing many of these people in the area, the old-time families--was able to help by dispelling many of these suspicions that were very vague, you know.


Hansen

Who were you working closely with? Which groups did you have contact with: the FBI, Navy Intelligence, Army Intelligence or the local police?


Fukasawa

As a member of the Auxillary Police in Santa Monica, we worked with all of those agencies through the local police. I was directly called into some cases by the FBI.



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Hansen

Could you tell me how you usually passed your information along, the way in which the procedure operated?


Fukasawa

We took individual families. Generally it was in the form of meeting in the office of the chief of detectives. In these meetings, the FBI people would bring up names of families and we talked about what their activities were--professionally and socially--and whether they were connected with potentially subversive Japanese groups. One of the groups that was under the greatest suspicion was the Black Dragon Society which, of course, was a secret society.


Hansen

It had its roots in Japan, didn't it?


Fukasawa

Yes, it did. Very few people in our area, in Santa Monica, belonged to that.


Hansen

Who was the head of the group, do you recall?


Fukasawa

I don't know.


Hansen

Did you know anybody who was in the Black Dragon Society?


Fukasawa

I personally didn't know anyone.


Hansen

Did you run across anybody in Santa Monica who was, that you had to investigate?


Fukasawa

No, we didn't.


Hansen

Was it so secret that even the intelligence agencies were unable to penetrate the organization?


Fukasawa

They penetrated the organization in the Los Angeles area. And by confiscating the membership rolls, I believe, they got a hold of everyone in the southern California area that was connected with it. We were fortunate that no one in our area was. The most interest the FBI and the intelligence agencies had were in other activities. The fact that there never has been any evidence of sabotage was a pretty good testament that the people lived and minded their own business. In the Santa Monica area we had a group of people who were mainly interested in earning their living. They didn't have too many connections with any of the other groups around Los Angeles or San Pedro, which were potentially dangerous areas.


Hansen

Right after Pearl Harbor, the authorities rounded up about six hundred so-called leaders in the Japanese American community. Now there was, as you pointed out, never really a case of sabotage either in Hawaii or on the West Coast by a Japanese American. Don't you think that this


231
picking up of six hundred was a rather irresponsible act?


Fukasawa

I don't think so. I think I would call that a preventative measure. The people they picked up were all high officials in the Japanese associations, and even though they comprised all of the people with Japanese ancestry, they did do many things which connected them with patriotic organizations in Japan.


Hansen

Such as?


Fukasawa

Such as celebrating Japanese patriotic holidays for one thing, and carrying out programs of Japanese patriotism in their social programs. The type of programs they would put on periodically involved younger children who went to Japanese schools.


Hansen

Propaganda activities?


Fukasawa

That's right, propaganda-type activities.


Hansen

Some of our interviewees have indicated that Issei sometimes took the leadership, too, in raising war chest and war relief funds for Japanese soldiers during the war with China in the late 1930s. Was this also something you noted?


Fukasawa

Yes. Those types of activities were carried on by the Japanese associations. That's the reason why just about all the high officials in the Japanese associations in every community of southern California were picked up by the FBI without question. We had two or three men in our community picked up the same way--and that happened really fast, within a day or two of Pearl Harbor, I think.


Hansen

Now some of these people were ultimately exonerated and probably could have been earlier, although public opinion seemed to demand that they be retained in various places such as Missoula, Montana, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. Do you think that, in fact, they were retained for as long as they were to appease public opinion?


Fukasawa

Well, if you remember, at that time public opinion was such that they wanted everyone of Japanese ancestry off the coast, and it almost bordered on paranoia and hysteria. I remember an instance where a young Chinese fellow working in one of the markets had a large button about six inches in diameter printed that he put on his chest saying, "I am Chinese." And many people can't tell the difference between a Chinese and a Japanese, so he went out on the street with this and the first encounter he had, someone poked him in the nose and said, "That's what all you Japs say."



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Hansen

You had special connections with the authorities because of your particular job, but this certainly didn't give you any protection in the community at large. Did you yourself run up against this kind of prejudice?


Fukasawa

I didn't run up against any violent prejudices. There were a lot of subtle prejudices, but I more or less sensed where these violent type of prejudices would be, and I merely didn't subject myself to it by getting into it.


Hansen

So your method of coping with it was more or less to avoid it.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

But one thing you weren't able to avoid was the evacuation, because that did, of course, encompass the West Coast population with the exception of those who voluntarily relocated outside of the strategic defense area on the coast. Now when you saw that the evacuation was imminent--and there were pretty clear signs that it was forthcoming--did you and your family take steps to try to voluntarily relocate outside the area, or what did you do? What was your thinking on this?


Fukasawa

Well, my wife's family--she had several brothers and sisters out here--got all their household goods together and moved back towards Nebraska where they had friends and other family members farming. We could've gone with them. However, as an official of the JACL, we were helping to organize the evacuation so that the people could dispose of their property if they had to, store some of it if they had to and more or less ease the burden of these people. Also, as a member of the Santa Monica Auxillary Police I saw it was my place to stay with it until the evacuation was complete in our area. That way I had no choice but to go along with them to Manzanar in the last evacuation of our area.


Hansen

There were insinuations made by analysts at the time, and since, that the JACL perhaps made a mistake in being forthrightly cooperative with the government and with the evacuation policy. They say that what the JACL did, essentially, aside from provide assistance in the evacuation, was to affirm their commitment to America and to reiterate and reiterate that they were Americans. The English language sections of the vernacular newspapers made this point and certain JACL leaders made this point and other JACL leaders made it at the Tolan hearings, which were held in Los Angeles in February 1942. Retrospectively, what do you think about the wisdom of the policy that the JACL followed?



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Fukasawa

I think if it happened at this time, their attitude might be different. But at the time I don't think the JACL could've done anything else than what they did.


Hansen

Why was this?


Fukasawa

Public sentiment for one thing; and the fact that we were at war with Japan for another. I think the evacuation had some benefits in spite of many of the bad features.


Hansen

But you didn't know that at the time, when this policy was being shaped by the JACL. They wouldn't have known what benefits might derive from . . .


Fukasawa

No, we didn't. We didn't know that, but I know that the policies of the JACL were being shaped in the manner they were because I was in on some of the shaping of them.


Hansen

How were you in on the shaping of JACL policies?


Fukasawa

Because all the officers of many of the chapters in southern California were a part of the national effort of the JACL to formulate these policies.


Hansen

The JACL itself as an organization was in a period of internal confusion. It was still a rather young organization.


Fukasawa

That's right, it was.


Hansen

Was there a lot of division within the JACL leadership as to what policy to proceed with at this time? Do you recall?


Fukasawa

I don't believe so. As far as the implementation of the evacuation and cooperating with the government, I think everyone was quite in accord with that. We had most of our opposition from, I believe, a group who called themselves Kibei. They were educated in Japan and had American citizenship by the fact that they were born here. They were taken back to Japan when they were quite young and, of course, they were indoctrinated in Japanese propaganda and culture and so forth through their formative years over there.


Hansen

There was a Kibei chapter of the JACL in Los Angeles that pretty much divided themselves off from the regular Nisei membership. Do you recall that?


Fukasawa

Yes, I do. However, it's pretty vague in my mind right now as to what their attitudes were. I think that's one of the areas in which we did have some resistance to our policy.



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Hansen

What did the Kibei want to do?


Fukasawa

I'm not sure what they wanted to do. I don't think anyone was sure what they wanted to do. They just didn't want to go along with the policy of cooperation that the national JACL had formulated.


Hansen

Who were some Kibei leaders that acted as spokesmen for that group?


Fukasawa

Right at the moment I can't recall.


Hansen

Do you recall the general attitude of the Nisei like yourself toward the Kibei? Were you suspicious of Kibei?


Fukasawa

Well, no, I think we just took them for granted as a group that existed. I think there were more feelings that the Kibei had against the Nisei. They more or less looked down on us because they enjoyed the privileges of American citizenship, plus they were very fluent in the Japanese language. So they could wear both hats and be comfortable in both societies, whereas many of us were just Americans, period.


Hansen

Of course, it could work the other way, too, in that they could be uncomfortable in both societies. Many of the Kibei who were here at the time were ones who had left Japan in order to avoid being conscripted into the Japanese army.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

When they came here they had a serious language difficulty. Oftentimes they didn't quite get accepted by Nisei either, did they?


Fukasawa

Those that had the language difficulties weren't accepted. However, there were many that were educated through the grades in this country and had a pretty good skill in the English language before they went to Japan.


Hansen

Did Kibei because they did have this language facility which many Nisei lacked have better business opportunities than Nisei, insofar as most Japanese Americans, whether they were Nisei or Kibei-Nisei, were of necessity finding jobs solely within the subculture of Japanese Americans? Did this give them added economic possibilities?


Fukasawa

It gave them the advantage of being able to work for Japanese organizations and businesses that had a lot of contacts and associations in Japan. Even now American concerns are hiring Japanese people who have a fluency


235
in both languages.


Hansen

What about the attitude of Issei toward Kibei? Were they looked upon with a certain amount of favoritism because of their facilities in the Japanese culture and language?


Fukasawa

Naturally the Issei could communicate with the Kibei, while they had some problems with the Nisei. So, as I said, the Kibei were pretty freely accepted in both camps.


Hansen

Now I don't know if you recall this particular point of information, but in my reading I came across the fact that during this period after Pearl Harbor and before the evacuation, the JACL undertook a Kibei survey. They apparently surveyed the Kibei population and gathered information about them. This upset the Kibei since they felt that they, more or less, were being specially pointed out for suspicion and that they shouldn't have had this treatment since they, too, like the Nisei were American citizens. Do you recall a Kibei survey that was taken and the reaction to it?


Fukasawa

Now that you speak of it, I do recall a survey, but I don't remember anything of the reaction to it.


Hansen

You don't know what the philosophy might have been behind the survey?


Fukasawa

I think the philosophy mainly was to check on their attitudes and see if a number of Japanese who were American citizens by birth were potentially dangerous to the country because of their indoctrination in Japan by education.


Hansen

Do you think that the Nisei sometimes used the Kibei as a scapegoat?


Fukasawa

In what way?


Hansen

Insofar as they singled them out as being quite dangerous either to divert suspicion away from themselves or to salvage their own citizenship privileges.


Fukasawa

I don't believe so. I never heard anything along those lines at all.


Hansen

There were rumors circulated at the time about the Kibei and the activities they were involved in, such as those who were in the armed forces had burned barracks, or that other Kibei had carried out one or another kind of seditious actions.


Fukasawa

In the area where I lived, Santa Monica, there weren't


236
very many Kibei. The Kibei tended to concentrate more in the urban areas where there were more Japanese people.


Hansen

So you probably didn't know too many Kibei, did you?


Fukasawa

No, I didn't.


Hansen

Now you stayed until the last group was evacuated to Manzanar. What month was this that you left, in May?


Fukasawa

It was about the middle of April in our area. There were other groups that went later, but in the Santa Monica Bay area--Santa Monica, Venice and West Los Angeles--about the middle of April was the last group.


Hansen

What were the conditions of your evacuation? For instance, how did you get to Manzanar?


Fukasawa

We rode buses. I think there was a caravan of about a dozen large buses.


Hansen

Had you visited Manzanar prior to being evacuated?


Fukasawa

No, I hadn't. That was the first time I'd gone there.


Hansen

Some JACL personnel did visit the camp beforehand in contingencies, didn't they?


Fukasawa

Yes, they did, but I didn't go with any of these contingents.


Hansen

But you knew something about the camp prior to getting there, didn't you?


Fukasawa

Yes, we had letters from people who had gone there in the earlier segments of the evacuation. I had a brother-in-law who went there before the camp opened, within a contingent, to help build the camp. He was a carpenter and handy man so he went there in the latter part of February, I think; I'm not really sure.


Hansen

The first contingent went on March 21, 1942.


Fukasawa

That was the first contingent?


Hansen

The second one went March 23. In any case, when you got there, what was your initial impression to the physical surroundings?


Fukasawa

Well, we left about 9:00 a.m. from Venice with a line of buses and we got there about dusk. We got there right in the middle of one of those windstorms that were very common in Manzanar. The dust was blowing so hard you couldn't see more than about fifteen feet ahead. At the


237
arrival of the buses, people would come out to meet us. They had friends coming in on them. Everybody that was out there had goggles on to protect their eyes from the dust, so they looked like a bunch of monsters from another world or something. It was a very eerie feeling to get into a place under conditions like that.


Hansen

Which block did you get assigned to?


Fukasawa

We were assigned to Block 17.


Hansen

Were most of the people in Block 17 from your area?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

When you moved into your particular apartment, how many people did you have assigned to it?


Fukasawa

We had a twenty-five by twenty-five-foot apartment. This was shared by my wife and I and our two children--she had a son by a former marriage and I had a daughter by a former marriage. So the four of us, plus another family of a man and three small boys--his wife was in the hospital having their fourth child--lived there.


Hansen

So it was cramped?


Fukasawa

Yes, it was.


Hansen

I suppose, since you had just recently been married, it was a particularly bad time for you to have your privacy invaded.


Fukasawa

Yes. There's no such thing as privacy in quarters like that.


Hansen

Did you decide to get married because of the evacuation?


Fukasawa

Yes, more or less. I think we had decided beforehand to get married, but that hurried the date along.


Hansen

Because she probably would have been evacuated to another camp.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

When you arrived, how soon afterwards were you given employment?


Fukasawa

I more or less fell into the employment there. I worked in internal security.


Hansen

Right from the start?


Fukasawa

Yes.



238
Hansen

Did you have the job once you arrived, or was it arranged even prior to your arrival?


Fukasawa

Well, when I first arrived there, I spent a week or two--a period of time--where I just wanted to find out what was going on and wasn't too anxious to get involved in anything. I had been pretty actively involved in the evacuation itself in Santa Monica. I was a little weary of the whole thing. So I guess . . .


Hansen

Were you a marked man when you arrived?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't.


Hansen

In the sense that the community felt that you were an inu when you came, or not?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't. By the time we left the attitude in the community, as a whole, was such that we in the JACL had helped so much in the evacuation that people were pretty grateful for the aid that they got. For one thing, we helped in the registration of all the aliens that had to be registered. We helped by furnishing volunteer clerical help to carry out this registration in the post office. The community was helped quite a bit by that, and I'm sure they were grateful for the help they got, because otherwise the government people would've had to have done this.


Hansen

What about rumors to the effect tht the JACL bilked many of these aliens, that when they filled out some papers for them, they assessed them twenty-five to fifty dollars for the service?


Fukasawa

As far as I know, they were all entirely untrue.


Hansen

So you can, in terms of your own personal experience, put that rumor to rest?


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

It was usually rumored in association with certain people--Tokie Slocum being the foremost. Also, these rumors attached themselves to people like Fred Tayama, who was at that time the president of the Southern District JACL. Did you know Fred Tayama before the evacuation?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did.


Hansen

Did you know him quite well?



239
Fukasawa

No, I didn't, just from my association with the JACL. I became better acquainted with him in Manzanar and helped get him and his family out of camp the night of the riot. He was in the hospital and I helped to evacuate many of those whose lives were endangered, including Togo Tanaka and his family. So I spent that night helping the military authorities evacuate these people.


Hansen

I'm going to get into that episode in detail later in the interview, but I first want to ask you a couple of preliminary questions about the preceding period.


Fukasawa

Okay.


Hansen

You mentioned that you got into the internal security unit in camp. Would you explain how the evacuee police force operated in the camp?


Fukasawa

The evacuee police force had a Caucasian chief and . . .


Hansen

Who was that?


Fukasawa

At the time it was a fellow by the name of John Gilkey.


Hansen

What did you think of him?


Fukasawa

Well, I think he was a good, straight man. In working with him, I didn't see anything particularly outstanding one way or the other.


Hansen

Do you know what his background was?


Fukasawa

I did at the time, but I can't remember now. I think his background was in police work.


Hansen

You think his background was in police work?


Fukasawa

It seems to me that his background was in police work, but I can't remember what it was.


Hansen

And do you recall, perhaps, the attitude of the general internal security when you were there? And when we say internal security, we are talking about evacuee police, correct?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Do you think that Gilkey was a popular administrator?


Fukasawa

Yes, he was.



240
Hansen

Now was there a special character to the evacuee police force? Did most of the members of the force derive from a particular area, like San Pedro or Terminal Island, or maybe have a common occupational background?


Fukasawa

They tried to get people with some sort of police background, but they more or less had to settle for anyone who would volunteer for it. Mainly what they looked at was the person's background regarding his character and profession. We had to fill out application forms and fingerprint cards just like any other police department. The organization of the internal police was that they had a Caucasian chief and a Japanese chief, who was the head of the department.


Hansen

Who was he, Kiyoshi Higashi?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

He was from Terminal Island, wasn't he?


Fukasawa

Yes, Terminal Island. And then they had three lieutenants, of which I was one.


Hansen

So you were second in command on the force.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

Was Higashi formerly in police work?


Fukasawa

I don't believe he was. He was in the fishing business, if I remember correctly.


Hansen

Was he an Issei?


Fukasawa

No, he was a Nisei.


Hansen

Was he a JACL member?


Fukasawa

I believe so.


Hansen

How about the other lieutenants? Who were they? Do you recall?


Fukasawa

I don't recall their names anymore.


Hansen

Were they Nisei?


Fukasawa

Yes, they were.


Hansen

Was the entire internal security made up of Nisei?


Fukasawa

We had a few Issei in what we called a special unit,


241
which would be comparable to a detective unit. We could use people with a familiarity with the language investigating the cases involving Issei. However, practically all of the patrol people were Nisei.


Hansen

You had Kibei on the police force, too?


Fukasawa

Yes, we did.


Hansen

Now what did your job consist of? Did internal security function pretty much like a city police force?


Fukasawa

Yes, it was patterned after city police procedures. We had a platoon of officers that were assigned to patrol duty. We had special officers that we would assign to special cases requiring investigation. For anything that required professional help, we called in either the FBI or military intelligence.


Hansen

What kind of problems were you having as a police force at that time?


Fukasawa

Just about everything except for traffic.


Hansen

So you had cases of, let's say, stealing?


Fukasawa

We had cases of stealing and cases of . . .


Hansen

Rape?


Fukasawa

Yes, a few of those, too. We also had assaults. You get ten thousand people in a mile square area and many of them with a frame of mind that would be prevalant in a situation like that, why . . .


Hansen

Do you think that there was a higher relative incidence of crime in Manzanar than there perhaps had been within the Japanese American community prior to the evacuation?


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right; it was much higher.


Hansen

I've also read that there was quite a bit of youth gang activity in Manzanar. Do you recall that?


Fukasawa

I was out of there before that type of activity began. I was only there for nine months.


Hansen

Then you didn't have much gang activity while you were there?


Fukasawa

While we were there, we had one gang that gave us a little problem and that wasn't too bad. And there was a group of youths from Terminal Island. They had a chip on their


242
shoulder and they felt that they had been really ripped off--and they had, because they lost an awful lot. Their men folk were picked up by the FBI within twenty-four hours of the Pearl Harbor attack. Then they were given just a very short time to get their affairs in order and evacuate the Island. I think the Red Cross went in there and tried to save many of their belongings, but a lot of it was just looted because families had to leave them. So they were a group of people who were pretty bitter.


Hansen

There was apparently another gang from the Los Angeles area called the Dunbar Gang. Do you recall them?


Fukasawa

I don't think they were active in Manzanar at the time I was there. I think much of the gang activity and problems with the young people came after I left. I know I've heard much about that. I think there was more of that in some of the Arizona camps than there was at Manzanar.


Hansen

In American society there are several images of policemen in the public mind. One would be more or less historical in nature: the rural image of the benevolent policeman or the urban image of the friendly Irish cop. Another would be, of course, the more nefarious contemporary image of what the youth would call "pigs" or "fuzz" or whatever. Thinking back to this period, what do you feel the image of the police force was in the public mind at Manzanar?


Fukasawa

We tried to keep as low a profile as possible because we didn't want the people to get a negative image of us. Much of my work was public relations work. I was going to meetings and school assemblies and talking to them and trying to get across to the people that we were there to help and serve, rather than be the restrictive force which many people considered us to be. A lot of things that people tended to do in a place like that were outside of the customary practice and probably outside of legal limits also--that is helping themselves to lumber, some of which was scrap and some of which was not.


Hansen

Did the evacuee policemen wink at that type of violation?


Fukasawa

Well, we turned our heads on some of it, like when they were digging up scraps from scrap piles, but we had to protect government property, of course, when they started taking it away from the regular lumber piles and things like that.


Hansen

What did you do when you apprehended violators?


Fukasawa

There wasn't much we could do because we had no courts.


243
They were under the jurisdiction of the county courts of Lone Pine or Bishop--I don't remember which. So anytime criminal complaints had to be issued, why, they had to be taken care of through those courts.


Hansen

I think while you were still there they did institute a court system. I think it was sometime in the summer of 1942. But first, I think, they were, as you say, using the municipalities surrounding . . .


Fukasawa

Yes, well even though we had our own courts we were just dealing with the misdemeanor type of thing.


Hansen

You did build a jail though.


Fukasawa

Yes, we did.


Hansen

Did you have to jail people quite regularly?


Fukasawa

Not too many, although we did have an average of one or two people in the jail at all times, I guess.


Hansen

And the violations were for assorted crimes, I suspect?


Fukasawa

Mostly assault and battery.


Hansen

Such as the husband beating up the wife, or even gang activities?


Fukasawa

No, not gang activities so much as individual clashes.


Hansen

Short fuses?


Fukasawa

Yes. We did have, while I was there, a few cases of husbands beating up their wives and, I think, one murder and a double suicide. I don't remember too many of the details on that anymore.


Hansen

Was there special criminal activity among the Kibei element in the camp?


Fukasawa

Not any more than any of the other elements, I don't believe.


Hansen

So they wouldn't stand out then as a trouble-making group?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

Did you ever get catcalled or harrassed when you went around the camp by people or groups within the community?


Fukasawa

No, we didn't run into any of that type of harrassment.



244
Hansen

Did you wear a uniform?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Did you carry a firearm?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

Night stick?


Fukasawa

Night stick? No, hardly any of us carried any weapons at all.


Hansen

Were there any beatings of evacuee policemen by internees?


Fukasawa

I don't remember any. Not while I was on the force.


Hansen

One of the reports that I've read said that the administration looked somewhat disfavorably on the evacuee police force because the evacuees were unwilling to apprehend their own people, and that sometimes this unwillingness was helped along by intimidation from certain community groups. And so, the evacuee policemen tended to be very, very lax when it came to apprehensions.


Fukasawa

I think most of this came about after the riot.


Hansen

How about before the riot?


Fukasawa

I didn't see any flagrant cases of that type of thing.


Hansen

Let's talk about some of your camp activities aside from your role on the evacuee police force. In particular, I'm interested in your connection with the JACL. Now the JACL embarked on a policy of re-grouping into an organization known as the Manzanar Citizens Federation, and on July 28, 1942, they held their first meeting. I think Hiro Neeno, Togo Tanaka, Karl Yoneda and Tokie Slocum were the featured speakers. And there was a lot of opposition to the JACL at this time. Were you involved in the Manzanar Citizens Federation?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't.


Hansen

Oh, so you weren't in that organization? I would have thought with your JACL background that you would have been.


Fukasawa

I didn't get involved in that at all. I was at the meeting which you speak of mainly as an observer for the security because we did have some advance intelligence that there might be some violence--and there was.



245
Hansen

What do you mean by violence?


Fukasawa

Well, there were a group of people there at the meeting who were very, very anti-JACL, and they were a very vocal group. I think Tokie Slocum was one of the people that they had targeted for elimination. And I know that after that meeting, I walked out with him and escorted him home.


Hansen

Oh, you were the one that escorted him home?


Fukasawa

Yes, but he wasn't bothered. A lot of people made remarks and things at us but they didn't bother him that night.


Hansen

You said earlier that you got to know Tokie Slocum pretty well in camp.


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

How would you characterize him? What type of individual was he? How did he strike you?


Fukasawa

He struck me as a superpatriotic type of person. He was employed at the time of the evacuation as a city employee, I believe, in San Fernando Valley.


Hansen

He was one of the few Issei who had gained American citizenship through World War I.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

I guess he fought with Sergeant York, or so I've heard.


Fukasawa

Yes, he used to talk about that quite a bit. As I said, he was very vocal. He would get up at these meetings and was quite an orator. I think he was the type of person that would engender a lot of hatred from anyone who would be opposed to his views.


Hansen

I've talked to a number of people from the JACL who indicate that although they shared Tokie Slocum's general outlook, they radically disagreed with his style of presentation.


Fukasawa

I would go along with that.


Hansen

So you also found his style offensive?


Fukasawa

Yes, I think that was probably his main fault. He was sincere in what he said, but he had a way about him. He was a real activist.



246
Hansen

Slocum also worked on the evacuee police force while you were there, right?


Fukasawa

Yes, he did.


Hansen

I've read about rumors to the effect that he got himself a job on the night shift of the internee police force so that he could have access to certain records. Did you ever hear that?


Fukasawa

No, he wasn't on the night shift while I was there. He was one of the special officers.


Hansen

Oh, was he a special officer because he was an Issei?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

How did he happen to get on the evacuee police force in the first place?


Fukasawa

I don't remember the circumstances of how he came on the police force. I know that he was there and that he didn't have regular hours like the patrol people. He was free to come and go without punching the clock; I know that.


Hansen

Was he liked by the other evacuee policemen?


Fukasawa

I didn't associate much with him and I don't remember anyone ever expressing any likes or dislikes about him.


Hansen

Did you think he was given preferential treatment? From what you've been outlining--he didn't have to punch a time clock and he didn't have to keep any particular hours--this would appear to be the case.


Fukasawa

I think he answered primarily to the Caucasian chief. He wasn't, if I remember correctly, under our jurisdiction at all. Officially, I didn't have anything to do with him in the organization.


Hansen

Do you know whether or not he was either officially or unofficially an employee of the FBI?


Fukasawa

I really don't know. There were a lot of rumors to that effect going on at the time but, I never did find out for certain.


Hansen

Did he brag openly about such a connection?


Fukasawa

I've heard rumors to that effect, too. But I don't know; I never heard him.


Hansen

He never told you that?



247
Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

How about Fred Tayama? Was he working for the FBI while he was in camp?


Fukasawa

I don't believe he was.


Hansen

You knew Tayama pretty well in camp, too, didn't you?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Now at this meeting that we were alluding to earlier, the one on July 28, of the Manzanar Citizens Federation, you say that you escorted Tokie Slocum home. But prior to escorting him home he had a very--how should I put it--fiery exchange with Joe Kurihara, a Nisei who also had fought in World War I. Apparently these two patriots went at each other from different ends of the ideological spectrum.


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Do you recall that exchange that night when Kurihara apparently declared himself "a 100 percent Jap"?


Fukasawa

Yes, I do, now that you mention it. I'd forgotten all about that. But Joe Kurihara's contention was that being an American citizen and having proven himself in a war . . . he felt that he didn't deserve the kind of treatment he was getting. Therefore, he felt the country was discriminating against him and he didn't want anything to do with a country that would do things like this. So he was very adamantly against the United States and he couldn't see why anyone like Tokie Slocum could have any other view.


Hansen

How would you describe the way Kurihara delivered his talk that night? Was he almost in a deranged state when he was firing back and forth with Tokie Slocum; were the two of them close to physical combat?


Fukasawa

Well, no, I don't think so. I was afraid something might happen after the meeting, and that's one of the reasons I walked Tokie home. I was sure they wouldn't start any physical encounter in the meeting. But the meeting was pretty heated all the way around. Not only was there this encounter, but also there were people being shouted down. There was one group in that meeting that was just there expressly to break up the meeting.


Hansen

So as soon as somebody said something, then, they were shouted down?



248
Fukasawa

Yes, so I don't think the meeting was very productive, if I remember now.


Hansen

I'd like to discuss some of the featured speakers at the meeting, because I think you are probably familiar with all of them. Do you recall Hiro Neeno?


Fukasawa

No, I don't remember him.


Hansen

How about Togo Tanaka? I believe you mentioned him earlier?


Fukasawa

Yes, I knew Togo Tanaka real well.


Hansen

Now he was a UCLA graduate and prior to the war served as the English language editor of the Rafu Shimpo.


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Did you know him before the evacuation?


Fukasawa

Yes, I knew him when he was a freshman; this was about the time I was a junior or senior at UCLA.


Hansen

And in what connection did you know him?


Fukasawa

Well, from seeing him on campus. He had a reputation as being an extremely smart person. He was a freshman at UCLA at the age of fourteen or fifteen, I believe. He still hadn't fully grown yet, so he just looked like a grammar school kid on a college campus.


Hansen

I've heard that people referred to him as a boy genius. So he did have that reputation?


Fukasawa

Yes, he did.


Hansen

And did you know him after he got out of UCLA?


Fukasawa

Not until we met during the evacuation.


Hansen

So you didn't see him at any of the JACL meetings?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did. He was at many of the JACL meetings. I remember hearing him speak and he was very articulate. He was more or less a soft-spoken type of fellow.


Hansen

He was somewhat different than Tokie Slocum?


Fukasawa

Yes, diametrically opposite from him.


Hansen

And would you say that Togo Tanaka was looked up to by other Nisei as one of the leaders of the community?



249
Fukasawa

I think he was, yes.


Hansen

How about Fred Tayama?


Fukasawa

Fred Tayama was a high official of the JACL. I think he was president of the Southern District and he was, I'm sure, looked up to as a community leader. He made some enemies among the Kibei and the Issei with some of his stands and . . .


Hansen

In the camp?


Fukasawa

No, before he went to camp.


Hansen

Oh, before he went to camp. He and his brothers owned some restaurants; that was his occupation, right?


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

Can you recount why he made some enemies before he went to camp?


Fukasawa

I think it was in connection with the evacuation, but I don't know.


Hansen

Did you hear rumors to the effect that he was doing thus and so?


Fukasawa

Yes, I think the biggest thing was that many of the Issei, particularly, and Kibei looked to the JACL for some sort of direction during this evacuation. When the JACL came out with a policy of full compliance with anything that the government did and full cooperation in all their efforts, they felt they were let down terrifically. They thought that the JACL should carry the fight and that if they had taken different views on this thing, the evacuation might not have taken place.


Hansen

Let's see if we can resolve a paradox you seem to be communicating. Earlier you said that when you arrived at the camp as a member of the JACL, you weren't poorly received because people were indebted to the JACL for the services they provided, and now . . .


Fukasawa

Yes, that was our area, our section.


Hansen

Oh, your section, but how about in the camp at large?


Fukasawa

Within the camp at large, they didn't feel that way.


Hansen

So the JACL was a marked organization. And it didn't help your reputation a lot to have any association with the JACL, did it? I mean, given the public mind at that


250
time in camp, the association didn't help your reputation.


Fukasawa

No, probably not.


Hansen

And I think it's reasonably well-documented that the people who were most singled out for retaliatory actions--those who were either put on black lists or death lists or called inu or whatever--were very prominently associated with the JACL. Now at camp, if you had to think of those people who were principally identified in the community's mind with the JACL, would you agree that it's fair to say that that happened to the people we've been alluding to--men such as Tokie Slocum, Fred Tayama, and Togo Tanaka? Would that be a fair estimation?


Fukasawa

Yes, I believe so. There were many JACL chapters involved there in camp. And I know that a lot of the people who were officials in the JACL didn't make it public while we were in camp.


Hansen

You sort of low-profiled you own affiliation, didn't you?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did.


Hansen

And did you do this very designedly or not?


Fukasawa

No, I didn't.


Hansen

But maybe you unconsciously . . . like you said before, when you knew that trouble might be forthcoming in certain areas, your policy was to pull back from those things, and you might have been doing this again in connection with the JACL in camp.


Fukasawa

Yes, I think so.


Hansen

And then, of course, you were on the evacuee police force. It wouldn't seem like it could have been too helpful to your reputation to be both a policeman and visibly identified with the JACL.


Fukasawa

But I hadn't done anything to raise the ire of any specific people, like Tayama and some of those JACL people had.


Hansen

Well, what had they done specifically to raise the people's ire?


Fukasawa

Mainly their outspoken position on cooperating with the government.


Hansen

In other words, you didn't, for example, testify at the Tolan hearings.



251
Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

And you weren't a JACL regional official?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't.


Hansen

So you couldn't be a spokesman for a whole area.


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

I see. So your involvement was a little bit more local and contained.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

And theirs was more community-wide and public.


Fukasawa

Yes, they were right out in the front where they were very visible.


Hansen

In camp before the riot, were there occasions when you had to protect certain JACL members because they were the recipients of knifings, beatings, or attempted beatings?


Fukasawa

No, we didn't have too many problems. I think the JACL kept a very low profile in camp.


Hansen

You mean prior to the formation of the Manzanar Citizens Federation?


Fukasawa

That's right, yes. I believe that's when many of the leaders of the JACL, feeling that their prior experience would be helpful, came to the forefront, and it was after that that much of the problems arose regarding JACL people.


Hansen

Was the JACL leadership in the camp reacting to policy decisions made by the national JACL, which was then located in Salt Lake City with Mike Masaoka, the Executive Secretary, heading it up? I know that the JACL was in consultation with Washington and the WRA [War Relocation Authority] deciding on certain policy measures. Do you feel that in camp there was a response to those decisions from atop the organization?


Fukasawa

Well, the JACL in those days was working along the lines of relaxing some of the restrictions on some of the evacuees, and much of the work that they did and many of the things that they accomplished were very positive as far as the evacuees were concerned. Relaxation of restrictions about travel, getting permission to go out on work furloughs, and things of this nature were publicized in a very positive way in these camps and, of course, that


252
way the national JACL was gaining the reputation of working for the benefit of the evacuees.


Hansen

Now simultaneously with that, they were also circulating petitions to get signatures of the people who would support the opening of a second front and the formation of a voluntary Nisei combat team. Do you recall whether you signed these petitions? Do you remember them being circulated? I think that's the sort of thing that helped maybe to give the JACL its poor reputation among many internees.


Fukasawa

Yes, it did. I remember that now. Anytime that they had anything like this, it did attract negative feelings from the evacuees--especially from people interned who were being asked to participate in the war effort. They thought that it was pretty ironic.


Hansen

Did you disagree with that policy?


Fukasawa

Well, not entirely, because at the time I was there, I had a brother who was serving in the armed forces. I still felt that we would eventually be vindicated, so I went along with full support.


Hansen

Now there was another group that we haven't mentioned yet at Manzanar. This was a group that by and large shared the ideals, objectives, and strategies of the JACL, but who ideologically were much different. I'm talking about what many internees would have referred to as Aka or "Reds," the left-wing people. Some were communists, professionally dedicated ideologists, and others were situated somewhat to the right of the communist position on the political spectrum. Chiye Mori, Koji Ariyoshi, Karl Yoneda, and James Oda were people like that. Do you recall their presence or role at camp?


Fukasawa

Very vaguely; I can't recall any of their activities. I wasn't numbered among their group.


Hansen

I know there were several attempted beatings of Karl Yoneda. He was fairly prominent; he spoke at that meeting that we were talking about earlier, and he was a block leader, of Block 4. He was married to a Caucasian woman. Do you recall Yoneda being at camp?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

And do you recall the community attitude toward him?


Fukasawa

Not very much. I can't recall anything specific on that at all.



253
Hansen

So at the time you weren't really conscious of any sort of Aka group at camp then?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't.


Hansen

So it wasn't something that you dealt with.


Fukasawa

I knew that there was some type of activity like that going on, but I didn't get involved. During that last three or four months that I was there, I was pretty deeply involved in trying to get my family out of camp.


Hansen

To be relocated? So you stayed out of the political hassles?


Fukasawa

Yes, I had enough red-tape hassles of my own at the time with various law enforcement agencies--both here and back in Nebraska, where I was going--and getting references and so forth and writing letters.


Hansen

Did you ever leave camp to work on a farm? A number of policemen did, I think, didn't they?


Fukasawa

Yes, they did.


Hansen

You said earlier that you were in Block 17. Did you ever go to any of the block leaders council meetings at town hall in Manzanar?


Fukasawa

Very few.


Hansen

How did you happen to go--in what capacity?


Fukasawa

Well, maybe because I knew the people who were involved in the leadership of my block, I was a little curious to see what was going on.


Hansen

You were a visitor?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

You weren't a block leader or an assistant block leader?


Fukasawa

I didn't get actively involved in any politics there at camp at all.


Hansen

Who was your block leader?


Fukasawa

I don't even remember his name now. I can vaguely recall his face.



254
Hansen

Was he an Issei or a Nisei?


Fukasawa

He was an Issei.


Hansen

And he was from your area?


Fukasawa

Yes, he was a Santa Monica gentleman.


Hansen

And did you know him prior to evacuation?


Fukasawa

Yes, but not socially or personally. I just knew that he lived there; that's all.


Hansen

Was he a leader in that community?


Fukasawa

I think he was one of the leaders in the Japanese Association.


Hansen

And did he have the popular support of the block when you were at Manzanar?


Fukasawa

Yes, he did. I think these block leaders were elected, so they more or less had to be pretty popular people.


Hansen

And was he a competent block leader in your estimation?


Fukasawa

I think he was. They were very limited in what they could actually do, so within the limitations of what he could accomplish, I think he was very competent.


Hansen

There were a rash of block leader resignations during the time that you were at camp. For the first few months it was pretty stable, but as the political temperature started to heat up, less and less people were willing to serve as block leaders, assistant block leaders, et cetera. It was very difficult to fill the positions. Can you perhaps analyze why this might have been the case? I think perhaps you might have been having the same trouble on the police force.


Fukasawa

Naturally, in a situation like this, people feel their restrictions and they get disillusioned with some of the promises that were made. They would go along for a period when things didn't come through as they expected, but then you have a period of great dissatisfaction. You would see many activities coming along that reflected this, such as, perhaps, some of the things that you just said: block leaders resigning, increase in criminal activities, and a general result of restlessness. One of the big problems we had was to keep people occupied. When you have ten thousand people . . . many of the Nisei, of course, had employment and even though they were only being paid $11.00, $16.00, and $19.00--the


255
three classifications of wages--quite a number of the Issei felt that they worked long enough. So then a great majority didn't seek employment. They were content to sit around playing card games or some such activities as that. They tried to organize craft classes and things to keep people busy, but it was pretty hard.


Hansen

Do you think that the Issei had a grievance with respect to the fact that though they might be able to fill elected positions like block leaders, most of the positions which were appointed by the administration tended to go to Nisei? The Issei could argue that they were the natural leaders of their community prior to their evacuation, but when evacuation came along all of a sudden all of their leadership was either taken away by the FBI or put under surveillance, and when they set up the camps the Nisei, especially the JACL, moved into this leadership vacuum and arrogated a lot of the authority to themselves--aided and abetted by the administration. Do you feel that this might have been a cause for grievance on the part of the Issei; that they, more or less, had been supplanted by their children?


Fukasawa

Yes, I think many of the Issei felt that way. There was a breakdown in a number of structures, the greatest of which was the family structure. The Issei man who traditionally headed the family found that, through circumstances in the camp, he didn't have a family anymore. And I think that was the biggest blow to them. Perhaps the same thing would apply to his community activities also.


Hansen

What about those Issei who were picked up at the time of Pearl Harbor and, who then, once Manzanar was already established for a couple of months, began to enter the camp? Were they a special problem for the police insofar as they might have been a little bitter about the fact that they were picked up? Did they try to resume the leadership that they had held prior to the war?


Fukasawa

I don't recall any instances of special problems regarding those people. They seemed to come in and get assimilated into the life of the camp. They didn't bring in any great number of them at once. Probably the most that would come in at one time would be half a dozen. They would come in, one, two, or three at a time, so there wasn't any large group of people that would stand out in any way.


Hansen

There are two other instances, I think, that as an evacuee policeman you might have been aware of. One was that they had this war-related industry on the premises of


256
the camp, the camouflage net factory, and apparently there was an attempt to sabotage the work that was going on there--at least there was quite a bit of heckling of the workers at the factory. Do you recall that?


Fukasawa

Yes, there were some people that heckled them. This project was publicized very greatly as a very patriotic enterprise. It was one of the propaganda things that the War Relocation Authority used in the media to more or less foster favorable acceptance from people outside the camp. So they publicized that quite a bit. And the same element that we always had trouble with, the anti-American group, did come out and heckle the workers, but I don't remember any instances of physical sabotage.


Hansen

Who were the anti-American group?


Fukasawa

Well, they belonged to no certain group. They came generally from all groups, and the Kibei were some of them. Some of them were bitter young people from the Terminal Island community and some of them were the more articulate younger Issei. They came from the whole spectrum of the camp, but they were a group of activists.


Hansen

Karl Yoneda has written in the Los Angeles vernacular newspapers that there was a salvage crew that tore around camp in a truck. They had a banner that was draped on the truck which read Blood Brothers or Black Dragon Society and they tried to run down people like Yoneda and Tokie Slocum. One time, says Yoneda, he and Slocum were standing on the steps of one of the barracks and this truck headed toward them; if they hadn't have jumped back, they would have been killed, because the truck knocked off the stepping. Do you recall the police having trouble with a group like that?


Fukasawa

No, I don't. I know that Karl Yoneda was marked for elimination by some groups and I know that he had problems with people harassing him and all that. But I think some of these kind of stories that you hear are either fabrications or exaggerations because I didn't come across anything like this.


Hansen

Now you did know about, and I'm sure you were probably involved with the investigation of, these notices that were put all over the camp, in the mess halls, signed by the Blood Brothers of Southern California or the Black Dragon Society.


Fukasawa

We never did find out who was directly responsible. We used to find these notices, but by the time that I left, I don't recall our ever being able to pin down who was directly responsible for them.



257
Hansen

Was an attempt made to locate responsibility for them?


Fukasawa

Yes, we had people investigating this.


Hansen

You mean this group was successfully secret, so that you couldn't uncover any information? You don't know how large a group it was or how much organizational cohesiveness the group had? Do you, in fact, think it was an actual group or just one individual? What kind of organization do you think there was there in camp?


Fukasawa

I really don't remember too many specifics regarding that. I know we had problems with a group that called themselves the Blood Brothers and I remember we had investigations regarding this, but I can't remember what the outcome was. I didn't get involved in it because I wasn't part of the special investigative force.


Hansen

The special investigative force was the one that Tokie Slocum was put on, correct?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

It would have been this group, then, that handled this kind of investigation. Were they the internees' FBI, so to speak?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Let's now turn our attention to a meeting that usually stands out in the documents as being as tumultuous as the Manzanar Citizens Federation--the Kibei meeting of August 8, 1942. The Kibei apparently had this meeting largely to protest grievances, one of which was that although the Nisei generally were allowed to go out on temporary work permits--furlough work up in Idaho, topping beets et cetera--the Kibei were prohibited by directives from Washington from doing this kind of work. This restriction was later rescinded, but at the time they held the meeting it was among the assorted discriminations against Kibei. The Kibei meeting was apparently a riotous one, characterized by bitter acrimony. The meeting represented a violation of the camp policy not to have meetings conducted in the Japanese language. Ultimately, the meeting had to be disbanded by a member of the administration. Do you recall having to be at that meeting to provide security or anything?


Fukasawa

I remember mention of the meeting, but I wasn't involved in that. It apparently took place during the time that I was not on duty because I don't remember getting involved in that at all.



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Hansen

Were Kibei as a group increasingly assuming, as the camp went on, a higher and higher profile and more solidarity as a group?


Fukasawa

Yes, they were, because the Kibei, being citizens and being able to speak the Japanese language, became spokesmen for the Issei group.


Hansen

Acting as spokesmen for the Issei?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Now, would you say that as time went on, more and more Nisei started to gravitate toward the Issei position or became influenced by the Kibei?


Fukasawa

I recall that most of the Nisei who weren't actively involved tried to keep clear of any political activity. By and large, the majority of them were in a state of limbo; they were there and they didn't want to take sides because they were a little afraid of which way things were going to go. There was a lot of propaganda being put out by the Issei and the Kibei on what was going to happen if Japan was to win the war. That was one of the big topics of discussion at camp, and so many of the Nisei who weren't old enough to really form any definite philosophies were a little afraid to take any definite stands one way or the other.


Hansen

Insofar as they did something, however, without having a formulated ideology, what was it? The average age of the Nisei was about seventeen at the time, so they were roughly high school age. They didn't open the schools until September of 1942, so many of them had been there from March through the summer months when the political climate of the camp as well as the actual temperature of the camp was really starting to step up. And you've got some gang activities starting. Would you say that some of these Nisei who were aimlessly roaming around the camp became receptive to the suggestive propaganda put out by the Kibei?


Fukasawa

Yes, naturally they would have been. They were looking for something. But, those that were able to do any thinking at all didn't want to be caught on the wrong side of the fence, so they didn't know which way to jump. I guess that's the best way to put it.


Hansen

So during these months in camp you had a situation where the Issei and certainly the Kibei were becoming more Japanized, in the sense that they became more oriented and sympathetic toward Japan and believing news that they'd hear about Japanese successes and discounting news about American successes. The Nisei were, by and large, the


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group in limbo; most suspended any kind of belief or action, with the exception of maybe a handful of spokesmen, like Togo Tanaka, Fred Tayama, and Tokie Slocum and others active in organizations like the Manzanar Citizens Federation.

So really, if we can say anything about this period of the camp's history, it is that one could see strengthening of group solidarity among the Japanese American community in Manzanar, with the JACL somewhat on the outside and many of the other Nisei not taking a position one way or the other. Would it be fair to say that this is a usual situation in any kind of concentrated situation, like a prison or whatever. It's a "they" versus "us" sort of thing. "They" meaning the administration, the outside culture et cetera and "we" being the people in the camp. Would you say that this is a fair statement relevant to Manzanar or would you like to revise it?


Fukasawa

Well, about that period of time you know that the war news, as far as we were concerned, was all bad. And day after day you would hear about these Japanese successes in the Pacific.


Hansen

Who do you mean by "we?"


Fukasawa

The Americans.


Hansen

Okay.


Fukasawa

So the Kibei and the Issei would take this and make the most of it, propaganda-wise, in the camp. Of course, the sympathies of the Nisei, who are American citizens by birth and knew nothing else, were with America. The Kibei and Issei taunted the Nisei by saying, "Well, what are you going to do now when America loses the war?" The Nisei were in a pretty bad situation. And there was nothing they could do but stay quiet and keep a low profile. I don't think too many were influenced to take a sympathetic side with the Kibei or the Issei on this.


Hansen

Well, do you feel, though, that prior to the actual Manzanar Riot on December 6, 1942, there was an ominous situation in camp, that things were evolving into a state of turmoil where something was going to give eventually? You were pretty close to this situation on the police force; did you have that feeling?


Fukasawa

Yes, I did.


Hansen

What were some of the telltale signs that gave you this feeling?


Fukasawa

Mainly the increased activity of the Kibei and the anti-American


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segment of the population. They were getting very vocal and more active. Some of the Nisei who were easily influenced were beginning to gravitate in that direction mainly because of the search for some sort of direction on anything, as opposed to the activities of loyal citizens who were trying to forestall any explosive confrontations.


Hansen

And many of these people were now starting to get resettled elsewhere or going out on work leaves, weren't they?


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

So what support there was for this group was starting to dissipate as a result of their removal from the camp for one reason or another.


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Aside from this situation, what other ominous signs were appearing? Did you have an increase, say, in criminal activity or beatings or threats or things of this nature?


Fukasawa

Yes, we did. We did have an increase in what you were earlier calling gang activity by the younger people, as well as beatings.


Hansen

Did you get your heads together and try to figure out what to do about this, or did you consult the administration? When you spotted this kind of problem just over the horizon, what kind of preventive measures were taken? Or did you just pray for the best?


Fukasawa

Well, there wasn't an awful lot we could do. I think the administration did the wrong thing in tightening up restrictions and things like this. I can't recount anything specific but anytime anything happened, the first reaction of the administration was to be more restrictive. And these type of things just increased resistance from the people we were dealing with.


Hansen

So the administration reacted punitively toward any sort of departure from the norm.


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

Did you know any administrators in the camp?


Fukasawa

Well, yes, I did. But I can't recall a single name now.


Hansen

I can give you some names. Would you know, for instance,


261
the directors of the camp? The first one was a man by the name of Clayton Triggs and he was succeeded by a fellow by the name of Roy Nash when the WRA took over the camp administration.


Fukasawa

Yes, I got to know Nash pretty well.


Hansen

What did you think of Nash?


Fukasawa

Well, I think Nash meant well and I think he tried to be a good administrator, but I think his hands were tied.


Hansen

By whom?


Fukasawa

By his superiors.


Hansen

In what, the WRA?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

What did he try to do that was good.


Fukasawa

I think he was pretty liberal. I think he was . . . let's see, who was the man that followed him?


Hansen

Well, he was eventually followed by Ralph Merritt, but there were two acting project directors, Harvey Coverley and Sol Kimball.


Fukasawa

Okay, Nash is the one I think I remember. I believe he was a man that was instrumental in relaxing some of the boundary restriction for one thing. And, of course, he got censored by his superiors.


Hansen

I think the population of the surrounding communities put a lot of pressure on the WRA.


Fukasawa

Yes, I believe so.


Hansen

But it probably didn't make him too popular after promising something and then having to retract his promise.


Fukasawa

No, it didn't.


Hansen

Can you recall anything else about Roy Nash?


Fukasawa

Not very much, except that he was pretty popular with the internees. He tried to get in and get acquainted with as many as he could. He had some good attitudes, except as I said, his hands were tied. And, so, he had his problems, too.


Hansen

Do you recall the fellow who perhaps stood out in the minds


262
of the internees as an administrator, the assistant project director under Roy Nash--and later, for a while, under Ralph Merritt-Ned Campbell? Campbell was a rather tall fellow who was accused by some internees of stealing sugar along with the camp's chief steward, Joe Winchester, and selling this sugar on the black market outside of the camp. Do you recall that rumor and the person, Ned Campbell, associated with the rumor?


Fukasawa

I recall such rumors, although I don't remember now who was involved in it. I don't know whether the rumors have ever been substantiated or not. A lot of rumors were going on in that place. It was a real rumor mill.


Hansen

Did you ever uncover anything about administrators helping themselves to internee supplies and whisking them off the premises?


Fukasawa

I don't remember any cases like that being proven.


Hansen

As far as Ned Campbell goes, you can't recall him at all?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

So he wasn't somebody that seemed visible to you?


Fukasawa

He didn't stand out in my memory at all.


Hansen

Do you recall Robert L. Brown, who was the reports officer while you were there?


Fukasawa

Yes, I got acquainted with Mr. Brown pretty well.


Hansen

How did you meet Brown?


Fukasawa

I think Brown was reports officer when I got there. I don't remember the circumstances of us meeting, but he and I got pretty well acquainted and I worked with him in sort of an unofficial capacity just before I got into internal security. He was attempting to get clearance for me to be his photographer in the camp.


Hansen

What, for the camp newspaper, the Manzanar Free Press?


Fukasawa

Yes, he was handling that, and also for other purposes he had in mind. So in that respect, I got to know him pretty well.


Hansen

And what did you think of Brown?


Fukasawa

I didn't know him well enough to really have any opinions about him. I wasn't strongly opinionated about him; he


263
was just a man doing his job as far as I was concerned.


Hansen

As far as a gut response to him, did you like him or dislike him?


Fukasawa

I liked him.


Hansen

Did he seem like he was a man of liberal and humane persuasions?


Fukasawa

I don't believe he was there long enough for me to make any such assessment of him. If I remember correctly, he wasn't there very long.


Hansen

As a matter of fact, he actually stayed much longer than you did in the camp.


Fukasawa

Did he?


Hansen

Yes, he stayed for a couple of years.


Fukasawa

Then after I got into security work, why, we just didn't get involved in anything after that.


Hansen

What administrator did you have something to do with, just the head of internal security, John Gilkey?


Fukasawa

Yes, as I told you, I didn't get into any involvement as far as camp politics were concerned. So I really didn't have any occasion to get in to meet too many of the administrators.


Hansen

Did Gilkey stay with the job as head of the internal security at Manzanar during your whole tenure at camp?


Fukasawa

Well, Mr. Gilkey was the head of security for the WRA. However, when we first went there the camp was under the jurisdiction of another agency of the government called the . . .


Hansen

The WCCA [Wartime Civil Control Administration].


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right. The man who was responsible for the security at that time was a fellow by the name of Smith. He was the first man I worked under. Then Mr. Gilkey took his place and he was there beyond the time I was there. He was still there when I left, so I don't know how much longer he was there.


Hansen

From the viewpoint of an employee, who do you think did the better job as head of internal security?


Fukasawa

I think Mr. Gilkey did a far better job. I think he was more of a professional policeman than Smith was.



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Hansen

I want to get into the riot that we alluded to earlier. Apparently the setting for the situation was that on the evening of December 5, 1942, Fred Tayama, whom we talked about earlier, was administered a beating by a group of five or six internees; the number of people was never clearly determined. Fred Tayama had just returned from a JACL meeting in Salt Lake City. Apparently some people were upset because they had heard that Tayama went to the meeting under the aegis of Manzanar's representative. This made him unpopular to start with because very few people would have elected him as a representative from Manzanar. In Salt Lake City he had taken part in some decisions dealing with beginning a voluntary combat team of Nisei and affirming a policy of opening up a second front in the war. On his return, though, Tayama was beaten by some masked men. On the very next day, Harry Ueno, who was the head of the Kitchen Workers Union at Manzanar, was arrested and imprisoned outside of the camp--the first internee to be jailed other than in the camp jail. At this point, internee meetings were called and there were gatherings in which they demanded the administration to return Harry Ueno to the camp. Ueno was thereupon returned and placed in the Manzanar jail and many of the people thought that this wasn't sufficient, that he should be released. Then they staged another mass meeting; this time things got somewhat out of control and one group in the meeting broke up and headed for the jail to release Ueno, while other sections went off in search of certain JACL leaders like Tokie Slocum and Togo Tanaka, and still another group went to the Manzanar hospital bent upon finishing the job that had been done the night before on Fred Tayama. But Fred Tayama was hiding under a hospital bed and they couldn't get at him. All the various groups went to the camp jail and there the so-called riot ensued. Now with this background in mind, and from your perspective as an internee policeman at the time, what do you recall of these events?


Fukasawa

Well, my shift was due to work at midnight at that time. And I was cognizant of all these things happening but . . .


Hansen

Are you talking about the night that Tayama was beaten up or the night of the riot?


Fukasawa

The night of the riot.


Hansen

What about the night that Tayama was beaten?


Fukasawa

Well, Tayama was beaten up and he was in the hospital and there were various activities. It didn't involve a big number of people.


Hansen

Did you go to get Tayama when he was beaten up, or were you


265
involved in anything?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't involved in any of that. My involvement came at midnight, the night of the riot. So this riot actually took place while I was still asleep in my apartment. In the afternoon the people were beginning to gather there at the jail, at the police department. I was there then and they called the military, so they had a platoon of soldiers guarding the jail and things seemed to be pretty much under control. So I left, went home, and went to bed, because I had to go back to work at midnight.


Hansen

You remember the mass meeting that they held that afternoon in the camp around Block 22?


Fukasawa

I know that they had mass meetings, but I didn't attend any of them.


Hansen

So you didn't see the size of the crowd?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

You didn't have any idea how many people were involved?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

So you thought things were under control and went to bed?


Fukasawa

Yes, it was a pretty sizable crowd out there by the police station, but they had a whole line of soldiers out in front of them. I didn't think anybody was going to be fool enough to go against machine guns and automatic rifles; however, it seems like sometime in the evening they did rush across the imaginary line that soldiers had drawn there. And, of course, the soldiers opened fire. A number of people were wounded and I believe one or two died. And when I went to report at midnight, out of a whole platoon of patrolmen none of them showed up, not a single one. The military was still there so . . .


Hansen

Did anybody tell you not to show up?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

So you weren't visited by any delegation of internees to tell you that you had better not show up?


Fukasawa

No, I wasn't.


Hansen

Some of the internee policemen were, weren't they?


Fukasawa

I imagine they were because none of them did come to work. So the captain asked me at the time, "Are you willing to


266
stay in and see this thing through?" And I said, "Sure, I don't see any of my officers here, but I guess I'll help you all I can." He said the first thing to do was to evacuate certain individuals out of camp that were in danger. Some of them were beaten up--Tayama being one of them. So these were people we had to get out of there. They included Togo Tanaka and his family, Fred Tayama and his family, and Tokie Slocum and his family. So I went to the hospital with a half a dozen military policemen looking for Tayama and these people up there couldn't figure out what side of the fence I was on. Anyway, they were afraid to tell me anything. Finally, I got the hospital administrator to cooperate and we located Tayama. He was under a bed with covers pulled down over the side and it took a lot of coaxing to get him out of there. We took him under guard and we removed him from camp--he wasn't injured to the point where we couldn't move him. We went to Tokie Slocum's apartment to get him out and there was no one there, but his apartment was in a shambles. They got in there and messed up the place real good. Slocum's wife went to a neighbor's and Slocum himself got out to the periphery of the camp and sneaked down to the police station and the military took him out. Togo Tanaka, I guess, did the same thing. But we got Togo's files and his wife. I don't remember if there was a child involved or not.


Hansen

What do you mean by Tanaka's files?


Fukasawa

He had a cabinet file that we thought we'd better . . .


Hansen

He was a documentary historian. I guess you took his stuff out.


Fukasawa

Yes. We removed his files and there were three or four other prominent JACL officers that we took out of camp that night.


Hansen

Who were they?


Fukasawa

I don't recall names anymore. We completed this job about four or five o'clock in the morning. The captain said that I'd better go and get my family and take them out of camp, too, because I had been seen around too much and they probably marked me for some type of retaliation. So I woke my wife and kids up about four-thirty or five o'clock that morning and hastily packed up some belongings and took them out of camp. So that's how we got out of Manzanar.


Hansen

So you went with the party that was removed to Death Valley?


Fukasawa

No, I didn't. We got permission to go straight out to Nebraska.



267
Hansen

How many days did you stay around Manzanar after the riot? I know that the party that went to Death Valley during the night time slept in the administration quarters around desks and things like that, and then during the day went over . . .


Fukasawa

To the military police camp.


Hansen

Yes, in the camp right next door. Did you do the same thing?


Fukasawa

Yes, we did. So we were there for about a week, I guess, until we got final clearance to move out to Nebraska where my wife's brothers were.


Hansen

What went on during the nights there, with all these JACL leaders over there? What was the general feeling? Were people visibly shaken by the whole thing?


Fukasawa

Yes, of course, they were. People had been killed and wounded and the whole place was just torn apart.


Hansen

Do you recall hearing the kitchen gongs going all night?


Fukasawa

No, I don't.


Hansen

Did you have patrols circling around the camp from the MPs?


Fukasawa

Yes, the MP patrols were circling around the camp. But, you see, I slept through all the real excitement and when I went on duty, why, everything was pretty quiet.


Hansen

Do you think most of the people in the camp--not the people who were with you--were of the frame of mind that Fred Tayama had this beating coming to him and that it was a good thing to get the JACLers out of camp?


Fukasawa

Well, I wasn't there enough after that. See, my official duties with the camp terminated at that time. So I wasn't able to get back into camp anymore to determine any feelings, but I think the camp was in a situation of being stunned more than anything.


Hansen

Why do you think so many people supported Harry Ueno? Do you think it was because he was a popular figure or do you think it was because he was a symbol of the solidarity of their group, as opposed to Tayama who they regarded as divisive to their unity? Did you know Harry Ueno?


Fukasawa

No, I didn't know him, so I just can't answer that question.


Hansen

What about the crowd? Did you think this was a case of not


268
only Ueno versus Tayama, but a case of "This is all we're going to stand from the inu crowd around here?" I know the rumors, as you point out, were proliferating like mad.


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

Rumors about inu activity were starting to be circulated widely. Do you feel the riot was something of a catharsis for people there, that these rumors had enough belief invested in them that the internees felt that something had to be done to rid the camp of all its informers and turncoats, or whatever you want to call them?


Fukasawa

Well, things were just simmering and boiling to the point where pressure just had to be released, and the riot was one of the means of releasing it. They took this action as a means of releasing all their tensions, and I don't think that they thought that it could go to the point that it did. I don't think that they thought that the military people would shoot anybody.


Hansen

What do you deduce from the fact that none of the internee policemen were willing to take part in this whole episode? The military had to take it entirely in their own hands. Gilkey was beside himself because there were only two or three internee policemen who showed up that night. What do you think accounted for that? Do you think the internee policemen supported the community's action on this or do you think that they were intimidated into not showing up?


Fukasawa

I think that they were intimidated. The scope of what happened made them feel that they were in the minority and they just didn't think they could do an effective job after the riot.


Hansen

After you left camp, the administrators at Manzanar apparently reorganized the whole internal security program and greatly augmented the Caucasian personnel in the police and relegated the evacuee police force to the background.


Fukasawa

That's what I understand, yes. I got a letter from Mr. Gilkey afterwards regarding the situation. He gave a pretty good run down of what had happened and how things were.


Hansen

Do you still have the letter?


Fukasawa

No, I don't, but I wish I did. One of the things he did was to send me my badge. And I still have that, I think, among some of my belongings.


Hansen

So you were one of the few evacuee policemen on duty the night of the riot?



269
Fukasawa

I was the only one from midnight on.


Hansen

Now, Kiyoshi Higashi, the evacuee chief, apparently didn't have to leave the camp although he was a quite prominent JACL leader. From what I understand, he had a group of Terminal Islanders who because they had such solidarity among themselves guaranteed his safety. So he never did have to leave the camp. Do you recall Higashi's position?


Fukasawa

No, I don't. I know his position would be such as you explained, but I didn't know that that had happened.


Hansen

Was he around that night? Did you see Mr. Higashi?


Fukasawa

No, I didn't.


Hansen

He didn't show either.


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

Oh, I see. So you were the only one.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

The other two lieutenants didn't show either?


Fukasawa

No.


Hansen

So you were a police force of one.


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

So that's probably why they had to get you out of camp. And it was just as well as far as you were concerned because you were headed off to Nebraska, right?


Fukasawa

Yes, I was negotiating to get out of there at the time anyway. Well, I had been for several months and was running into many obstacles, but this just opened the way. I couldn't get back into camp anymore, so I either had to go to Death Valley with the rest of them or go out to where I had some family and they knew I had a place to go. So I think the WRA people put some pressure on some of these law enforcement people in the area where we were going, and that was one of the things that was difficult to get even though I had all kinds of references and letters of recommendation and so forth; it was a matter of politics to most of these people.


Hansen

I was wondering about not just your removal after the riot from the camp itself, when you left in the early morning, but of the subsequent days. Do you subscribe to the Rafu Shimpo?



270
Fukasawa

No, I don't.


Hansen

Well, last summer there was a series of articles under the title of "Point of No Return." It was written by Tad Uyeno, who used to write a column in the Rafu Shimpo prior to the war called the "Lancer." Tad Uyeno was describing the situation both during the days while you were at the military police barracks and at nights when you were sleeping in the aisle of the administrative offices. He said that among the people that were there, Tokie Slocum was even discriminated against by the other people that were taken out; they, more or less, kept him at arm's length. Eventually he didn't even go to Death Valley. He ended up going to New Mexico or someplace else. Do you recall this diffidence toward Slocum?


Fukasawa

There was because, as I said, he was very much an activist and a lot of people didn't approve of his methods of putting across his philosophies. He was the type of man that you would, more or less, associate with the kind of activist that you run into today.


Hansen

Could you tell us how long you were in Nebraska? Was it until the end of the war or longer than that?


Fukasawa

Well, yes, I was. I was a photographer with my business in Santa Monica. When we were evacuated I had all my equipment stored with a neighbor whom I knew real well. When we were back in Nebraska, I went into the farming business with my brothers-in-law because that was the only thing that was open. So when I found a location to go back into the photographic business again, I sent for my equipment and this friend of mine shipped it back out. After two years in farming I was back in the photographic business and we were there until 1954.


Hansen

In Nebraska?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

And then you came out here?


Fukasawa

Yes.


Hansen

And you've been out in southern California since?


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

What's your present appointment?


Fukasawa

I'm teaching photography here at California State University, Fullerton.



271
Hansen

And you have some children?


Fukasawa

Yes, they're all grown. We have five children.


Hansen

And they're college or past college age?


Fukasawa

Well, I have one in college and three are through. Our youngest is still living with us, but he's twenty-two and he's working full time.


Hansen

As you look back upon the internment experience, do you view it as a symbol of your diminished respect for the professed ideals of America? Or do you just look back upon it as an episode in your life that came about because of public confusion, governmental bumbling, or just wartime hysteria. Or do you consider it an example of racism in American society?


Fukasawa

Well, I don't think you can designate it to any one reason. I think the biggest contributor to this was economic . . . I believe the racist aspect also came through some of the superpatriotic organizations such as the Sons and Daughters of the Golden West. And then, I think, blame can partly be put on the Japanese Americans themselves because they kept so aloof that the general public didn't know them any better.


Hansen

Do you think they had a choice?


Fukasawa

I think they did. I think they could've been more active in a lot of ways.


Hansen

A year ago in the spring of 1973, I attended the dedication of the plaque which was placed at Manzanar on the site of the old camp by joint action of the Manzanar Committee and the JACL. The wording that appeared on the plaque sparked some controversy. The most controversial portion involved the use of the term "concentration camp" to describe Manzanar. Some groups felt it should have been called a "relocation center," its official title. The other key words that were editorialized on the plaque declared that Manzanar and the other camps for Japanese Americans were caused by a combination of hysteria, racism, and economic exploitation. Do you essentially find yourself in agreement, disagreement, or qualified agreement with that?


Fukasawa

Well, I would say qualified agreement. I think the causes are pretty well set down there. I think the fact that they're trying to call it a concentration camp is to further the efforts for civil liberties in this country so that something like this won't happen again. It's trying to bring this to the public attention. Personally, I would have rather seen it called a relocation camp.



272
Hansen

Do you think it's inaccurate to call it a concentration camp, in light of the fact that there was barbed wire around the camp and there were guard towers? If you would've tried to simply gotten up and left you could have been, as some internees in other camps were, shot by guards?


Fukasawa

Well, I think when you speak of concentration camps it brings to mind the type of thing that they had in Europe during the war, where people were put in some pretty dire circumstances and where nothing or very little was done for their well being. Whereas in this relocation center, very much was done toward self-government, recreation, and education. They tried to make this as much of an American community as circumstances would allow.


Hansen

Are you entirely happy with the term relocation center, or would you prefer something like internment camp?


Fukasawa

Well, I think I would call it a relocation center because, actually, that is what happened. Through the centers the internees were spread all over the country and I think that was one of the benefits that came from this. People were taken out of the concentrations of the Japanese "Little Tokyos" in the coastal regions and were able to get settled in such places as the East Coast. There are now concentrations of Japanese Americans in New Jersey, through the Middle West. It's too bad that a lot of them, including myself, didn't take advantage of the chance and remain in these areas of the country.


Hansen

Of those relocated, I think 50 percent returned.


Fukasawa

Yes, that's right.


Hansen

Do you have any further comments that you would like to add?


Fukasawa

No, the evacuation experience is so far removed from happenings, that it's pretty hard to recall at present. Like I said, the Nisei were really reluctant to think about these things and didn't document it very well like the third generation, like my children, who are really bringing it up now.


Hansen

Why do you think they're bringing it up?


Fukasawa

Well, I think it's mostly their awareness of history, social conditions, civil liberties and so forth. So they're going back into history and gaining consciousness of things like the evacuation.


Hansen

Do you think ethnic consciousness plays a part in it?



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Fukasawa

Yes, I'm sure it does.


Hansen

Do you think that some Nisei, like most second-generation ethnic groups in this country, tended to overemphasize American values, ideals and institutions to the total neglect sometimes of their ancestry, their cultural inheritance?


Fukasawa

Well, there are several ways to look at this. I think as long as we're in America I think it behooves us to be as good Americans as we can. However, there is good in every culture and I think it's good to try to retain some of it for culture's sake.


Hansen

So you wouldn't endorse flagrant cultural nationalism, but you do feel that cultural appreciation is important?


Fukasawa

That's right.


Hansen

Mr. Fukasawa, I'd like to thank you very kindly on behalf of the Japanese American Oral History Project at California State University, Fullerton. I enjoyed very much the interview and I think that you have contributed considerably to a greater understanding of this particular dimension of the American past.


Fukasawa

Well, you're perfectly welcome. I'm really sorry, however, that I couldn't contribute more firsthand information--which I probably would have been able to contribute a few years back.



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Index

About this text
Courtesy of Meckler
http://content.cdlib.org/view?docId=ft18700334&brand=oac4
Title: Japanese American WW II Evacuation - Part I: Internees
Date: 1991
Contributing Institution: Meckler
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