My Story
My parents emigrated from Kochi, Japan to Los Angeles, California in the early 1900‟s.
My parents didn‟t talk about very much about their beginnings and I have learned more
about them after their passing. I do know that my parents were both educators in Japan.
My father was a principal in a high school for boys and my mother was a math teacher
(algebra and geometry) in a school for girls. My father was a pacifist and believed in the
non-violence of Mahatma Gandhi. I remember as a child how he tried to learn at least
one new word in English every day and would make up a sentence when talking to me.
They were Christians and helped found the Japanese Christian Church in Los Angeles. I
have been told that my mother was a woman before her time because she learned how to
drive a car and a truck, wore pants (unheard of), and worked everyday of her life.
My first childhood memories take me back to Brentwood Heights (now known as
exclusive Brentwood) where we lived in a large home. There were five children. I had
two sisters and a brother older than me and one brother younger than me. Both my
mother and father learned the retail/wholesale flower business. My mother had a shop on
Wilshire Blvd and my father grew flowers for the wholesale flower market. I had just
“Graduated” from kindergarten when we had to move. The neighborhood was
“restricted” and all Jews and Asians living in Brentwood Heights had to move. We were
the only family of Japanese descent living there and moved to a small home in Sawtelle.
It is important to understand how things were in the 1930‟s. My parents were not
allowed to apply for citizenship. This came much later and my mother in fact was one of
the first to be granted citizenship. My parents were also not allowed to buy real property.
It was against the Alien Land Law Act and that also changed. My recollection as a child
was that there were places we could not go to (hotels and places to eat). In fact as a girl
scout my troop was banned admittance to swimming pools and other places because of
my membership. I dropped out because I didn‟t feel it was fair to the others.
I describe myself as a victim of the “Great Depression”. My older brother and sisters all
had music lessons, dancing lessons, attended Japanese Language School. Along came
the depression and my opportunity to do these things were gone. My parents weathered
the depression and had just started to get back on their feet when Pearl Harbor was
bombed. That was such a frightening day. I remember my parents made all of us go to
school the next day. I grew up in an Anglo neighborhood and wasn‟t sure how I would
be treated. By this time I was a sophomore in high school. My friends were still my
friends.
Then President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 and it was plastered on telephone
poles, buildings, etc. It was an order evacuating anyone of Japanese descent to assembly
centers or relocation camps. Assembly Centers were established at various racetracks
(Tanforan, Santa Rita etc) and families were moved to live in the horse stalls. My family
was given 48-hour notice in March 1942 to assemble for a move to Manzanar, California.
We were allowed to take one suitcase each, nothing else. So all of our household items,
cars, trucks, business equipment had to be sold or given away.
I remember my friends came as we boarded the buses to say „goodbye‟ and how we cried
at what was taking place. Manzanar was located in the desert just a few miles from Lone
Pine on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada range. We were greeted with soldiers in
uniform and guns. Assigned living quarters. These were tar-papered barracks lined up
one after another. We lived in Block 19 and it consisted of one room with seven cots
filled with straw. We ate in a mess-hall lining up for our meals. Bathroom facilities were
in the middle of the block. One side for males and the other side for females. There was
a hospital, an orphanage (where my mother worked for $17.00 month), and schools. I
spent my junior year in the camp. I remember most the dust storms. The wind would
come up and sand so thick you couldn‟t see your hand in front of you. The sand would
seep into the barracks and constantly sweeping the sand away. We were not allowed to
leave the relocation center (as they were called). There were sentries with guns at the
outlooks with search lights.
My adjustment was difficult because I didn‟t know anyone in the camp. I had to make
new friends. Unfortunately, my parents in their effort to “Americanize” their children
hadn‟t taught me what it is like to be Japanese. That may sound strange but to be now
living in a totally 100% Japanese community was different for me.
I believe there were about 10,000 residents at each of the 10 (?) camps. Depending on
where a family was geographically located in California, the government moved to a
specific location. Northern California people went to Tule Lake, CA. Central CA people
went to Rower or Jerome, Arkansas and then moved to two different camps in Gila or
Poston, Arizona. Others were moved to a camp in Wyoming. Can‟t really recall all of
them but have met people who lived in the other camps and conditions were all very
much the same. (The U.S. Department of Interior published an excellent booklet on each
of the camps. I tried to get a copy but no longer in publication. Probably available in a
public library or perhaps on-line).
My oldest sister was the first to leave Manzanar. She was a student at UCLA when we
were evacuated. She found a sponsor in Des Moines, Iowa. A Quaker family took her in
and she graduated from Drake University. My other sister also went to Des Moines to
attend school. My older brother volunteered for the Army and became part of the 442nd
Battalion who fought in Italy and France. Japanese were 4-F draft status but when
recruiters came to the camps many, many males volunteered their service. My dad was
able to find a sponsor in Illinois. The Spandikow family owned a rose growing nursery
in Melrose Park, Illinois. He left the camp and my mother and younger brother stayed to
finish the school year. We then joined my father in Illinois. I feel fortunate that I only
had to spend a year there. Most families stayed the entire duration and migrated back to
California to start their lives all over again.
I am going to be 83 years old this year. I did give some talks on my experience in the
camp to Lions Club in Franklin Park, when I was a senior in high school. I shared the
experience in a college class since none were aware of this time in history. I also did so
with the U.S. Navy during an Asian Heritage Week program. But none of us really talk
much about this time in our lives. Certainly we were not the threat (saboteurs and such)
the government suspected us to be. We did have to go through stringent FBI clearances
before we were able to leave the camp.
Certainly this experience had an influence in my career. I still work doing investigations
of Equal Employment Opportunity Complaints for the Federal government that prohibits
discrimination. Did this for 37 years before I retired. All in all life has been good and
don‟t like to dwell on the negative things that have happened.