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JAMsj In the News
"'If Suitcases (of Internees) Could Talk,'" Some Have in San Jose, by Harry K. Honda, Pacific Citizen, August 15-September 4, 2003 WHEN I FIRST read the account for the Japanese American Museum of San Jose's new exhibit, "1942: Luggage from Home to Camp," in the San Jose Mercury News that opened July 1 and runs through June 2004, I knew it was to be seen. This exhibit of six suitcases rests in the re-created single apartment of a Tule Lake interment camp, trimmed by master builder Jimi Yamaichi at 535 N. 5th St. As creator of this exhibit, Floy Oy Wong, a nationally known artist, interviewed six Nisei who still had the suitcases they carried to camp and related their experiences. She was deeply moved by their stories. As they talked and remembered, she realized that it was "their dignity and their human spirit (that had) triumphed above all." Museum president Joseph Y. Yasutake pays tribute to these six articulate Nisei, who come from various backgrounds and help provide another facet of the Evacuation. The Army had ordered 110,000 Japanese (alien and citizen) on the West Coast in the spring of 1942 to pack only what they could carry - bedding and linens (no mattress), toiletries, extra clothing, essential personal effects (no pets of any kind) - to be securely packed, tied and numbered at the Civil Control Station, the embodiment of E.O. 9066. The suitcase, thus, becomes a unique part of the Japanese American internment experience.
It was incredible that Eiichi Sakauye, 91, venerable voice of San Jose, had packed along current issues (February and March, 1942) of Popular Mechanics to keep up with the latest information on things mechanical in his suitcase now on exhibit. Sakauye was 30 years when he left for Santa Anita Assembly Center on May 30, 1942. He also packed a little pocketknife because he liked to whittle. At Heart Mountain, he was able to purchase a camera and photo equipment. "Taking camp photos became my passion," he told Wong. "I snapped images of camp life .... I wish I could have taken more before I returned home on January 2, 1945." Lola Tanaka Abe, 78, now of Los Gatos, packed her violin (on display in her suitcase) when she left San Luis Obispo. She found comfort with music, "often accompanied by the drone of the cooler" at Poston III. Her family had initially moved inland to Cutler (Tulare County), hoping to avoid going to an internment camp. That August, the government ordered them to relocate to Arizona. "Music - like the photos - took my mind off of being in camp." David M. Sakai, 85, a native son of San Juan Bautista, was a senior at San Jose State and assisted Issei during the Evacuation registration process at the neb's gym. With six days to get ready for Santa Anita, he took two suitcases - a leather one he bought in Salinas and the other one woven in Japan. The diaries, playing cards, letters, pens and photo albums were packed into the Japanese carry-on. Esau Shimizu, 87, had packed some Zane Grey novels and a little radio with his clothing in canvas bags that met the needs of his younger brothers, Carl, Roy and Grant. Shimizu had just married his wife, Kay, in March 1942. Before being evacuated from San Jose to Santa Anita, he and his brothers, who were in the berry basket business, stored the heavy machinery in the back and packed their household goods at company headquarters. Shimizu assisted Bill Freedman, an industrial designer from New York who was sent to Heart Mountain to use Japanese labor to design and build modern furniture out of wood veneer. "I was right for the job" because he also used wood veneer to make berry baskets. Misao Yamano Shiotsuka, 84, of Gilroy had purchased two suitcases, one for her wedding outfit - for she was going to marry her future husband, Sam, then training at Camp Shelby. Both families, now at Poston, were against her trip alone to Mississippi. Instead they sent him a message: "Your mother is ill." When Sam arrived, he was relieved she wasn't sick and they were married at the Poston Buddhist Temple in March 1943. The blue wool suit she ordered from the May Company in Los Angeles and the bouquet of paper flowers that were packed in the suitcase for many years were eventually disposed of; the suit was moth-eaten, the bouquet smothered with dust. Elsie Mayeda Honda, then 17, was living 10 miles away from the highly sensitive Standard Oil refinery and the Richmond shipyards. Her parents were "pre-evacuated" to Berkeley, where they began to pack for camp. What looked like a GI-issue Army footlocker to me, the cheap cardboard suitcase included the New Testament and a blue cotton dress that her sister, Maria, had designed and sewed. "At the time, I didn't realize that I would wear this very same blue dress to church in Tanforan where I would meet my future husband, Henry."
Sixty-one years ago, the cry was "only what we could carry" in suitcases. Since 9/11, everyone who travels by air with a suitcase is flabbergasted (pardon my slang) by the current edict: "Only carry what we say you can" or words to that effect.
"After six decades, the luggage that Japanese Americans carried with them to internment camps at the start of World War II has become a reminder of those days of infamy," by Annie Nakao, SF Chronicle, August 16, 2003 The day they came for him and every other Japanese person in San Jose, Eiichi Edward Sakauye had his yellow suitcase packed. "I had a toothbrush, a first aid kit, bedding, my PJs, regular clothes -- I brought a suit, too, just in case -- some Reader's Digest and Popular Mechanics magazines . . . and my pocketknife," he said. "The blade was less than 3 inches long. I don't think the officer inspecting our bags was supposed to let me keep it. But I told him I had been a Boy Scout and Boy Scouts are always prepared. I think that's why he gave it back to me." Sakauye is 91 years old now. His once-muscular farmer's arms are thin and papery, and deep wrinkles course across his forehead like worn grooves. But he has never forgotten that small kindness in the midst of a world turned upside down after the Dec. 7, 1941, bombing of Pearl Harbor by Japan. In a few months, President Franklin Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, which authorized the removal of 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry, two-thirds of them American citizens like Sakauye, from their homes, businesses and farms up and down the West Coast. "No one told us what would happen or where we were going," said Sakauye. Sixty-one years have passed, years that have brought a presidential apology and $1.2 billion in redress for those who were incarcerated in concentration camps, guarded by watchtowers and surrounded by barbed wire. Yet stories of what they experienced in camp -- probably the single most defining experience for Japanese Americans as a community -- are still emerging. "1942: Luggage From Home to Camp," a yearlong exhibition at the Japanese American Museum of San Jose, is another chapter in this storytelling. Using actual luggage taken to camp in 1942, Oakland artist Flo Oy Wong's multimedia exhibition of six suitcases, representing Sakauye and five other San Jose Japanese Americans, reflects the physical reality of the harsh restrictions forced on the internees -- they could take only what they could carry -- and serves as a metaphor for the traumatic emotional baggage they carried in those frightening times and for many years afterward. Wong is a cheery ex-teacher who, at 64, looks astonishingly youthful. A well-known mixed-media artist, she began her art career at age 40, when her kids were growing up and her husband busy with his job. "I don't even have an art degree!" she said, chuckling. Wong, who uses rice sacks, American flags, beads and joss paper for her projects, seems to be making up for lost time -- exhibiting at the M.H. de Young Memorial Museum and many other venues. Her award-winning exhibition "Made in U.S.A: Angel Island Shhh," is being shown at New York's Ellis Island as part of the exhibition "Tin See Do: The Angel Island Experience." It explores the secret identities of many Chinese immigrants, who hid the details of their emigration to this country -- a story that is very personal for Wong. Her mother came to the United States posing as her husband's sister to circumvent discriminatory immigration laws aimed at Chinese immigrants. "I had my own personal baggage," she said. WARTIME INCARCERATION The racism that led to the historical exclusion of Chinese immigrants also affected Japanese immigrants and their American-born offspring and ultimately contributed to their wartime incarceration. So it seems fitting that Wong, a Chinese American whose work has already been exhibited at the National Japanese American Museum in Los Angeles, conceived of the luggage project, which was funded in part by the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program. Wong likes to call the San Jose museum the city's best-kept secret. Established in 1987 to preserve the culture and history of Japanese Americans, the museum is staffed by a devoted corps of former internees. Housed in a small home donated by Sakauye, the museum is a stone's throw from San Jose's tiny Japantown. It may look like the typical Fifth Street residence, but inside, history comes alive. In many ways, it is like stepping right into 1942. To highlight the luggage exhibition, museum director and curator Jimi Yamaichi, who was interned at Tule Lake (Siskiyou County), re-created a 1942 Tule Lake barracks room, exactly 20 by 20 feet, with Army cots and blankets, potbellied stove and plank floor. A single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling. MODELS OF CAMPS In another room is a metal trough, complete with spouts, where internees washed up and did laundry. Next to it are models of some of the camps, with their watchtowers, from which soldiers kept their guns trained on residents. A beautiful handmade quilt, the squares representing all 10 camps, hangs on a wall. But it is in the re-created barracks that the six aging suitcases come to life. Sakauye's contained his trusty pocketknife -- an Old Timer, steel tipped at both ends. It whittled many a piece of wood, peeled bushels of apples and opened precious letters to Sakauye in camp at Heart Mountain, Wyo. Also in the suitcase were 1942 copies of Reader's Digest, which Sakauye enjoyed for its humor and general interest, and Popular Mechanics, which he devoured for the latest developments in farming. Lola Tanaka Abe's suitcase had a miniature violin -- she played the violin, accordion and shamisen (a Japanese string instrument) in camp and even formed a band with other young folks. Abe, now 78, was 17 when she went to Poston, a camp in the Arizona desert. She remembers her mother burning the family's kendo equipment and Japanese language books and records before they left for camp. 'BLUEBERRY HILL' SONG SHEET "She also wrote about our fear of having anything that might link us to Japan," Abe said. Also in Abe's luggage, there's a song sheet of "Blueberry Hill." "When I told Lola I'd found that song sheet, she cried," Wong said. "She used to play it in camp." In Misao Yamano Shiotsuka's suitcase, white tulle peeked out from the side pockets. There were also paper flowers and a note that read, "I packed my wedding suit in this suitcase." Shiotsuka married her beau, Sam, at Poston. The bridegroom was serving with the famed Japanese American 442nd Regimental Combat Team in Hattiesburg, Miss. He had to send her an engagement ring that was sized with a piece of string that Shiotsuka sent from camp. It fit perfectly. The centerpiece of Elsie Mayeda Honda's luggage was the pattern of the favorite blue dress she took to camp. She was wearing it at Tanforan -- the San Mateo racetrack-turned-temporary assembly center that held internees before they left for camp -- when she met her future husband, Henry. 'EARS GLUED TO RADIO' Inside Esau Shimizu's brown suitcase are the Zane Grey books he took to camp, and David M. Sakai's has a pack of Bee playing cards, which he played using his suitcase as a table on the train en route to Heart Mountain. Pasted next to the deck is an entry from his diary, dated Dec. 7, 1941: "Had our ears glued to the radio." Like treasure boxes, the suitcases are full of memories, filled out by photo montages and messages sewn by Wong with red thread. She's grown attached to them. "They're like my children," she said. As she watched several visitors walk through the exhibition, Wong said she couldn't say that her work offers any answers to what happened 61 years ago. "I want people to come to my exhibit and ask questions," she said. "I want them to be touched, curious, indignant even, and then I want them to go out and find out some more about it." 1942: Luggage From Home to Camp runs through June 30 at the Japanese American Museum of San Jose, 535 N. Fifth St., San Jose. Admission is free. (408) 294-3138 or www.jamsj.org.
E-mail Annie Nakao at anakao@sfchronicle.com. "Suitcases of sorrow: Display by South Bay Artist Honors WWII-Era Internees," by Cynthia Cho, San Jose Mercury News, July 5, 2003 If you suddenly were forced to evacuate your home, what would you take with you? Eiichi Edward Sakauye packed linens, clothes, shoes, a small pocketknife and copies of Reader's Digest and Popular Mechanics. According to orders issued by the Army's Western Defense Command, he couldn't take much else. It was 1942, during World War II, and Sakauye and his family, along with thousands of other Japanese and Japanese-Americans, were being relocated to internment camps. Sakauye, now 91, is one of the six Japanese-Americans featured in ``1942: Luggage From Home to Camp,'' an exhibition by Flo Oy Wong at the Japanese American Museum of San Jose. It opened Tuesday and will continue through June 30, 2004. The exhibition consists of six suitcases -- one for each of the participants -- that Wong has filled with photographs and personal objects to tell not only what these men and women took to the camps, but also the process and impact of their incarcerations. The suitcases, which were actually used by the subjects and others when they entered and left the camps, are displayed in a replica of an internment barracks. Wong, 64, says that in all her works, she strives to tell the extraordinary stories of ordinary people. This project marks the culmination of a year's worth of researching, interviewing and making art. Initially, some of the participants were hesitant about sharing their personal stories with Wong. ``With an issue like internment, the people involved are very careful about who should tell their stories, because outsiders may have good intentions but they tell the stories on a surface level,'' Wong says. So first she had to develop a trusting relationship with each of her subjects. In addition to Sakauye, she worked with Lola Tanaka Abe, Elsie Mayeda Honda, David M. Sakai, Esau Shimizu and Misao Yamano Shiotsuka. Wong spent six months visiting the former internees in their homes and speaking with them on the telephone. Wong says she decided to present the stories of these men and women using suitcases because suitcases themselves have histories. ``Like the old saying, `If walls could talk,' I often think, `If suitcases could talk,' '' Wong says. In a catalog accompanying the exhibition, Kristine Kim, curator of the Japanese American National Museum, writes, ``The suitcase is a meaningful object because it reminds us how little Japanese-Americans were allowed to bring with them and how, consequently, they were forced to become resourceful.'' The suitcases reveal the pain and hardships that the former internees endured and, at the same time, the courage and hope that helped them survive. For example, in the suitcase based on Honda's experience, Wong included an autograph book that Honda's friends had given her before she left for the camp and the copy of the New Testament that she also took with her. The centerpiece of Abe's suitcase is a small violin. ``Playing music helped me take my mind off of being in camp,'' Abe says. The replica of the internment barracks -- created by Jimi Yamaichi, director and curator of the Japanese American Museum of San Jose -- includes cots, a potbellied stove and windows from an actual barracks. In the entryway to the exhibition is a quilt that commemorates the internees. Amy Higuchi led a team that created the quilt, which was voted the favorite at this year's Santa Clara Quilt Association Show. The suitcases also contain small mirrors so viewers can look inside and ``see themselves looking back into history,'' Wong explains. This idea of teaching people about the past is central to the mission of the Japanese American Museum of San Jose, which applied for a grant from the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program and commissioned Wong for this project. For the exhibition, Wong worked closely with the museum's president, Joseph Yasutake, and its chief financial officer, Ken Iwagaki, from start to finish. Yasutake, who served as co-project director with Wong, noted that the internment of Japanese and Japanese-Americans is an important part of American history, particularly in our post-Sept. 11 society where race and ethnicity have played important parts in U.S. government policymaking. Iwagaki also emphasized the importance of keeping the history of the internment camps alive, particularly among the younger generation. Wong began her art career when she was in her late 30s. A former schoolteacher, she says she wanted to ``find something for herself,'' and that led her to take art classes at De Anza and Foothill colleges. ``The classes put me in a completely different world,'' she recalls. ``I began to look at issues intellectually, aesthetically, emotionally and psychologically.'' Since her first exhibition in 1983, Wong has shown her work across the country. She is working on an installation about Wen Ho Lee, a former nuclear scientist at Los Alamos, N.M., who was charged by the U.S. government in December 1999 with mishandling sensitive nuclear data. Wong's works have been focused primarily on the Asian-American communities. ``I wanted Asians to see themselves as normal people with meaningful lives. I was tired of outsiders telling our stories,'' she says. The former internees featured in the current exhibit ``taught me how to endure suffering and how to forgive, and that they are committed to keeping their story in the American landscape. That is very important,'' she says. ``The United States is a diverse country, and we need diverse stories.''
1942: Luggage From Home to Camp " Former internee saving his past: Bid To Save Camps Is Linked To Day Of Remembrance," by Cecelia Kang, San Jose Mercury News, February 19, 2003 As Jimi Yamaichi kicked up the dust along the barbed-wire fence, the long-buried memories of his years at the Tulelake internment camp rose in a flood of emotion. It had taken more than four decades for the San Jose native to muster the courage to revisit the site where his family was imprisoned during World War II.
"Everything came back to me, how we had struggled and toiled in the dirt and dust there,'' said Yamaichi, 80. "I realized then that we have to tell people about what happened to us so that it won't happen again.'' As the incarceration of 120,000 Japanese-Americans is commemorated today in the Day of Remembrance, many former internees such as Yamaichi have stressed the importance of preventing a similar fate for Arab Americans and Muslims in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks. Some see a permanent Tulelake memorial as one answer. The drive to save Tulelake is part of a growing movement among former internees to preserve the 10 main internment camps, two of them in California. So far, only Manzanar in Southern California and Minidoka camp in Idaho have been designated as preservation sites. Like many second-generation, or nisei, Japanese-Americans, Yamaichi is now racing to record the stories and and protect the camps. In their 70s and 80s, they are the last of a generation with firsthand accounts of the camps. But it took many years for the grandfather of four to even talk about the four years he lived at the Heart Mountain, Wyo., and Tulelake internment camps. After he was released from Tulelake in 1946, Yamaichi, then 24 years old, quickly buried that part of his life, looking for a fresh start with his wife, Eiko. The couple moved to San Jose, where Jimi was raised on his family's Berryessa vegetable farm. They tried to assimilate with their white neighbors, as prejudice against Japanese-Americans lingered well into the 1960s and 1970s. And Jimi spent long hours building his construction company. He retired last year. Yamaichi never dreamed of going back to Tulelake, the site of so many lost dreams and so much despair. "It's no different than prison. Who goes back to visit the jail they were in after being released?'' he said. "There are only hard memories there, and you just want to move on.'' Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston, author of "Farewell to Manzanar,'' which documents her family's experience in that camp, said many former internees have suppressed their memories. "It was such a shocking and traumatic experience that it takes many at least 25 to 30 years before they can start to address it again,'' she said. Gradually, however, Yamaichi's views began to change. His four children and grandchildren were beginning to ask more questions. As he grew older, he reflected more on how the camps had affected his life. He began to talk to his children and friends about how his father used most of the family's savings to buy winter clothes for his 10 children during the harsh winter at Heart Mountain. He recounted how they chose to move a year later to Tulelake, the largest camp. He spoke about how he was forced to support his family by heading construction and maintenance at the camp for $19 a month. And he told about his frustration with the uncertainty of his future. Yamaichi should have been dating, going to college or starting his first job. Instead, he felt his life was at a standstill. Yamaichi never went to college. He decided to make a trip back to Tulelake with Eiko, who was also interned there from 1942 to 1943. Eiko's family left Tulelake before the Yamaichi family arrived. The couple met later through friends. Despite the many years since their experiences there, the couple were overwhelmed by what they saw. The concrete jail that Yamaichi helped build was crumbling, and the bars had been stolen from the windows and the doors. But poems and cries for help by prisoners were still scratched on the walls. There were just small stretches remaining of the 32 miles of barbed wire that surrounded the camp. Residents in Newell, the town nearest to the camp, had built houses, a store and school on former camp property, using the water and sewer system that Yamaichi helped build. "It was earthshaking to stand on the same ground and see the buildings, many of them that I helped build,'' Yamaichi said. There are only about 25 buildings left of a thousand barracks, kitchens, stores and other buildings that once crowded the land. In an ironic twist, Yamaichi decided over the next few years to save the place that he had been running from. So in 1996, Yamaichi helped form the Tule Lake Committee to try to gain preservation status for Tulelake through the National Park Service. The committee has eight volunteers leading the effort. "Tulelake is an American story about how discrimination affected the lives of 120,000 Japanese,'' Yamaichi said. "We need to preserve the site so that people can see what it looked like and understand what we went through.'' Tulelake was officially a segregation center, designated for the thousands of Japanese-Americans -- many still Japanese citizens -- who didn't answer "yes'' to questions testing their loyalty to the U.S. government. Of the 18,700 internees at Tulelake, roughly three-fourths had been sent to the camp because they answered "no'' to the questions. Yamaichi's father agreed to the loyalty oath, but moved to Tulelake seeking warmer weather for his heart problems. The effort to preserve Tulelake has gone slowly. Much of the camp land is now privately owned, and residents haven't been receptive to the committee's desire to build a museum and reconstruct some of the old buildings, Yamaichi said. So far, the committee has gained approval to build a small educational center on a small government-owned piece of the camp. "We've faced a lot of resistance,'' said Yamaichi. "But we won't stop working to make sure Tulelake and its stories don't die.''
IF YOU'RE INTERESTED To learn more about the Tulelake camp preservation effort, go to www.gaylonn.com/tulelake (c) 2003 Mercury News and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved. http://www.bayarea.com "Community Congress: What Does The Future Hold For San Jose's Japantown," by Barbara Hiura, Hokubei Mainichi, February 2003 There is much at stake for the future of San Jose's Japantown, speakers at the first of several planned community forums said on Oct. 5 at the San Jose Buddhist Temple annex. With the passage of SB 307, which provides funds for Japantown preservation projects, the first Community Congress took a concrete look at issues of cultural and historic preservation. Interested citizens were guided through the Jackson-Taylor development plan from the combined leadership of representatives from the San Jose Japantown Ad Hoc Preservation Task Force, members of the San Jose Redevelopment Agency, and state and local politicians. Pushed forward by the Three-Japantown Preservation Task Force and spearheaded by state Sen. John Vasconcellos (D-San Jose), SB 307 was finally passed, albeit with a much smaller budget than expected. This bill provides $50,000 for each of the remaining Japan-towns, located in San Jose, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. The money will go to each city government, to be distributed to specific preservation projects. While not the financial boon the community was looking for, the bill sets a precedent for areas designated for cultural and historic preservation. "The passage of SB 307 money to revitalize Japantown is truly historic and very satisfying for me,_Eremarked Vasconcellos. "It was a privilege for me to work on this bill as your state senator. The bill helps keep [Japantowns] intact, preserve them, keep them living on for the future, and helps you remember your past. These communities are so rich and diverse." The bill was finally approved by Gov. Gray Davis in October 2001. Through the act, San Jose's Japantown, San Francisco's Nihonmachi and Los Angeles' Little Tokyo were designated as pilot projects for historic preservation. "The purpose of the bill was to honor your own heritage and provide you with some authorization and legitimacy on the state scene to find you some money," Vasconcellos said. "The money is in the bill, but was limited because the state is short of money. To his credit, the governor signed the bill and he did say when the bond issue was passed that there would be some money that would go to 307 funding." With his work completed, he was happy to pass responsibility for the funds back to the community. "I've done my share. It's on the books and you have money coming to you and now it's totally in your hands. The ball is in your court ... I challenge you to make the most of this opportunity to keep your heritage alive, which is great for San Jose. Vasconcellos added, "San Jose is way ahead of the rest of the other Japantowns in terms of preparing for the use of this money" because the city has already established a close working relationship with Japantown businesses and community organizations concerning redevelopment issues. Cultural Diversity Joe Yasutake of the Japanese American Museum of San Jose (formerly Japanese American Resource Center/Museum) and the JAHPTF put the issues in focus as he talked about the importance of state support for the com-munity's preservation efforts. He discussed the act's requisite guidelines for community involvement as an integral part of the city's decision-making process regarding use of the funds. "It's well known and recognized that California is the most culturally diverse state in the nation," Yasutake said. "California is proud of that. I think that the State Legislature as well as the City of San Jose are recognizing how important it is for all the ethnic groups to maintain their ethnicity within their communities" Prior to SB 307, the idea of obtaining historic preservation designation had only been applied to buildings and a few main streets, and had never been given to specific neighborhood areas. With cultural and community survival at stake, the Three-Japantown Task Force, which had been meeting since 2000, decided to approach the state government, formulating an innovative idea to preserve cultural areas. Jerry Hiura, a Japantown dentist, Kathy Sakamoto, executive director of the Japantown Business Association, and Yasutake represented San Jose as members of the Three-Japantown Task Force and testified before legislative committees on the bill. "SB 307 is a pilot study for the preservation of the three Japan-towns ... They were identified as an example and a model of how we might handle the other ethnic communities throughout the state," Yasutake explained. "The premise is certainly economic development, but if it's going to be done in an ethnic community, it must take into consideration the character of that community and make sure that any kind of expansion and development in that community stay within the character of that particular area." With the funding being reduced from $500,000 to only $50,000 per city, "it was a little bit of a severe cut," he noted. "But we have the advantage here in San Jose. The city ... has had plans in the works for some time, and we're trying now to consolidate those plans into something which will have legislative power to keep Japantown ... as close as possible to the way it is now. And if it is expanded, to expand it in such a way that keeps the character of Japantown." According to Yasutake, the JAHPTF was created to deal with the bill on a conceptual and concrete level when working with the city on planned development. Throughout 2002, the task force, composed of business and community leaders, has been meeting to develop a definition of cultural preservation. "We needed to get an understanding of the meaning of Japanese American cultural preservation and what it means in operational terms,_EYasutake recalled. "This is one of the concepts that all three Japan-towns should have in common. There should not be a difference." The task force then gave concrete attention to the city-owned Main Corporation Yard and created seven guidelines to create a viable Japantown community organization and address cultural preservation issues in light of the city's desire to create a self- sufficient redeveloped area. "We decided to apply some of the guiding principles we developed to any development project done either to the Corporation Yard or other areas within Japantown," Yasutake said. "And although the Corporation Yard is a very significant piece of the action, all of us need to continue to remember that Japantown is not just that. There are a lot of different activities and a lot of different geographic locations that are considered at the same time." Twelve Years of Development The issue of cultural preservation goes well beyond the use of SB 307 money, however. It goes to the core of what will revitalize the Japantown area. City officials and the Redevelopment Agency have invested time and prepared a long-term development plan for the area and surrounding neighborhoods, parts of which have already been implemented. The city's focus on Japantown redevelopment has been ongoing for the past 12 years, particularly in the area of housing projects with the goal of ensuring that completed projects are income-bearing and self-sufficient. At the same time, the city is concerned with the retention of the multicultural flavor within the ethnically diverse Jackson-Taylor community and business district. Since 1992, city-planned neighborhood building projects have gone up, including the Miraido Village apartment complex on North 6th and Jackson streets. Next up on the agenda is a make-over for the Main Corporation Yard, which is approximately two years down the road, as part of the Jackson-Taylor Neighborhood Business District and Redevelopment Area, of which Japantown is a part. The Redevelopment Agency and members of the Japantown community are working together regarding what will be developed on the property as well as issues of tourism and traffic in the historic neighborhood. City Councilwoman Cindy Chavez has been an integral part of Japantown's redevelopment since she was elected in 1998. "I know that this is a labor of love for all of you," she said in addressing the passage of SB 307. "But you really deserve to be acknowledged because every new burst of energy that we get into Japantown gets us one step closer to preservation and protection." In that regard, "the RDA, the City of San Jose and myself are all very committed in our partnership with you." Chavez said she met with the Japantown Business Association throughout 1999 to talk about the Main Corporation Yard. "I learned about individual visions on what Japantown could be, what it is today and what it should be in the future. It helped me understand how to better work with developers to implement plans that you already worked out and developed." Chavez said that the perspective of neighborhood groups "needs to be included in every development that happens within walking distance of Japantown. In order for Japantown to be protected, enhanced and preserved and for us to put the Corporation Yard in the best possible position to be developed, we are going to have to work together." The Corporation Yard The Main Corporation Yard, bounded by 6th, 7th, Jackson and Taylor streets, is a block-long area of warehouse buildings housing the city's service cars and equipment. Chavez called it "an exciting opportunity for mixed-use development. A portion of the project is designated for 1.2 acres of park, which the council is very interested in, and that could take any number of forms. But the idea is that we do need to introduce more green space as we add development. "There is also space for mixed use, which allows for a mixture of residential development apartments, condominiums, lofts, etc. and some amount of commercial space, and the idea is to integrate those two. "This gives us quite a bit of flexibility because the commercial uses could be retail, they could be offices, or they could be some form of community space ... "There's a lot of flexibility that is already built into the plan, and what we're interested in is your ideas about how we might go beyond this plan and structure it a little bit more carefully so that the council will have some guidance on how they should consider future development in that area." Continued Challenges There is a bug in the city's plans for the yard, however. The area is not ready for development. According to Chavez, city equipment needs to be moved off the Corporation Yard to the Beechnut Yard near Kelly Park, but that move is contingent on moving equipment off the Beechnut Yard. Toxic clean-up may be needed once the equipment is moved. Early on, money was set aside to accomplish all of these tasks, but Chavez admitted that the amount is not enough. "Since that time, the cost to complete our vision at the Beechnut Yard is going to be more expensive. "Our first budget request was for $1 million be set aside for the Corporation Yard. When the Corporation Yard moves its facilities over to Beechnut, we would be able to start doing remediation on it, including toxic clean-up. The developers would come into a clean, already prepped piece of property. We thought it would make it more attractive to them." Each piece must fall in place because it's "like a house of cards," she said. "Clearing Beechnut is such a critical component of us completing our vision." But the goal remains, she add-ed. "By 2003 or 2004, we want to have that Corporation Yard cleared, remediated, [so] that we'd be able to draw up a plan." RDA's Role Laurel Prevetti, deputy director of planning services for the Department of Building, Planning and Code Enforcement, outlined the successes already recorded through joint participation of the city, RDA and the community. Her area of expertise is long-range planning. "We look forward to the next 10 to 20 years and try and work with the community to identify what our vision is for what we want San Jose to become ... That involves not only protecting what we already have, but how we can enhance those special characteristics of San Jose." The Jackson-Taylor residential strategy area was adopted by the City Council in 1992. "That really set forth some of the land-use parameters for planning in that area. Shortly after ... we established the redevelopment area which encompasses the Corporation Yard, portions of Jackson and Taylor, and down to 1st Street." She pointed out the number of commercial endeavors, apartments and mixed-use projects in the neighborhood that have already been built. "In addition to all the new development, it's really important to provide parks and amenities to the community as we introduce new population to the area," she added. Projects in historical and ethnic areas "would be compatible with its surroundings," she said. "We wanted to create a mixed-use community, with housing as well as retail uses and parks. It would become a very livable place and really fit quite nicely with its surroundings. And it's really the basis for this plan that has led to all the development projects." All neighborhood projects have had the community perspective included, particularly at the critical ground-floor planning stages, Chavez stressed. "There is no project that hasn't become better when the community has had a leadership role in informing us. For the last four years, we've made it a part of our office culture to connect the community and get their feedback before we move forward. And that's part of the reason I'm so excited that this community has taken a leadership role at our meetings." Community Involvement The group was divided into three breakout sessions to discuss the composition of the "community organization" as outlined in SB 307 and ask questions regarding development issues. Each group had at least one JAHPTF member and an RDA representative acting as facilitators. "The input that you make here will be given to the ad-hoc committee to modify and make recommendations," said ad-hoc task force member Roy Takeuchi. "The long-term goal is that in two years, by October 2004, the results of all these congress meetings and the ad hoc committee will be culminated and will go back to the city, and will form the foundation for the city to guide them in the direction." The first session focused on the principle of community involvement. Jonathan Noble, Chavez's chief of staff, cited the case of the Mariani Apartments, where the city brought developers to work with the city and the community. "We've been able to get developers in to change their design, to lower their heights, and the number of units and address traffic concerns." Noble promised, "Whatever development is going into to Japantown, the community has the opportunity to review and give their input about what developments they want to go in." Takeuchi also gave assurances about his committee's accessibility. "The ad hoc group is not exclusive. We want to make it as inclusive as possible," he said, the only restriction being that it can't be too unwieldy with an inordinate number of representatives. The JAHPTF would serve as the main link between the city and the community. While approving the JAHPTF to represent them at city planning meetings, participants wanted to ensure that the Community Congress itself was inclusive of as many businesses, organizations, homeowners and other stakeholders as possible. Vicky Taketa of the JAHPTF also served as a facilitator. Self-Supporting Businesses In the second session, the JBA's Sakamoto and Yosh Uchida of Uchida Enterprises represented the business sector and Izzy Rodriguez of the RDA addressed the city's interests. "It's crucial for everybody to understand that whatever is developed that it must be self-supporting," said Sakamoto. "Where there is an area designated for a park, Parks and Recreation and the community will have the responsibility to support and maintain it. If a community center and theater is built, it must be able to make money. It can't stand empty for long periods of time." Japantown is in need of revival, Sakamoto said, pointing out that the area was once bustling with thriving businesses and a large residential population. "We used to have a bakery and we don't have one. We used to have a coffee shop and drugstore, but not anymore. You won't have businesses if there are no people." Some development projects were discussed: an assisted living, residential care facility as an extension to the existing Fuji Towers and Yu-Ai Kai, which serve Nikkei senior citizens. The group wanted something other than more housing. Uchida, who was instrumental in the development of Miraido Village, remarked, "We already have enough apartments. We need businesses that will attract more foot traffic into the area. People who will spend money." "And there needs to be enough traffic, and a large enough population base to sustain incoming business like a Starbucks. Starbucks didn't come in because there was not enough foot traffic," added Sakamoto. To Uchida, the bottom line is: "You need a constant number of people coming in. In order to do that, you have to have some condos or townhouses where people own it ... If you don't have that base, you could put the best theaters and everything, but you're going to have a failure." As an example, Uchida mentioned the Mexican Cultural Heritage Center in East San Jose. "It's a beautiful place, but there's nobody there. That was put up by the city and they leased it to the Mexican Heritage Corporation, but that place is dead. You're going to have a dead place here if you don't have people living here." Also critical is access to Japantown through public transportation such as shuttle service and buses, as well as ensuring pedestrian safety, Sakamoto said. "What we'd like to do is bring back a feeling of community into the neighborhood ... feel comfortable walking around ... Everything that people need must already be here ... We need pedestrian-friendly walkways and keeping people safe over the railroad tracks." Garden and Gateway The third session focused on the garden and gateway concepts presented by Helen Hayashi and Hiura representing the JAHPTF and Christopher "Kip" Harkness of the RDA. Harkness said that according to the plan, 1.2 acres at North 6th and Jackson is designated as park area. "They don't say what should be in the park or how it should be. But the difficulty in making the park available is that every foot given to making the park bigger is a foot that a private developer can't make money on. It becomes more expensive to build." Hayashi also noted that the park concept won't necessarily be confined to that area; proposed landscaping themes might be carried throughout Japantown. Also presented were nine gateway concepts developed by an RDA architect. While several were considered as possibilities, a majority at the session wanted to see a gateway concept created by a Japanese American who has a sense of the culture and a vision that is consistent with that of the Japantown community. They asked for other design choices. "We're at ground zero and nothing has been determined regarding the gateway," Hiura emphasized. "We're talking about one gateway at Taylor and 1st, and this will be the pull into our community as people find ways of getting into Japantown. "This gateway will set a tone ... It's important that we have the ability now to be able to put a lot of input into this. We can at least propose to change the location of the gateway ... the elements, materials and the process." According to Hiura, there is $90,000 designated for the gateway. "That doesn't buy you a lot of gateway, but Cindy Chavez has intimated to me that there is more money. But we have a blank slate and we have to come up with what would be the most appropriate gateway for our community." The RDA has not yet consulted an artist about a design concept, Harkness said. "It's not at all appropriate that somebody who does not understand the community create the design, and we are committed to ... asking for expertise from your community. How can we reflect the Japanese culture or Japanese American culture? There's a lot of great design expertise on art and architects in the community that could be brought into this, and that will be up to you who are on the committee to guide us on this." Hiura added, "It's important to have an identifier. But once you raise an icon that symbolizes you, it drives a lot of what we're all about. So this is a critical one. This is our banner, essentially. "I like things that are in continuity with the core of our community. I would like to see something that marks the four entry points to Japantown. They could all be uniform or they could all be slightly different. "But we really have to realize that we live in a community that is majority Hispanic ... We probably have about 60 percent Latinos who actually live in Japantown, and we have to be very sensitive that whatever we put up as symbol of our Japantown has a multicultural spin." Looking Ahead Yasutake brought the group back to a meeting of the whole and encouraged everyone to continue their participation in what will be a long-term process. "What Japantown is going through goes beyond one or two years. We're talking about a 10-year time period when all of the things are going to start fitting into place over time. Although we've done a lot of work, there's a lot of work left to be done." He applauded the congenial relationship established between the city and the community. "You can see that if you witnessed what's been going on this morning. We've had people from the city helping in each of the groups ... They are genuinely interested in what's been going on. Yasutake said a report will be going to the state by December 2004 and the Corporation Yard will become part of Japantown by 2005. From then on, "the real brick-and-mortar kind of decisions have to be made, assuming that we get the Corporation Yard. And because of the way the SB 307 is set up, "it gives us a strong opportunity to be heard in Sacramento in terms of what we would really want in San Jose. Throughout the process, Yasutake reiterated, "what we need to do is keep in mind the common goal of making Japantown a better place and making sure that it is preserved. The JAHPTF meets once a month. The next Community Congress is scheduled for Saturday, Jan. 18, at Wesley United Methodist Church, 566 N. 5th St. (Postscript: Gov. Davis signed Proposition 40 on Oct. 31. An additional $1 million in grant monies was targeted for preservation efforts in the three Japantowns.) Barbara Hiura is the reporter/editorial assistant for the Hokubei's English section. "San Jose Museum Opens New Exhibit on Community Youth Service (CYS)", by Stephen Fujita, Hokubei Mainichi, February 2003 
The Japanese American Museum of San Jose is hosting a new exhibit tracing the history and activities of a still very vital 40-year-old organization known as the San Jose Japanese Community Youth Service or CYS. This group was started in the early 1960's to provide opportunities for community youth to participate in a wide range of athletic activities. At the time, it was felt that the smaller stature of the Sansei as well as the need to provide a venue where Nikkei youth could develop together made such an organization desirable. With respect to this inculcation of Japanese American culture in the younger generation, many years earlier the Issei had similar hopes for their Nisei children. At that time, they encouraged their children to attend Nihon gakko and take Judo lessons.Over the years, CYS has grown and supported a variety of innovative activities such as an exchange program of local Nikkei baseball teams with those from Hawaii. One year, San Jose families would host the Islanders and the next year the reverse would take place. Similar to other Japanese American organizations, close social ties and an interest in the common good were critical factors in the group's success. Also as in other Nikkei organizations, the necessary fundraising had a community-oriented flavor. The exhibit captures this by showing a large number of people pitching in at pancake breakfasts, family potluck dinners, and benefit Japanese movies.
Bobbie Ueunten and Joyce Katayama curated the exhibit. They were able to bring together a large number of photographs of the group's activities over four decades. Most of these had been previously buried in old family photograph boxes. Museum hours are from 11 am-3 pm T-F and 11 am-2 pm on Sun. JAMsj is located at 535 N. 5th in San Jose's Japantown. Call (408) 294-3138 for further information.
"Union Bank Supports Innovative Incarceration Exhibit", by Stephen Fujita, Hokubei Mainichi, February 2003 
From left: Julius Robinson, Sr. V.P. & Regional Manager, Union Bank; Dr. Joe Yasutake, JAMsj Pres.; Tomoko Hazeley, V.P. & Manager, N. First St. Branch, Union Bank; Ken Iwagaki, JAMsj Chief Financial Officer Union Bank has awarded the Japanese American Museum of San Jose (JAMsj) a $2500 grant to support the creation of a major upcoming exhibit, "1942: Luggage from Home to Camp." This exhibit, designed by nationally recognized artist Flo Oy Wong, will feature the personal stories of local WWII incarcerees told through the medium of the suitcases they took with them to camp. These suitcases will contain their remembrances as well as the items and other memorabilia that the incarcerees chose to take to the desolate detention camps as well as bring back. Through the efforts of Museum Director/Curator Jimi Yamaichi, what is currently a garage in the rear of the main museum building will be remodeled to display the suitcases in a setting that will resemble a typical barracks room. JAMsj Advisory Board member Tomoko Hazeley was instrumental in securing these funds. The California Civil Liberties Public Education Fund, an Applied Materials in the Arts Grant: A Program of the Arts Council of Silicon Valley and individual contributors are also supporting the development of this major exhibit which will ultimately travel throughout the country. back to top "A 'Happening' at Tule Lake," by Ann Muto, Nikkei West, April 10, 2001 
The morning panel shared their experiences during the evacuation and internment. (L-R: Dr. Joe Yasutake [moderator], Mas Yamasaki, Eiko Tanaka Yamaichi, Jimi Yamaichi) Many of us like to think that the Bay Area is where the action is. Whether we live in the Silicon Valley where technology reigns supreme or in San Francisco where history and culture are found in museums or the symphony hall, there is a lot happening. Contrast all that to Tulelake, California where they typically drive at the speed limit, where the local high school has less than 200 students, and the closest Burger King is 30 minutes away. Yet on Friday and Saturday, March 9th and 10th, there was a lot happening in that tiny town of 1000. The center of the activities was Tulelake High School. The catalyst of the action was a high school history teacher James King. When he was awarded the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program grant, the dream of sharing his passion and commitment with other teachers evolved from his connection with the Tule Lake Preservation Committee. He hoped that they would teach their students about the Japanese American experience during World War II as he has been over many years. It was he who arranged for the teacher training workshop and the tour of the Tule Lake Internment Camp. It was he who contacted teachers in surrounding districts, worked with the news media, and communicated with community leaders. Because he utilized local vendors and spread the information among the residents, this focused educational venture grew into a community event. In preparation for that event, organizers from the Japanese American Resource Center / Museum (JAMsj) of San Jose, the Tule Lake Committee, and the Northern California - Western Nevada - Pacific District Council of the Japanese American Citizens League (JACL) met in the Bay Area. Their task was not only to provide a workshop that would be relevant to teachers but also be accessible to the residents of the surrounding communities. There were varying levels of suspicion and mistrust in that area towards the efforts of preserving the historic buildings from the 1940s, which were part of the "Segregation Center" of the War Relocation Authority (WRA) camps. Late Friday afternoon over 40 people - twice the number expected - boarded a school bus to tour the site of the WRA Tule Lake Internment Camp in present-day Newell, California. It was the camp, which housed over 18,000 people during World War II and became known as the "Segregation Center." Jimi Yamaichi (former internee and construction supervisor of the Tule Lake camp) used his still vivid memories as well as photos in the Kinenhi book to help the others "see the barracks and the people walking" as they were in 1943. He pointed out the few surviving remnants - overturned concrete slabs, which was the restroom-shower building, the small concrete building that was the camp's stockade, and the low wooden fence marking the perimeter of the camp. Following the tour the group continued their lively discussion at Captain Jack's Stronghold, a local restaurant. Early the next morning, Tulelake High School's gymnasium again began to buzz as nearly 70 people gathered to bear witness to the testimony of former internees Mas Yamasaki, Eiko Tanaka Yamaichi, and Jimi Yamaichi. (The only minorities in attendance were the presenters.) Mas Yamasaki, while remembering the boyish pleasure of playing in all the sports also described their barracks as having "one army cot, one mattress, two army blankets, a pot belly stove, a 60 watt bulb, and no running water." Because the government jailed prominent men who they considered potential conspirators (including many Buddhist priests), Yamasaki continued, the responsibility to conduct services fell to the older Nisei (second generation Japanese Americans). He told how he obeyed his mother by getting up on Sunday mornings to attend "Dharma School;" his attendance then led to a lifelong association with the Buddhist Church. Eiko Tanaka Yamaichi lived in the state of Washington as a high school student when the executive order was issued. Because of the five-mile restriction, she was not allowed to continue at her school prior to the evacuation. As a result, she along with many others could not graduate with their former classmates. Later she was a member of the first graduating class of Tri-State High School in the Tule Lake Relocation Camp. One of her most painful memories was watching her father's despair when they had to sell their refrigerator for $10 for which he had paid $125 only a short time before. Her family was poor before they were sent to camp, so that they were poor in camp since there were limited opportunities to earn money. She remembered wearing shoes whose soles were replaced countless times with cardboard, "so they would last longer before having to be replaced." Jimi Yamaichi talked about growing up in San Jose, California and graduating from the San Jose Technical High School before first being interned in the Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming. His family was moved to the Tule Lake Relocation Center in 1943 when internees were segregated based on their responses to questions 27 and 28 on the "Statement of United States Citizen of Japanese Ancestry" questionnaire, also known as the "Loyalty Questionnaire." There his unique position as supervisor provided him with access to the entire camp and even the use of a pick-up truck. The Issei (first generation Japanese Americans) were not able to get responsible jobs or those that required decision-making. "It was very degrading for them." He was a twenty-year old supervising "people old enough to be my brothers, people old enough to be my grandfathers." It was yet another way in which the authority and dignity of the Issei leaders was attacked and diminished. Those in the audience then seemed to take over as they asked question after question of the former internees. They exhibited more than a basic understanding of the situation as their questions probed for details about the gymnasium that was burned down, the number of dollars internees earned, and whether there was an awareness that the German Prisoners of War in another camp near Tulelake were able to leave camp to visit nearby communities with minimal supervision. They also queried the panelists about how many days they had to prepare for evacuation [the responses varied, but never more than a few weeks]; what happened to those who died [most families cremated their loved ones and kept the ashes in their barracks, causing great hardship on them for failing to provide a proper burial]; whether there were suicides in camp [one internee put his head on a railroad track and the WRA reported there were more deaths in the camps than in the regular population]; and whether censorship was practiced [especially letters to and from Department of Justice camps to which highly suspect men or those who renounced their citizenship were sent]. Before the morning was over, Greg Marutani (facilitator) laid the background for the panel later in the day when he challenged the audience to answer for themselves the infamous questions that determined who was sent to the "Segregation Center." He reminded them that the Issei parents could not be American citizens by law; therefore, by answering question 28, "No," it would mean that they would be people without a country. He also pointed out that to a lot of the internees, staying together as a family overshadowed the declaration of "loyalty." The audience's confusion paralleled the confusion experienced by the internees, and they had not been forced out of their homes and put behind barbed wire before being asked to respond. Overall, it was clear that neither answer (yes or no without qualification) could appropriately determine who was "loyal" and who was not.
The afternoon panel focused on the uniqueness of the Tule Lake Relocation Center after it became the Segregation Center in 1944. (L-R: Dr. Joe Yasutake [Moderator], Hiroshi Shimizu, Hiroshi Kashiwage, Jimi Yamaichi. In the afternoon the testimony focused more on the uniqueness of the Tule Lake Relocation Camp. Hiroshi Shimizu related more of his family's story, as he was younger than three years old while in the Tule Lake camp. His grandfather, his father, his mother and he were at Ellis Island ready to board the Gripsholm to journey to Japan but since they were on the waiting list, they did not. They were instead transported across the country to the Tule Lake Segregation Center to which families awaiting repatriation with Japan were sent as well as families whose members had responded "no-no" to questions 27 and 28. Other families, such as Tanaka Yamaichi's, left the Tule Lake Relocation Camp in 1943 for one of the other nine camps to which "loyal" Japanese Americans were sent. After his years in the Tule Lake Camp, Shimizu's father who initially wanted to stay in the United States renounced his citizenship and Shimizu's family was sent to the Department of Justice Camp in Crystal City, Texas. Hiroshi Kashiwagi described how angry he was about all the years of discrimination he had endured "when the epithet 'Jap' was a daily occurrence [making me feel] foreign just like my parents" even though he was born in Sacramento, California and was a graduate of an American high school. Kashiwagi was not an activist in camp, but he could not in good conscience respond to questions 27 and 28. He explained, "And then without due process to be put into a camp, on top of that to have my loyalty questioned in the way that they did, I could not comply to that order." Jimi Yamaichi added his story of resistance to the chapters he had related on the tour and earlier that day. When the war started, he was designated 1-A (eligible for the draft). But in early 1943, his classification was changed to 4-C (enemy alien). In 1944, he was again reclassified as 1-A while still interned at Tule Lake. Yamaichi had strong feelings about being drafted because he knew of his brother's degradation in the army when he was given a wooden gun in training while others had real weapons. In addition, he felt compelled to consider resisting because his rights as an American citizen were taken away; he was behind barbed wire fences, guarded by military police. In July of 1944, when he encountered the other 25 men at the front gate, it was the first time any of them knew who else had decided to resist. The group traveled to Eureka guarded by an U. S. Marshall where they appeared before Judge Louis E. Goodman. Although Judge Goodman did not address the validity or constitutionality of the Presidential order for relocation, it was clear to him that the defendants were not free agents, "nor is any plea that [they] may make, free or voluntary, and hence [they were] not accorded 'due process' in this proceeding." The ruling also included the statement: "It is shocking to the conscience that an American citizen be confined on the ground of disloyalty, and then, while so under duress and restraint, be compelled to serve in the armed forces, or be prosecuted for not yielding to such compulsion." And later, "The motion to quash the indictment [was] granted and the proceeding [was] dismissed." They returned to Tule Lake as "free" internees and were not imprisoned in a federal penitentiary, as were resisters from other camps. Dr. Joe Yasutake (moderator) explained that even within the Japanese American community there has been a lot of resentment from the members of the much decorated 100th / 442nd Regimental Combat Team and other veterans towards the internees who were resisters. Only recently has there been an attitude shift to give the resisters a "very rightful place in history as guys who resisted in their own way to some of the injustices that were going on in this country" and that the "distance is being lessened quite a bit." Again the audience directed the flow of the moment as a man (former teacher and resident of the area) stood up and said, "Thank you for saying, 'No - no.' I appreciated that. [It took] a lot of courage to do that." There was a moment of silence; then another man began clapping, and the entire audience applauded. There may be some that say the action is other than in Tulelake, but on that day, in that high school gymnasium something did happen. Many hands reached back over generations of suspicion, hatred and fear and moved their hearts to a greater level of understanding and a commitment to unearthing pieces of their common history, and perhaps to safeguarding the rights of all Americans under any kind of circumstances. back to top "Internment camp remembered: Internees return to Tule Lake", by Lee Juillerat, Herald and News, March 12, 2001 
TULELAKE -- Where others see dusty sagebrush fields, Jimi Yamaichi sees barracks --row upon row of barracks filled with cramped families.
Where others see remnants of overturned concrete slabs, Yamaichi sees a restroom-shower building that was used by 300 people in a block of barracks. And when others see a small concrete building, one of the few remnant structures from the Tule Lake Internment Camp near present-day Newell, he sees the work crews he supervised to build the campís stockade. I built that jail, mused Yamaichi, who added with a wry smile, Thatís my monument. Yamaichi, 78, was interned at Tule Lake with his family in 1943, when he was 20 years old. He stayed at the camp even after it closed on March 20, 1946, to work for the War Relocation Authority to help make an inventory and do other final tasks. It took 30 years to steel up his nerves and return. The first trip up here was real bad, real emotional, said Yamaichi. I thought it was time I should revisit, make peace with myself. It was kind of traumatic, to walk on the very ground you lived at for three years. You live at a place for three years and you know where everything was. I can almost see the barracks and the people walking. Yamaichi was among the presenters for An American Story, a teacher training workshop held Saturday at Tulelake High School. More than 70 people, including many non-teachers, spent the day hearing from Yamaichi and other Japanese-Americans who were interned at Tule Lake during the World War II years. A busload of workshop attendees also toured the former camp and heard Yamaichiís still-fresh, encyclopedic memories. At its peak the camp housed nearly 19,000 Japanese-Americans plus 2,000 soldiers and 550 workers. Yamaichiís memories are especially poignant because he spent his years working as senior construction foreman, supervising 250 men. He earned his position because he had graduated from San Jose Technical High School in June 1941. Less than a year later he and his family were evacuated to Los Angeles then sent to the Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming before being shuttled to Tule Lake. He worked six or seven days a week, keeping busy and avoiding the malaise that soured into discontent for others internees ineligible for jobs because they couldnít speak English. I enjoyed it, he said of his work, which allowed him access to areas in and outside the camp. I had work to do. I kept quiet. Ironically, Yamaichiís confinement afforded him unique experiences, but also reflected changes that caused upheavals in his and other families. Until being sent to camps, Japanese-American families had typically been strongly directed by fathers. At camp, fathers, often born in Japan and ineligible to seek citizenship, saw the power transfer to their children. Now we come to camp. Weíre the boss, explained Yamaichi, who still speaks some broken English. It was very degrading for them. Theyíre not the ones dishing out the money. The young ones were. It was a very unique job, as young as I was, he said, noting he supervised people old enough to be my brothers, people old enough to be my grandfathers. Confinement in camp, he remembers, created problems, including suicides. One internee laid his head on the railroad tracks just as a train approached. Several hanged themselves. Others joined a group known as Hoshi Dan and staged demonstrations. The WRA provided only the drafty barracks, beds, mattresses and potbelly stoves. Internees were paid $12 a month for unskilled labor, $16 for skilled and $19 for supervisory jobs - I was a $19 man, said Yamaichi. Food was meager. They devoured whatever food they could find or grow. We raised practically every vegetable that can be raised, except tomatoes. He unsuccessfully tried to eat gulls and muskrats, and preferred waterfowl - The honkers were the best to eat. Camp life took on a harder edge in 1944 when Tule Lake was designated a segregation center for no-nos, Japanese-Americans who refused to sign a loyalty oath that many found insulting. Although Yamaichi was a no-no, it did not affect his job. When he left Tule Lake, he returned to San Jose. Like others, Yamaichi was given $25 and a train ticket to the destination of his choice. Unable to find a construction job, he picked fruit for six months until finally getting hired on as a carpenter and getting his long-delayed union card. His family, which like others was given short notice to pack only what they could cary and leave, had stacked their belongings in a single room and padlocked the door. Surprisingly, when they returned they found the lock in place. While living for a time in Los Angeles, he met Eiko, who had lived at Tule Lake with her family. She was a member of the campís first graduating class from Tri-State High School, named because most of internees were from Washington, Oregon and California. She and Yamaichi never knew each other at camp. They were married in 1952 and are the parents of four grown children and have four grandchildren. I have a lot to be grateful for, even if camp life was not what was supposed to be, explained Eiko, who participated in one of the panel discussion groups on Saturday. Her camp memories included having cardboard fitted inside her shoes to help them last longer, and very old clothes. But that was the way it was. Internment made me aware that despite being placed behind barbed wires, the internees were capable of making the best of a very bad situation, that our parents and we Japanese-Americans were creative, ambitious and a resilient group of people. Her husband eventually formed his own business, Yamaichi Construction. His work has taken him around the globe, including Mexico, China, Romania, South America and Germany. With his wife, he is active with the Japanese American Resource Center/Museum [note: this was the former name of JAMsj] and other Japanese-American organizations. He is also working to have 10 acres of the former Tule Lake camp developed into a visitor center/museum. Because of his unusual experience and still-sharp memory, heís become a frequent participant in relocation programs at colleges during the every other year gatherings in Tulelake - the next is set for 2002. We all try to put those dark sides of our lives aside and move on, said Yamaichi of the memories of Tule Lake and the reasons why he has become a spokesman. We all feel an obligation to keep the memories alive. Once those die, it might happen again to other people. Regional Editor Lee Juillerat covers Lake, Siskiyou, Modoc and northern Klamath counties. He can be reached at 885-4421, (800) 275-0982, or by e-mail at ljuillerat@heraldandnews.com. back to top "A Drive to Fill a Gap in History / Japanese Asked for Photos, Stories of Resettlement," by Donna Kato, Mercury News Staff Writer, San Jose Mercury News, July 10, 1999 World War II and the internment years have been the primary focus of Japanese American history, but now a new project will attempt to document the resettlement of those who returned to the Santa Clara Valley after the war or came to the area to start new lives. ''There are very few pictures and artifacts -- like Japantown merchant posters, for example -- from that era,'' said Joe Yasutake, a retired industrial psychologist who is heading the project to collect stories and photographs from 1945 to 1965. 
Project volunteers are searching for links that will help fill that gap in history. They have scheduled two sessions this month for people to bring their pictures and other mementos to be examined.
Interviewers will make copies of the photos -- no originals will be taken -- and spend a few minutes talking to people about their memories and personal insights of their pictures. ''What we find is that the photos and the reactions we hear . . . unveil multiple layers of meaning,'' said Karen Matsuoka, a NASA/Ames graphic artist who is the project's creative director. Many of the photos, artifacts and accompanying stories will become part of an exhibit at San Jose's Japanese American Resource Center/Museum [note: this was the former name of JAMsj] in June. The museum, a work in progress, is appropriately located in the former Japantown residence of Dr. Tokio Ishikawa, once the unofficial historian of the local Japanese American community. Ishikawa, a physician with lifetime ties to San Jose, died two years ago at 88. ''The most interesting period is between 1945 and '55 but we just haven't seen many things to document that time,'' said Yasutake, who offers as an example a 1945 picture of himself as a beaming 12-year-old with his arm around a young man. That man is his older brother, Tosh, who had just returned to the family after serving in the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. ''I was in awe of him because he was a war hero,'' Yasutake said. ''I remember wishing he hadn't taken off his uniform when we took this picture.'' Although San Jose's Japantown played a crucial role after the war for people to reconnect and to begin new lives, Matsuoka said it's vital that the project also gather stories and pictures from people who lived all over the region. The project is also searching for other perspectives on the Japanese American resettlement -- particularly from Latino and white friends and neighbors who may have looked after property during the war years or who offered work and housing. ''We're worried that many people will count themselves out because they don't have a big story to tell, and we're asking that they not decide that in advance,'' said Matsuoka whose own interest in the project started when she lost her grandparents without having heard all of their stories. The resettlement project is financed by a $25,000 grant from the California Civil Liberties Public Education Fund which provides money for educating students about the exclusion, removal and internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II. The fund was created by legislation introduced by Assemblyman Mike Honda, D-San Jose, and signed into law last fall. With help from the community, Yasutake and Matsuoka said, they hope the planned exhibit, ''Completing the Story: A Community Remembers the Resettlement in Santa Clara Valley,'' will give a rich and more complete history of Japanese Americans in Silicon Valley. All content (c) SAN JOSE MERCURY NEWS and may not be republished without permission. All archives are stored on a SAVE (tm) newspaper library system from MediaStream Inc., a Knight-Ridder Inc. company. back to top |
