<Begin Segment 24>

MA: Can you talk about the Manzanar pilgrimage of 1971 and the influence it had on you?

YK: I remember when people were talking about going to Manzanar, which was something very new, the idea. And I thought, "How wonderful to actually go back to one of the camps, and to reflect on what Japanese people had gone through." And I think people were really excited. And I remember my husband and I, we were in California then, and we signed up to go. And as we went, as we got way out there into the, after you pass all the cities and towns and all that, and then you go into like a, it seemed like you go through a desert to get to Manzanar. And it made us think, "Gee, to think they made these camps way out in nowhere." I said, "Gee, the U.S. government certainly thinks of everything." That if it's way out like this, if you ever escape, you could die before you could find your way back. And, too, since all the camps were in very forlorn places, if it wasn't a swamp it was a salt flat or a forest or what, they really knew where to put these camps. And as we got closer, and especially Manzanar, you go through all that desert-like areas and you think, "My gosh." You're thinking, wow, we didn't realize when we were in camp that we were out so far where people really couldn't reach us. And to think they would pick out places that they're not gonna do much building and stuff there, it's because it's too far out. And yet I thought, anywhere you make a, even if it's sort of like an artificial town or camp, you have to have certain things. You have to have water, you have to have electricity, you have to have minimum accommodations or be able to do things, the technological kind of things to set up a camp. And so I remember as we went into Manzanar, I think all of us had the same kind of feelings, that gee, I guess they really wanted to punish Japanese Americans. Why way out here where no one could know what kind of a life we were going to live? And I think the only thing that might have been left in Manzanar, I think there was a tombstone, or I think it was the only thing, there was tombstone. We went to the... 'cause I took a picture of this... was there, I'm trying to think, was there graves? I think there were graves, but I remember seeing the tombstone. And I think the only thing that was left was a graveyard. And someone said probably that's the only thing that's left in all the camps. Because there were no barracks, it didn't look like the camps as remember them, because nothing was there. They were, I think, all torn down. But I think it was, in a way, nice to go back just to see what kind of place we had spent several years.

And there were people who brought, I think, grandchildren, 'cause they were young. And the grandparents were telling their grandchildren, "This is where we Japanese people had to go during the war." And I think they wanted the little ones to ask questions because they didn't know anything. And this was the first time, and maybe it might be the last time that they would be in one of these camps. And I'm sure the little ones who were old enough must have thought to themselves, "Oh, my gosh. It must have been tough back then."

It was, I think, very well-organized. I think it was organized in Los Angeles. We were lucky that I think we had come out to California to visit our families, and it was just by luck that we heard about this Manzanar trip and we were able to go. I think we were all on a bus. 'Cause I don't think we were in a car, I think it was a bus. And there were people of all ages. And there was only one family, I still remember, because I took a picture. I guess they were the grandparents, but I thought they were the same age as my husband and I. But I remember the woman was white, the guy was Japanese, and this one kid who was, I think he told me he was six years old only, he looked sort of Chicano. And I wondered, I wonder what this six-year-old kid would think. That I guess his grandparents must have wanted him to see what Manzanar is. And I got interested in this little kid, and I wrote to him for several years, until he was... he was very young. I was surprised that he could write. I think he was only, he was under eight, so he had to be seven, maybe. But I was surprised he could write, and even asked, you know, reasonable questions. And, in fact, I've kept his picture and I took a picture of the grandparents. I've never, I've never run into them, but I said I'm going to keep the picture. Because one day, I hope I run into them, that I could give them the picture, especially to the little kid. And to see what he remembers, 'cause he must now be in this twenties, maybe, and it would be interesting. But I think the Manzanar... what do they call it?

MA: The pilgrimage.

YK: Pilgrimages, yes. These Manzanar pilgrimages were really good for the Japanese Americans, and I think a lot of non-Japanese whether out of curiosity or sympathy or what. They went, too, and I think they got something out of it that I'll bet you they didn't know what Japanese went through.

MA: So it seems like a good way to educate a community and also outside, people outside of the communities.

YK: Right. I wish some of the non-Japanese, hakujins from our hometown, would have gone. I'm sure they don't know. I remember when we came back, they just said, "Where did Japanese go?" In fact, though, actually, the first ones we met, my older brother was a -- and these Americans who came over, 'cause we hadn't been home for years -- they asked us, "Where did," -- they used the word "Japs" I remember -- "Where'd you Japs go?" And my brother looked at me right away as if to say, "Don't get upset. Let's make it a friendly visit." So I didn't say anything. I was going to tell them, "Did you say the word 'Japs'? I don't think that's a nice word." But I didn't say anything 'cause my brother didn't want an argument to start when they had finally gotten back to California. But I hope Californians have changed and maybe feel bad that that happened to the Japanese.

<End Segment 24> - Copyright © 2009 Densho. All Rights Reserved.