<Begin Segment 20>

MN: Okay, Tom, is there anything else you want to add? I've asked my questions.

TS: No. I don't know what I can add. There's probably a lot I can say, but probably better not, better not said.

MN: For example?

TS: My protesting of our internment to hakujin teachers. I didn't think they thought too much of me because I was always speakin' out against the internment. That wasn't a happy episode in my life because they were always down on me. They said, "You're always mouthin' off about this thing." I don't know what they expect me to say. "Hey, this is a wonderful experience"? I refused to say that.

MN: And you're talking about, this was in camp?

TS: In camp, (yes).

MN: But they didn't kick you out of camp school?

TS: No, nobody ever kicked me out, although I don't think they appreciated me too much because I was writing essays and things about what a horrible experience it was, and for someone to ask me "who made you write this" or something, that was insulting. I said, "I'm thirteen," I said, "I should know whether I'm a prisoner or not." Expect me not to know that I was a prisoner? So that offended me quite a bit.

MN: Did you keep any of your essays?

TS: No, I didn't keep anything. But I also offended a lot of hakujin teachers, when I wrote, for them to ask me, "Who made you write this?" That was very offensive. Nobody was telling anything about writing this or not writing. It was, they said write something, I figured they wanted my real feelings, not what somebody told me, but they didn't appreciate my writings. I didn't care whether they appreciated my writings or not. I just didn't care about those people (who) were our teachers.

MN: Now, where did you get the sense of right and wrong? Was it something you learned at school while you were living in Los Angeles?

TS: Yes. (The) minute they put us in the camp I said, "This is wrong." I said, "(...) If you drug the Isseis in here it's different matter, but," I said, "You got citizens here. We should be treated just like the white man." That was my position. That didn't go over well with (...) the white people. Japanese guys (said), "Hey, you're mouthing off too much." I'm just saying what I want to say, that's all. What could they do, I said, "What can they do to me? Put me to another camp? Tule Lake? (Yes), could you send me to Tule Lake?" So that was my feeling. So I must've been a headache for some of my teachers, to be raising all these issues. I should've kept my mouth shut. So anyway, poor Margaret L. Hopcraft from New Mexico, she had to put up with me for I don't know how many years. She's a good woman.

MN: But she didn't understand.

TS: (What)?

MN: She didn't understand your position.

TS: She didn't understand what I was saying. She thought I was unreasonable about complaining about being in camp. But I felt that maybe you would've done the same thing, although I don't know of anybody else that was complaining to them. In my class, (nobody) was complaining, they were all having too much fun going to the dances and all that. And I had a mother who said that dancing was evil. Maybe that's why I didn't go to the dances. My mother told me dancing's evil. "It's evil for what?" "You're hanging onto a girl." If I wanted to be evil I wouldn't be doing it on a dance floor. [Laughs] Anyway, so you can see my life with my mother was quite contentious. She was a strong woman, but she said her opinion, and I didn't agree with her. And my father never said anything. But I told you about this guy, the lieutenant commander and after the war he was a farmer.

MN: Your mother's cousin? Ishihata.

TS: (Yes), he was a farmer. Well, anyway, I don't know what else I can say about that. Probably could say a lot, but I, my memory is getting bad (...). This interview probably should've taken fifteen, twenty years ago. I could've given you all the blow by blow, dirty shots of everything and I could have named names. This woman that was a sexpot in our block, I think her name Miyo Osako. I believe that was her name, and her husband was always working outside of camp. And I always was asking other guys, says, "Does that guy know what his wife's doing here?" They say, "Oh, yeah, he just wanted to get away from her." [Laughs] Get away from her. I don't know if they ever divorced or what.

MN: I wouldn't be surprised.

TS: (Yes).

MN: I mean, with all the sleepin' around, was, were you aware of abortions?

TS: No, I don't... it's too bad. I'll remember all kinds of things that would be interesting after we leave, but --

MN: You could always come back.

TS: No. I got some nasty stuff to say, so I'm, better not, probably better not to say it.

MN: Are you talking about the JACL?

TS: No, the people in camp. Things about the sexual behavior, a lot of people in camp.

MN: Well, you don't have to name names.

TS: I'll think about it. I'll really think about it.

MN: Okay.

TS: But I admire this one woman, hakujin woman that lived in our barrack. She came to camp with her Issei husband, and I really admire her. Very few hakujin women came to camp, but she did and she stayed 'til the end. And I saw her after the war, very pleasant woman. Nice lookin' woman, very shapely, well built, tall, but I thought her husband was a heel, a real heel. I had a lot of opinions of people. There's a (...) married lady but her husband was in Japan, across the next barrack, and this well known guy from J-town used to come to see her all the time, dressed in an immaculate suit. I think I told you about him. Everybody in the block knew what he was coming there for, including her children who were peeking in on the window while they were having sex. (...) I think this was going around a lot in that camp. That's the kind of thing you won't hear in the history books. I don't think you want to hear that.

MN: But it makes us human.

TS: What's that?

MN: It makes us human.

TS: Yeah, they sure were.

MN: Okay, Tom.

TS: I don't want to say too much more.

MN: Thank you very much.

TS: You're welcome.

<End Segment 20> - Copyright © 2010 Densho. All Rights Reserved.