Densho Digital Archive - Yaeko Yoshihara Interview

<Begin Segment 1>

JN: Let's start by you, perhaps, introducing yourself and telling us a little bit about your family life and what life was like on Bainbridge in 1942, and how old you were at that time.

YY: My name is Yae Sakai Yoshihara. And life on Bainbridge... the earliest recollection is that we lived in this old wooden house. There were, of course, six children. We were on a strawberry farm. And I was the youngest of one brother and four girls, or, four sisters, five girls. At the time of evacuation I was twelve years old. But prior to that time, life on Bainbridge was pretty simple. And even where our house was located, there was no electricity. So, you know, it was pretty primitive... outdoor plumbing, well water, kerosene lamps, wood stove. So it was very simple. Later on, my dad built the house, which is on Madison, North Madison. Anyway, that was back in 1936 and I was in the second grade. We moved to the location where there was electricity. So that was something new for us. And... radio, refrigerator... so, you can see how different life was. Socially, the Japanese, more or less, kind of stuck to themselves. There was a Japanese community... the Japanese Hall where people assembled. There was Japanese language school. And when the kids were in third grade they would start the Japanese language school as a first grader. That's how I began. In the third grade I started Japanese language school. Then with... we played with our friends. In school we mixed... we were able to, you know, on the playground everybody played together. But when it came to kind of group things, it was always with our Japanese friends, and we generally were not invited to the Caucasian parties or homes.

[Interruption]

YY: In the Japanese community at that time, they had... like they would have annual bazaar. And then from time to time, a person from Seattle would bring Japanese movies, so we would watch that. And then sometimes there would be a talent show or some program and the people participated. For some reason I was always nominated to sing. 'Cause I liked to sing. But, I don't know, I just picked to do that. Then the Japanese school would have a program. We had to sing Japanese songs or whatever we learned. Mrs. Ohtaki was very patient with us because she had unruly students to manage and try to teach. And the younger ones did attend Japanese school on Saturdays. The older ones had to work on Saturdays or help on the farm, but the younger ones... so we spent the day, Saturdays, attending language school. And so that was another way of bonding more. Because the houses were spread apart, and we didn't have what you call a "next door neighbor." I mean, you could yell on top of your lungs but the neighbor may not hear you because of the distance. But, when we had time we would go to their house or they would come over to our place to play. But as a whole, we played with the siblings whenever we weren't helping on the farm, because, for the older ones, like my brother had to do the heavier work, help my dad do the heavier work. The older ones did the more complicated work on the farm, like setting the runners and hoeing, whereas the younger ones, we just had to do the weeding by hand, or spread the... not the fertilizer, but the insecticide because there were insects that would eat the plants. Summertime, it was always helping with the strawberry harvesting. We would pick berries and Dad would have us, have our tickets punched, and at the end of the season he would pay us. So that was one way of earning a little money. And then, you know, the people always had problem with our names, and I remember every beginning of the school year with a new teacher, she would go down the list of students and, of course, mispronounce our names, the Japanese names. Of course there'd be laughter, snickering. And we always wished we had American names. So I remember one day, the sisters anyway, the four younger sisters, decided to choose names. And so they picked American names. I picked Shirley because at that time Shirley Temple was very popular, the idol. So I used the name Shirley. However, when I went back to school and asked the teacher to call me Shirley, she says, "No." Because that wasn't what she wanted to call me. And so as time went on, I just didn't use the name. I mean, maybe for a short time and some people did call me Shirley, but it never really stuck. And... I can't remember what else that you would like to...

JN: That's good, thank you.

<Begin Segment 2>

JN: Think back on December 7, 1942, Pearl Harbor day. What do you remember about that day? Where were you?

YY: 1941.

JN: Oh sorry, 1941. Where were you? How did you feel? How did your family react to the news of the war?

YY: You know, the weather was just like this, that day. It was a Sunday and I had arranged with my friend Sally to go bike riding that afternoon and to go to Toshi Yukawa's house, which was further, what, a couple of miles further. And so I met Sally at this particular corner and as we met and we were gonna go on to Toshi's place, these people that lived right there says, "Oh, the neighbors are at war." And I thought, "Neighbors?" Our neighbors were Mikamis and we didn't have any problem. And so we let it go at that and we went on and went to Toshi's, rode the bike and then eventually came home. I came home and I told my sisters and brother that, "This is what those people said." So they put on the radio and hear this news about the Pearl Harbor. And so all afternoon and evening, that's all we heard, the news and how Japan was advancing. It had gone into Thailand and all that. We didn't know what all that meant.

The next day was Monday, we had to go back to school. Well, you know, we felt different. No one had said anything to us, but simply because of who we were, we were very nervous. The teacher explained to the class that we were Americans, we didn't have anything to do with the war. But, nevertheless, we felt a little bit uneasy. But as time went on, the students and the teachers were more accepting and we went on our usual activities. But you know, it wasn't very long. In fact, in the beginning of January when this news commentator on the radio started talking about moving the Japanese from the West Coast because they were a threat and all this and that started this talk of evacuation. That was the very preliminary. The other people, business people, all joined in. So that was the growing sentiment.

<Begin Segment 3>

YY: But you know, it was only a matter of weeks... early part of January, when the FBI came to the house and the property to inspect, to search for any contrabands, which was shortwave radio, any weapons, dynamite, flashlights, cameras, other items which they felt that the Japanese might use to aid the enemy. But I still remember them going through the barn and through the house and all over. I don't know, I can't remember if they confiscated anything or not, 'cause we didn't have shortwave radio or anything like that. It was in February that the FBI came back again to interrogate my dad. I could still see him sitting there in the living room and they're questioning him about his activities and all. And he says, "As long as I'm in America, I'm loyal to America." I can still hear him say that. Well, they took him anyway, and that added to our fear. We didn't know what was gonna go on. An hour later we heard somebody knocking on the front door and we were frightened and here my dad had come back. They did not detain him, so we were quite relieved. And he wanted to prove his loyalty. At that time, we had dual citizenship, but he took care of that. He cancelled the Japanese citizenship and also he bought war bonds for each child. In other ways he wanted us to cooperate with whatever that was asked of us to do. It was actually right before the executive order was issued by Franklin Roosevelt that there was this talk about we were gonna be removed from the West Coast. But we didn't know prior to that time who would be removed, just the aliens or the citizens, everybody. And then, where would we go?

Then when... so there were all these questions. But in the meantime, interestingly enough, Tosh and Kay were attending the JACL meetings and they were held, I think, on a weekly basis. They were quite faithful in participating in that. I don't know what all went on, but they did attend those meetings. Actually, we had only about six days of official notice to leave the island. And those were posted. It's not like e-mail or telephone or anything. They were actual written notices posted on buildings and telephone poles around the island to say you must leave the island by March 30th. Just several days prior, my dad went to Wenatchee and I believe he must have gone to see if he could possibly move the family to a safer place. But then he came back the following day and nothing came of it. But I think that's what he had in mind. After the official notice, we didn't have suitcases because we really hadn't traveled or anything. But there were people in the community who donated suitcases so that we would have something to put it in our belongings. We didn't know what to take, what to pack. I mean, did we need kitchen utensils? Did we need other things? As it turned out, it was mainly personal items, you know, your clothing and your personal toiletries and those things that we ended up taking... only what we could carry, what each person could carry. Not knowing where we were going was the biggest question in our minds. I mean, we were going somewhere, but where? And they didn't tell us.

<Begin Segment 4>

YY: On March 30th, that morning, at nine o'clock, the soldiers came. They went to each house at the same time, so there was a big army convoy truck that came to pick up each family. And so at nine o'clock we had to be ready. Oh, excuse me, just prior to that time, my parents had to arrange who would take care of the farm. And that was the year when the strawberries were early. It was doing beautifully, there were flowers on the bushes, and it was gonna be a bumper crop. It was so sad to have to leave that and fortunately my dad was able to get one of his Filipino workers to take over the farm. So Pete Garcia took over the farm and took care of the harvest and managed during our absence. They also needed someone to rent the house. So this lady and her son rented the house and stayed there during the war years. But anyway, when we were picked up on that March 30th, then, of course we went to the Eagledale dock. There was about an hour or so. Many people came to say goodbye -- especially the older ones who could drive -- to say goodbye to their classmates. There were a lot of hugs and tears.

And so at eleven o'clock we boarded the ferry. When we got to Colman dock, they marched us off, and I could see on that overhead, overpass by Colman dock, they were loaded with people who was watching what was going on. Then we, of course, had to board the train. It took us... it was basically three days and two nights on that train as we headed south. I guess there was a time where they pulled the shades so we wouldn't see. But actually, I don't remember that much because we were looking out the window and seeing the places that we were going to. So it was on April Fool's Day in the morning, and we reached Mojave, the town of Mojave. That's where our train ride ended and we were herded onto buses. It took almost four hours to get to Manzanar, and it was a hot, dry, winding road. Because we reached Manzanar a little bit after twelve o'clock, at noon. It was dry, dusty. Manzanar was just in the process of being built. So first thing they did was, after we got off, and then they took us to the mess hall, because it was lunchtime. We had lunch and then we were issued, assigned our quarters, which was one room. They told us, "Here's this canvas ticking. Go fill it with straw. That's your mattress." So, that's what we did. We each had an army cot, and each person was given two army blankets. But the rooms were bare and it had one oil heater and one light bulb dangling from the ceiling, and no tables, no chairs. Then we had to make the best of what was there in the beginning. At that time too, there were other people coming in. Like people from L.A., that area. I remember the next day, we had to all line up for our typhoid shot because that was, because of the water change, the climate change, everyone had to have their typhoid shot. The place was different and... dust, a lot of dust storms and scorpions. [Laughs] So we had to be careful because I remember walking into the community bathroom and there was a scorpion right there on the floor.

The facilities and of course our unit, no privacy. And there were rows of toilets with no partition, no doors, and then an area for showers. There were about eight showerheads, no curtains, no privacy. You were open to the public. They had, of course, one for the women and the other for the men. This is all in one block, and each block had a similar setup. And then the dining hall: it was, of course, cafeteria style and all, but the thing is, when we ate, we ate with friends. And so we didn't eat with our families. It kind of broke down that family unit, unless the children were small. Like I ate with my friends and so did my sister. She ate with her friends and so it did change family life. When we went there eventually different services were provided, but there was no school. We played a lot, we visited a lot, we made new friends. Eventually there were clubs, classes, and they even provided piano lessons. This lady who taught the piano was a professional. And so a group of us would go to lessons. The problem is we really didn't have a piano to practice, you know, hardly. But we got a lot of theory. Eventually there was tap dancing. The older ones found jobs, they worked. It was a long summer. Perhaps you remember my sister, Nobi, saying that her class of thirteen had to complete their schoolwork in order to receive their high school diploma. That occurred in June after they finished their coursework. But for the rest of us, we spent the summer playing a lot. That's one place that two of my friends said, "Oh, we're going to Sunday school." And you know, we had nothing better to do so the others kind of tagged along, and that's when I started to go to church. At Sunday school I learned a lot. I was like a blotter that absorbed all this because my parents were Buddhists. I knew very little about Christianity, but I really enjoyed it and that's how I became a Christian even when my parents wanted me to go to the Buddhist church which opened up. I never did turn back. Then since we had missed two months of schooling on Bainbridge, in late August we were given books to study and we received help from the older people to make up the work in math, science, English and so forth. They tested us and so forth, and that way we completed our seventh grade, for me and my friends.

<Begin Segment 5>

YY: Now, talking about friends, when we went to... well, what happened is that while we were in the seventh grade, that year before Pearl Harbor, all the seventh graders on the island were sent to Lincoln school. Lincoln school was a small enough school that there was only one class per grade. But the seventh grade, they had two seventh grade classes. The other came from Pleasant Beach school. It must have been overcrowding or whatever, but they decided to have two seventh grade classes. Toshi and Kiyo were from Pleasant Beach school and they were in that other seventh grade and there were the five of us girls that were in the regular, you know, the regular seventh grade. So we knew each other from a young age, but we were not that close of friends until we got to Manzanar. Because we had this time we could spend together, you know, we were same age, same class, that we bonded. And so we started doing everything together, eating together, going to church together, fellowship, concerts, classes, playing at the rec hall, just having a good time. Then eventually, people saw, and someone, I don't remember who, started referring to us as the 7-Ups and the name stuck. We did... I remember though, we did keep in touch with the friends on Bainbridge, classmates. Even the soldiers who guarded us on the train... and we wrote letters. They sent us pictures. [Laughs] I still have them. But the classmates were faithful and they did write. Eventually it kind of tapered off. But interestingly enough, we started to receive letters from the outside world, too. But that came a little later. In Manzanar, after we finished our seventh grade work, then the school did not open until the middle of October. So there was a big span there. And then we started as eighth graders.

<Begin Segment 6>

YY: Then it was that fateful day, December 6, 1942. Tension was building up in Manzanar and it was... there was discontent, especially among the Kibeis, those who were American born but educated in Japan. They, because they were indoctrinated in Japan, they had this loyalty to Japan. So there was this friction between the loyal and the disloyal Japanese there in camp. And that came to a head and there was a riot that evening, or that day. There was a lot of tension. I can still remember this big brawl because we were in Block 3 and all this took place just several, two blocks down the way. We could hear the noise. Pretty soon there was a truckload of these Kibeis and they were singing the Japan National Anthem, Kimigayo, you could hear that, and we heard some gunshots. Well, one person was killed and another wounded. Then it was... martial law was instituted and so everything closed down. They had to shut everything down except the basic services, the hospitals and the post office and all, and the churches were allowed to remain open, but other assembly was not permitted. And so here we had another break from school. Then this took us into... but, oh, excuse me, prior to that time, they were, because of the manpower shortage, they were permitting young able men to leave camp to go to, like, Montana, Idaho, to help with harvest. So my brother Tosh went with his friends and they went to Montana to do sugar beet topping. They were there a month and then they returned to Manzanar.

Schools finally opened again, I believe in January, later in January. Then, because the Bainbridge people feared about this tension and all, they requested transfer to Hunt, Idaho. So that occurred on February 24, 1943, that most, not all, went to Minidoka. When we got there it was basically the same setup, the same rules and meeting new people, going to school, doing different activities. However, by that time, things were pretty, things were beginning to loosen up a little bit. People were permitted to get day passes to go to Twin Falls to shop or go see a movie or whatever. And then of course you have to come back, but there was a bus service that went to... back and forth. The one thing is that we had... thing that was different over there, there was this canal. We went swimming in that canal which is really very dangerous because there was big drop-offs, and if you couldn't swim and you went into one of those drop-offs, you could drown. And a person did drown in that canal, but we were young and daring. The first summer in Idaho we went to vacation bible school, that summer. And the following summer, there was -- because the older ones were leaving camp by that time, some of them were going out to work, relocate permanently. There were others who were... wanted to go to school -- there was a shortage of manpower. So they sent out notices saying, "We need nurse's aides." So my friend Yuri and I signed up. And here we were mere fourteen, fourteen going on fifteen. They gave us training for two weeks. They taught us how to make beds, how to take care of patients, and all that, and how to read these medical terms in shorthand. So that summer, she and I worked at the hospital. And that was good experience because I had much earlier decided I wanted to be a nurse and this was a wonderful opportunity. So I really enjoyed that. Then of course when school started again in the fall, I had to go back to school.

Interestingly enough, in Idaho, because of the manpower shortage on all the farms in that area, they closed the school for six weeks, October through part of November, and giving the able persons to go out and help with the harvest, in apple picking, onion topping, picking potatoes. So the 7-Ups went out and that's what we did. We stayed at a camp bunkhouse in Twin Falls. Toshi's mother went with us, she became our cook. Then every morning the farmers would come, pick us up, and take us to the farm where we would work and earn some money, which was great. Then, that was over, we went back to school, returned to camp and went back to school.

<Begin Segment 7>

YY: The following summer, in 1945, or even prior to the summer vacation, Sally and I worked at our office, the Evacuee Property Office, which took care... you know, people would send forth their goods or whatever they left in storage and I would, we would write letters to have them sent over. So that was good experience, just working in this little office. By that time, that was 1945, we were... the West Coast had opened up. And so we had to think about school, the camp was gonna close. So we made arrangements to leave camp. By that time, you know, Kay was married, she had her own family. Nobi and Ty had gone to Minneapolis to go to school and work. And so Tosh was, he had been in the army, got sick, and then he was in the VA hospital. So it was only Chiyo and myself and my dad and mom that returned to Bainbridge. We were scheduled to leave on August 15th, but then that was VJ day, when Japan surrendered. So they postponed our departure twenty-four hours. So it was the following day that we finally left Hunt -- Minidoka. It was... I think it took us two days, one night and get back to Seattle. And fortunately there was someone to come pick us up at the ferry. Mr. and Mrs. Moji had dinner for us and the tenant was still in our house. So we stayed with Sally Yamashita's home. It was only, three of the children and mother that was there. So we stayed with them for several, several days. But you know, my father was getting anxious and the lady wasn't ready to move out of the house, and so we got permission to live in the basement. She gave permission for us to do that. So that's what we did. Of course we had to use the outhouse and the Nihonburo, the Japanese bath, that was still there. So that's where we stayed. We lived in that basement for about six weeks before she finally moved out. I mean, we put pressure on her, but there was a housing shortage. So she was in a bind too, but she did finally move out and we were able to get back into the house.

The house was fine, but the yard and the farm was a total mess. We spent just days and weeks weeding around the house, around the barn, and out in the field. It was... because Pete, who took care of the farm couldn't manage all that by himself. And so we spent a long time pulling weeds, and they were about five feet tall, I mean, they were taller than I was. We were on our hands and knees pulling all that weed, and eventually we got the farm going, but there wasn't a whole lot to salvage because the plants were old and they had to be replanted and all. I was so happy to be able to go back to Bainbridge High School and be greeted by my childhood classmates. They welcomed us back. Of course, there were new people too, but we didn't encounter any bad situation. We were able to get into the activities and in our schoolwork. 'Cause that was my dream and prayer, that I would be able to graduate from Bainbridge High School, which I did in 1947.

JN: Seventh grade is such an impressionable time. Did you have different kinds of feelings than maybe your sisters as far as what was going on there or did the fact that you had seven friends kind of keep you pretty content?

YY: You know, my friends really... I think that really shaped my life because I could never say I was lonely or friendless. You know, some people say they're lonely or nobody to play with and all, but I never felt that way. I think in a way it gave me a sense of security too, I always had friends. We had our squabbles, we had our disagreements, and sometimes we weren't kind to each other, but those are teenagers. Basically it's a friendship that has endured. We shared so much. Even, as the years went on, we were in each other's weddings and baby showers, things like that. It's made a big difference in our life and I think as a seventh grader, we were thinking, "Oh, it's like an adventure. We're gonna see something else." Whereas I can imagine what my parents were thinking. They had all this property and things to take care of. So, I think it was a different... simply because of our youth, our age. We didn't think about the finances or economic implications and all.

<Begin Segment 8>

JN: Your brother, Tosh, served in the... during the war. Do you remember what that, how that affected your family? What were some of the conversations, being that he was the only son and he was going to fight in the war?

YY: You know, I really can't remember. Now Kay thought he volunteered, but I don't think so. I think by that time they were, it was a draft. But I can't remember exactly and Kay was already married too, by that time. Because, I think she just had gotten married. But anyway, he went in and he went to boot camp and then he went to Military Intelligence at Fort Snelling. It wasn't too many months after that that he became ill. He contracted TB. And so of course then that was a medical discharge and he was sent to the VA hospital. That's the same thing that happened to my husband too. He was at that same school and he came down with TB and got sent to the same hospital and that's where they met, my brother and Bob met there on the same circumstances. But in those days TB was like a death sentence and that's what upset my parents the most, that they thought he would be forever, have this chronic illness and all that. So that was their worry. However, as time went on -- and he was gone about three years, you know, in those days. Bob too, they were hospitalized for a long time. It was mainly rest, good food, and then medication was just coming on to treat it. They had to take pills or whatever. Now it's a different story. But in those days... and then the Japanese had, especially the Isseis, the fear of the illness, thinking that the whole family was gonna get it. It is contagious, but with isolation, with proper care, everyone doesn't have to catch it. So that kind of changed their, my parents' thinking, and at least they weren't worried about him going to the front lines and gettin' killed or maimed. So his story is a little different. And then coming back to my brother, people knew him as Paul. But you know, he had converted to becoming a Catholic. So he took on Paul as his baptism name, so that's how he got the name. Then when he was confirmed, he took the name Joseph, so he was Paul Joseph, Toshio Paul Joseph Sakai. Yeah, and his girlfriend at the time was Catholic and that's how he converted. But he did not marry that person. You know, of course he married Kim later on.

JN: After the war, what did your family do? What was it like when you returned? You kind of mentioned that already, and how you were treated, and... what, besides the fact that you couldn't live in your own home for a while, did they eventually get all their property back and did anybody help them along the way?

YY: Fortunately we stored a lot of things in one of the rooms upstairs. So we didn't have a storage problem and the lady didn't touch it or anything. She just mainly just kept to her area, and so that was not a problem for us. Because we owned the property, we had a place to come home to, whereas a lot of people did not. They were leasing their property and were not able to come back. So in a lot of ways we were fortunate in that way.

<Begin Segment 9>

JN: After thoughts. Today, how do you feel about the memorial and what happened to your family during World War II? You kind of suggested that it shaped your life. What... how do you think it really shaped your adult life and how you, how you raised your children?

YY: In looking back, and simply from growing older and having more life experiences and learning what's going on in the world, how people are treated, civil rights and all... it was injustice. You know, when you think of it. We were not given due process. I mean, you were... and President Roosevelt just invoked his emergency powers to... however, he was pressured by the public, especially those who were jealous of the Japanese successful in farming in arid areas. They irrigated and got productive farms, and it was economic competition. So that brought to bear... and there was a lot of discrimination and prejudice in California, which kind of shaped this whole thing, I believe. A lot more pressure there than in Oregon and Washington. So... and at that time, there were civil rights laws, maybe not the way it is today, but they didn't invoke those laws. The general sentiment was anti-Japanese, so people did not support us. Even, they talk about the "Quiet Americans"... and people today say, "Well, why didn't you speak up? Why didn't you fight it?" But the climate at that time didn't permit us to do that. I mean, who would support us except very few like Walt Woodward and Milly and maybe some church groups, but not enough to make the difference.

The other thing is the government kept it pretty hush-hush. People didn't know in the Midwest, back east, what was going on. I had met people in more recent years and when I tell them about the evacuation, oh, they didn't know anything about it. I mean, this one lady who came from Montana didn't know anything about it. More recently, this social studies teacher at one of, the high school where I work, and he was young, starting out, but he taught social studies and he was from Olympia, we got to talking one time, just informally. When I mentioned about my background and all that and about the evacuation, his ears perked up and he said, "You're the first person that I ever have known to have gone through this, the evacuation." Then, so he invited me to talk to his social studies class, classes, which I did. Since, after that, I talked to the other social studies teacher, the language arts teacher, you know, just to share, because they don't know what went on. The other interesting thing is, this one nurse that I worked with trained in Minneapolis, this Caucasian gal. She said while she was in training she noticed these Japanese girls coming into training. She didn't know where they were coming from and she finally found out why they were there. Because they didn't have Asians back there. I can't remember if it was Saint Mary's in Rochester or Minneapolis. Anyway, there. So it's interesting that Americans did not know.

The other thing is when we were in Idaho, at church, they said, "If you would like to receive letters from people on the outside, sign up on this sheet." So we signed up and eventually I started to get letters from all over the country, pen pals. And so that way we communicated and they knew we were in camp and all. Many of 'em, over the years, dropped out, lost interest, whatever. But this one lady wrote to me faithfully and eventually the letters stopped because I think maybe she got too old and got ill or passed away. This other person who was maybe a year younger than myself kept writing and we wrote just simple letters. Then she got married, had kids, I got married and had kids. One year, in '72, we went back East to Virginia to visit Bob's family and then we went into Pennsylvania to meet her and visit and we stayed with her for a couple nights, got acquainted. They took us around the Amish country, Lancaster and Philadelphia and all. So that's where we met face to face. And that was a pen pal. She wrote to me until she passed away.

JN: That's great.

YY: And there were people from different churches that would send us, like, gifts, you know, Christmas gifts. That was really appreciated because somebody on the outside was even aware and thinking about us.

JN: What would you like to say to the visitors of the memorial?

YY: Most of all, it really happened, and these are the things that happened to real people who had homes and property, you know, community. And I say to myself, what if someone said to me, "Okay, you have one week to dispose of your property and get out?" How would I feel? How would I manage? This is what our parents had to go through. They had a lot at stake. So, be more aware of civil rights and that this is a part of history, American history, that was... should not be forgotten, and that people need to know about this. It's just like when some people say, "The Holocaust never happened." Well, this is what they think about the internment. Did it really happen? Why is it important? Why do you keep talking about it? But you can't erase what happened in history.

JN: Yeah, and human nature makes... unless you get reminded often, it comes back again doesn't it?

YY: And we tend to forget, you know? I think we... and, basically what happened, it was racial profiling. That term wasn't there then, but it sure is today. That is what happened. Just because of your face... there was this one Chinese man, after Pearl Harbor, that was found dead in the alley in the International District because somebody thought he was Japanese. But it was a Chinese man that was killed. It was by face.

<Begin Segment 10>

JN: Thank you. Are, is there... is there anything else you want to say or add to this? You did a great job just flowing that I really didn't ask any questions and I don't know...

YY: When people came back, and there was some college graduates who couldn't find jobs because of discrimination. People that wanted to work, say at Bon Marche or Frederick and Nelson store, they could not be cashiers or clerks because "the public wouldn't like an Asian to be serving them." So the women found jobs as, maybe, alteration person, or the men was in the stock room, you know, that type of job. So it was much later that they accepted non-white people to serve in the public. Even when Bob graduated from UW in accounting, the big accounting firms wouldn't even accept an application. I mean, "Don't bother." And yet, a generation later, our son, who graduated accounting, got hired by Arthur Andersen. It's one generation difference. And teachers, it was very difficult for teachers, like Japanese, to find jobs because they didn't want an Asian face in the classroom. Look how that has changed. It's, is it civil rights? Is it more acceptance? Whatever it is, the world has changed in that respect.

JN: Did you become a nurse then, after that? Or did you...

YY: Yes. After I graduated from high school, then I went to Seattle Pacific for my pre-nursing, and then transferred to the UW and their nursing program and graduated, and had no problem finding a job. Swedish just hired me on, so that was no problem. Eventually... oh, many of the Niseis, women who came back they did what the newer immigrants are doing, working in the sewing. Like there was the Sunset Sewing and all these different places. But... and they did housework. Even myself, I did housework to earn my room and board when I went to school. But it was a good learning experience, too, because of our limited background and American way of doing things, you know, homemaking and all. It was a learning experience. I chuckle when I talked to one lady who was from Kingston, and she said that that's what she did. She worked in a home and that's where she learned, like, American etiquette and cooking and all that. So, in a way, it was beneficial. Other people were, this particular family, was very kind to me, helped me, and all that too. It was good.

JN: Your family is famous for showing the value of education and your parents just brought that out a lot. Do you want to tell us a little bit about what, what you remember about them valuing that, that part of your growing up?

YY: I could hear my dad saying, "You study hard. If you flunk you're gonna quit school and work on the farm." Well, that was a big threat. We didn't want to do that. But you probably heard too how this thing came about about the school property. I was a senior in high school and Superintendent Thordorson approached me -- 'cause I worked in the office during my free period just to help the secretary or the office person -- and he came to me and said, "When you go home, ask your dad if he would sell us this property." That's the one where Commodore sits. I says well, okay. So when I went home I asked my dad. He had a feeling that the school may want that property because it was adjacent to the high school property. We used to kind of imagine, "Yeah, wouldn't it be something if there was a school there?" Well that's what happened so they talked it over and then he ended up selling that property. That's how it came about on this simple request. [Laughs.]

JN: Through you.

YY: Yeah. And then eventually, they bought the adjacent -- after the initial parcel -- they bought the adjacent one where the house used to be. Then when Tosh moved across the street, built the house... where Ordway sits and the administration building, that used to be our farm. So, there's a lot of history there. Then they didn't name the school there. They chose Ordway for that particular site. So I think over the years somehow it came about that this new school, at least, it was one of the candidates, shall we say. So, my parents I think would be pretty, kind of shocked that this had come about. But it's an honor too. The way we feel, it's not just because it's Sakai, but it's the whole community. They just represent the community. So that's the way I look at it, anyway. And I believe that the Bainbridge Island Japanese community has really come together to do this major project about preserving history, about preserving the community. And then now this big, big project. And it's a, I feel it's a tribute to the people who want to preserve this important piece of history.