Densho Digital Archive - Lilly Kodama Interview

<Begin Segment 1>

JN: Okay, let's start first by telling us who you are and how old you were, you were when, in 1942.

LK: I'm Lilly Kodama, and I was seven and a half in 1942, just when we were relocated.

JN: Okay, tell us about your family in 1942, their names, their ages, your parents, your brothers and sisters.

LK: I don't know if I could tell you the ages, but my mother and father and I was the oldest. Well, I guess I can, because there's supposedly two years between all four of the siblings. I was the oldest, that's seven, and my brother... my sister Frances was next and then my brother Frank, and then my youngest sister, Jane. And she was just, I think, nine months old.

JN: And your parents, what were their names?

LK: Shigeko and Frank Kitamoto. I guess I should tell you my maiden name. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 2>

JN: Describe what your day-to-day life was like on Bainbridge Island prior to the war.

LK: Day to day life... I remember, I remember feeding chickens and going out in the field and watching my mother working and my aunt who lived with us sometimes. And we had asparagus, I remember that. And in one of the sheds they'd bring in the asparagus and they'd put them together in little... there was a trough or a tray with water in it where they put the asparagus, and I remember standing and watching them put the, fix the asparagus ready for market. What other... oh, we had a swing in the backyard, and we had a sandbox, and I could remember playing in the sandbox. Oh, and I remember hanging clothes on the clothesline to dry. Or watching... I don't think I worked so much as played. It was a typical little kid's childhood, I think, before the war, you mean? Yeah.

JN: Did you live in this house?

LK: We lived in this house. I was born in this house, all my siblings were born in this house, one of my aunts was born in this house. Oh, and my uncle was born in this house, the two youngest of my mother's siblings.

JN: Where did you attend school and what was that like?

LK: I went to Pleasant Beach school, grade school, and it's, I think now it's an assisted... I mean, it's not a retirement home. I think it's a home for... I'm not sure what. But it's across from the Lynwood Theater, right there next to the, what used to be a restaurant there. It was the Olsen's home and I remember peering through the hedges at the house. But what I remember about Pleasant Beach school is this humongous rock that was right in the front of it. I think it's still there, and we used to climb on it at recess time. And there's a big crack in the rock, and my shoe got caught in that crack. And that's what I remember about Pleasant Beach school is that the, the bell rang that recess was over and I couldn't get my shoe out of that crack and I left that shoe in there and ran to class. But I got the shoe back after school.

JN: How did you get to school?

LK: On school bus.

JN: What sort of things did your family do for fun?

LK: I don't remember anything so much as vacations. I don't think we took vacations and trips. What we did was visit other families, whether it was for New Year's or Christmas. It wasn't... but after, as we got older, after the war I remember going to Mount Rainier and I think we had one infamous camping trip and my father was driving and it got late and we couldn't find a place to camp. And I remember we pitched a tent out in some pasture and we had to watch out for cow dung and everybody was complaining, but that was the extent of our vacation. [Laughs]

JN: But around here you just made, made things with what you had around to have fun?

LK: We did. Are you talking about after the war?

JN: Before the war.

LK: Oh, before the war. Before the war, yeah, I don't remember any kind of a special trip or anything like that.

JN: Do you remember any community events? You were quite young.

LK: I was quite young and, see, I can't remember if this was before or after... I think it must have been before. But I remember going to, it must have been an all-island picnic, and it was at the Fletcher's Bay, I think it was called a park. And there was a big hall there, and they had a picnic outside, and it was all the Japanese families were there.

JN: Did your family attend church?

LK: Yes, we... the Japanese Baptist Church missionaries and minister would come to the island to have service after the regular service on Sunday, and so we went to Sunday school. And it was at this building that is now part of the Nakata family, I think. It's down in the dip where the... it's by the Yoshidas... between the Yoshidas and the Nakatas. We used to go there for Sunday school.

<Begin Segment 3>

JN: Think back to February 7th, I mean, December 7th, (1941), I'm sorry... Pearl Harbor day. What do you remember about that day? Where were you? How did you feel?

LK: I don't remember anything about that day, I mean, not specifically. I don't, I don't even... many people have asked me that and I think I was too young. I have no recollection of my reaction or how I felt about that. All I remember is my mother saying we have to... we're gonna go on a vacation, and how excited I was about that. I don't think I was... I was just really naive. And when I compare with grade school children today, I think, even as a second grader, I was pretty naive.

JN: And your, and during the school, your friends and your teachers, they didn't treat you...

LK: I don't, I don't remember any incidents of any kind that was any different than any other, yeah, day in school. Either that or I've repressed it, but I don't remember anything untoward about that time at all.

JN: Do you remember about the roundups? How did that affect your family?

LK: Where they came to... I, what I remember -- and I can't tell if it's what I remember because of the pictures I've seen or if it's something that I remember -- but I do remember the Filipino hired hands came to the house, because my father wasn't here. It was just my mom, because they had taken Dad away to Missoula earlier because he couldn't prove his citizenship and he had... they found rifles and dynamite in the barn and that was cause enough for them to remove him first. And I remember Felix and Elaulio and there were several Filipino bachelors who were actually my... they started as my grandparents' hired hands and then they stayed on with my, my parents. And my father was not a farmer. But I remember Felix and Elaulio coming to the house and seeing us off. I remember that.

JN: Do you remember when they took your father away?

LK: I don't remember that. And that part, too I, I think it's because he was a salesman who worked for Friedlander and Sons and he commuted to Seattle every day. And then sometimes he went to Eastern Washington, and he went to other... and even Idaho, I think, to sell, to sell jewelry for the Friedlanders. And so he'd be gone for several days at a time and, and so I think it was just taken as a matter of course that Dad wasn't home sometimes. And so I don't remember feeling any kind of... well, feeling anything different about that. It's only as a, afterwards, and as a teenager that I look back and I think, "Well, that was not a good thing."

JN: And your mother probably protected you.

LK: Well, yes, she did. When she said, "We're going on a vacation," it just made us all really excited. I mean in those days, just to take a ferry was a special event. And I, and so we're gonna go on the ferry to Seattle and then not only that, we're gonna get on a train. Somehow she knew we would be taking a train or a bus. And even those two modes of transportation were special to, to me, anyway. So it was exciting and something to look forward to. And I don't make a very good responder to someone who's looking for something touching or earth-shattering when they talk to me because it isn't how I remember it at all. It was almost like, like a vacation.

JN: Well, this is from a seven-year-old, so this is valuable.

LK: Uh-huh, it is. That's from... I was a small child who was pretty protected.

JN: So, do you, do you remember anything about the reaction, in light of the fact that your mom probably protected you, when there was the exclusion order where you had to leave Bainbridge Island? It was all part of this vacation, and there wasn't any sense of...

LK: I have to tell you that -- this may seem like, "Boy, you sure take a long time to learn," but when Snow Falling on Cedars was being filmed and we were extras, and that last scene is when we're all on that ferry dock and -- it was an actual ferry that actually left the dock -- and we're all on the dock, standing and looking at the dock get smaller and smaller. And all of a sudden I thought, "You know, this is how... I wonder how my mama felt." I mean, 'cause she didn't know she was gonna ever get to go back. It was obvious, but until then, it really got to me that I thought, "Oh my goodness. She just had four kids and she didn't know where my dad... how my dad was gonna fare." And, and I really thought that she really did well or I was really dumb that I didn't... I mean, it really got to me that I, that here this is just part of a movie and we're just sitting there. And, yeah, it got to me then that they really, she really did do... was protecting, protective of me and of all of us. In a way, that's when I think, oh... even now with my own children, I felt like I should let them know what's really going on. And I think, "Oh, I should learn from that," that children don't need to know everything. Anyway, that's when I really thought, "Oh, they really did go through a lot."

<Begin Segment 4>

JN: Can you tell us maybe a little bit more about how the Nartes and the Filipino families helped your family out after your father left?

LK: They kept, they continued to... when I look back, that, too, I think is remarkable. That they, they did not... they continued to support my family and our parents. They could easily have said, well, that they're not gonna be supportive of the Japanese because of the, of the Pearl Harbor. But they... I mean, they too continued to go on as if things were the same. And Felix... my parents had Felix Narte look after the house. They lived in another separate building, but then they, my parents had them all move into this house and then keep the farm going as long as the, my parents were not here, and they did do that. And I think, I'm not sure, but I think Felix must have sent the money, whatever they made, to camp. And when we came back then they moved out and we moved back in. And so... anyway, if it weren't for them, we wouldn't have had a place to come home to maybe, or we wouldn't have had a farm left, I think. But they did, so they were, they were like family to my parents. In fact, Felix and my mother were like brother and sister, and they argued and fought like brothers and sisters. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 5>

JN: You kind of touched on this, but, about your memories of March 30th, the day that you left Bainbridge Island. Do you, do you remember anything about, in more detail, about the ferry ride, or the bus ride, or the train ride?

LK: I don't remember the ferry ride, but I do remember the train ride because they had Pullman bunks. And I remember we had to... had a discussion who got to sleep on the top bunk, I remember that. And I remember the soldiers, 'cause -- and that part, too, I remember. At the dock, I was... I mean, this shows how, I think back, how dumb I was, but I was just impressed that here were real soldiers with real guns. That was impressive to me. and I didn't put the idea together that, that we were, quote, "prisoners" or anything like that. But I remember how the soldiers were... they were, they helped mothers, they were helpful. And they were kind and they weren't like soldiers with real prisoners. And I think they, too... anyway, I remember that. And I remember... yeah, I remember the train ride, mostly. Because it was, it was the first time and it was special.

JN: Did you feel it was long?

LK: I don't remember that at all, about how long. I must have said, "When are we going to get there?" But I don't... I do remember my reaction getting off and seeing the sagebrush. I mean, because... and the desolate desert-like place. Oh, and then the barracks. My cousins, the Hayashidas, they grew rhubarb, and the rhubarb house looked exactly like the barracks, it was a tar-paper covered long building. And so I remember thinking, "Oh, look at all the rhubarb houses." And it turned out that's where we're going to be living and then, my mother says that I said, "You said we're going on a vacation. What kind of vacation is this anyway?" And that's what she said I, first thing I said. But, I don't remember. But I remember her relaying that to me.

JN: And this was at Manzanar?

LK: Uh-huh.

<Begin Segment 6>

JN: Can you share some of your personal stories and memories about the camps, good or bad, either?

LK: In Manzanar, I can remember a couple of things. It was all dusty and hot. And I realize now that the barracks were not complete -- well, even if they completed them they probably didn't get much better -- but it was, it was dusty and hot. And one instance that I remember -- well, but there was a creek, and I remember going to the creek. It was just inside the barbed wire fence, and I could remember going to play at the creek and seeing the tower with the soldier up at the top with a gun. And another time was when they had baseball games, and I think my sister got hit, a thrown bat hit her. And that was traumatic, 'cause it hit her on the head, I think. And then another time, they had movies that they showed outside. And it was sort of in a... well, it was like an amphitheater, but you sat on the ground, and it was outside. And that was sort of exciting, 'cause I'd never been to a movie outside. But I took... and I can't remember if it was a movie or some event was there, and I was in charge of my brother Frank. And so we were sitting in this crowd on the ground and a dust storm came up, and everybody got up to leave. And so everybody was swarming to go back to their barracks and I remember just being surrounded by bodies and holding onto Frank's hand and being scared. And to this day, I do not like crowds, when they're jostling me, and I relate it and attribute it to that time. But, see, those were all kind of related to fun things that were part of the camp experience. And then I remember being afraid of scorpions, 'cause we were told so much to be careful of scorpions. Oh, and then another thing about camp, in Manzanar, was there was a dietician, I think, there. And the children sat at a separate table and they served... and she wanted us to clean and eat everything. And they had cottage cheese and I took one bite and I did not like it, and so I just sat there and she wouldn't let me leave until I finished it. And I think I, I out-waited her... I'm trying to remember. [Laughs] But I remember being really stubborn and my mother telling me... it's funny how things stick with you, I'm still considered stubborn, I think. My mother saying that I should just... she came to look for me 'cause I wasn't coming home. But I eat cottage cheese today, so I... but I didn't, I refused to eat it then.

JN: But your mom didn't tell the dietician that it's okay if you didn't eat it?

LK: I don't know, I have no idea. But, so, and I can't remember exactly, but I remember being just really stubborn and sitting there refusing to eat at all.

JN: What about Minidoka? Was this at Manzanar or Minidoka?

LK: This was at Manzanar. Now, Minidoka was the same except that in the wintertime it got really cold and then... and I was in, I was responsible for my sister Frances to walk her to, with her when we went to school and back. And she had to stay after school a lot of times, and so I had to wait for her and all my friends got to go home, go ahead of me, and I remember begrudging Frances that. And then I must have also had to take, watch Frank. Because we were walking home from somewhere and he got -- when the rains came and stopped, the paths were really muddy -- and he got stuck in the mud and I couldn't get him out. And so then I panicked and I think Frank relates this story, too. But anyway, I think I was... what I begrudge is being the oldest sister, I think, of all these things. [Laughs] But... anyway, he must have gotten out of the mud hole, but I remember that. I think the climate was what I remember most, the extreme heat and extreme cold. But otherwise we played, as children do, anywhere. It really isn't 'til after coming home, and ten years after the experience where I have all these stories about discrimination and things that were bothersome to me, not actually during internment or leading up to it. Either I don't remember or it didn't affect me as much as it... well, because I was adolescent by then. That affects a person, I think, more than when they're grade schoolers.

JN: But you did have that sense of being the oldest sister and having to take care, and when there was danger, it was amplified.

LK: Right. I still do. [Laughs] I think it never goes away.

<Begin Segment 7>

JN: How was your day-to-day experiences at camp, either Manzanar or Minidoka, different from your day to day life on Bainbridge Island?

LK: Well, for one thing, we had playmates every day. On Bainbridge, as I said, we didn't visit each other unless it was a special occasion. And even then it seemed to be not that frequent, maybe special birthdays or churches. But it was, it wasn't to have a playmate every day and to have someone to play with. In that way it differed. We didn't... we didn't eat together always, that was... at home we would all be around the same table. But there we could eat and sit with our friends or... in that way it was different. I'm trying to think, other than... and our chores, my chores, there weren't as many chores for me to do. I remember having to gather kindling for the ofuro when I was little and to feed the chickens or to help pull weeds or do something. But we didn't have chores per say. Except my mother did... she must have made rice on the pot-bellied stove sometimes without... other than at the kitchen, I mean, eat at the mess hall, because I remember going to the laundry room and washing a pot of rice. So I remember that.

JN: Do you remember your mom making any comments about you not being all together for dinnertime?

LK: I don't remember. In fact, I hardly remember any kind of disciplining that needed to... I'm trying to think, but I probably put it all in the back of my head in a way. But it seems, I think because there were so many eyes upon us all, I mean, it wasn't just my family. Even, I think, even, I think it's after the war or even growing up, one of the things I remember my mother saying -- it must have been after the war -- she said, "You know, you have to always behave well and stop and think whatever you decide to do because you reflect on our family." But she said, "It's not just your family, you're gonna reflect on the whole Japanese community." And I remember thinking, "Whoa," but I remember her telling me that. And I, and I think, well, camp was like a small town and I think that's... it was like a small town. Everybody was there looking out for their children and others, too.

<Begin Segment 8>

JN: Do you remember anything about your parents filling out the "loyalty questionnaire"?

LK: I don't remember that except, well, see my father did rejoin the family in Minidoka, I think in Minidoka, maybe it was in Manzanar, I can't remember which. But my mother, I don't remember, but I took my mother and we went to see, I think it was the wash... it was one of those plays, see my memory is not so great. But anyway, when we saw that, then she burst into tears at this one scene where the father is saying, no, he's not gonna sign that oath and then the mother breaking. And my mother said after, she said, "That's just what Daddy did." My father said, he said, "Hell no, I'm not gonna sign that. They sent me away to jail and for no good reason, and I'm not gonna... why should I?" and he was just mad. And my mother said, "You've got to." He said, "I don't care. I'll go back to Japan," is the way my mother said to me. And my mother said she never ever went against what my father said, but she said that was the one time she said she actually got on her knees and grabbed him around the legs and said, "You've got to re-sign that." I mean, she was so upset when they, when he first signed it, and then when they gave them another chance, and so then he did relent. And so, she, she said that was the... anyway, that play affected her because it must have happened to more than one couple. But she told me that, that that's what happened. But see, I didn't... even with the closeness of the barracks, I don't remember, yeah, any of that happening. So it must have either been outside or... but she told me that that's what happened.

JN: Again, they probably waited until you weren't around.

LK: Right, I know, I think, uh-huh. Yeah. They, they did, she did a lot to protect... yeah, and I think, "Oh, I'm so impulsive and I'm just totally unlike that." It's amazing to me that someone could have the strength and self control to... yeah, think about all that. Yeah, but anyway...

<Begin Segment 9>

JN: Okay, after the war, what did, what did your family do after the war?

LK: After the war, let's see... my, my father went back to work for Mr. Friedlander, and then decided he would open his own store, and so Mr. Friedlander loaned him the money to start his own jewelry store. And so he opened a store on Jackson Street and continued to commute every day to work there. And, and I remember... oh, and my mother was, did her garden work at home, and my... well, I was a senior in high school and I wanted to go to college. And so my father said, "No, you can't go to college. I have to save my money for Frank." And so my mother, who had to quit... she, well that's another long story, but she, she said, "Well, I'll find a way to get money for, so Lilly can go to school." And so that's when she planted raspberries. She decided... she went to a co-op meeting or something, anyway, she, and everybody else on the island was raising strawberries. And so my mother went and got raspberry plants and she planted, it started out with like 5 acres of raspberries, it grew into 15 acres. But anyway, so my father continued at the jewelry store and my mother raised raspberries, and she got pickers to stay, who were here from Canada. She got them to stay after the strawberry season to stay longer to pick raspberries. And then when she didn't have enough pickers, she went to the Filipino families, the Filipino families, the wives, and asked them if they would come and pick raspberries. And so she raised raspberries for, I don't know, ten, fifteen years. And that put Frank... we swear that put Frank and I both through college, and the other two kids, too. 'Cause she made, I think, brought home more money than my father did at his jewelry store. [Laughs]

<Begin Segment 10>

JN: Can you tell us a little bit more about what you remember when it came to how you were treated? You mentioned it earlier, the, it was later that you realized that...

LK: Well, my mother and I went to shop, went for school shoes to Seattle. And we went to, I think it was the Bon Marche, and this is when I'm twelve, I remember I was twelve years old. And we sat in the shoe department and we waited and waited waited. And other people came and got waited upon and my mother said, "Well, let's go try JC Penney's." So then we went to JC Penney's and the same thing happened there. And so then she said, "Well, let's go to Sears Roebuck." And so, "We'll go some other day. We'll come back another day to go to Sears Roebuck." And even then I didn't... I knew that it was because we were Japanese but I just took it as a matter of course. And then, as we're walking back to the dock, a man came up behind us and said, "Why don't you go back where you came from, you blankety-blank Japs." And I was ready to turn around and say, and say, "Well, we're not...." as any twelve-year-old would. My mother grabbed me by the arm and said, "Just ignore him, just keep walking, don't say another word." And she was clutching my arm and so we just walked quickly to the ferry dock. And I remember that, just really well. And even so, it didn't... I mean, we were, it was, on the island I never felt that blatant kind of discrimination at all.

[Interruption]

LK: And then, when Joe and I were on our honeymoon -- this is, this is ten years after World War II, we got married in 1955. So ten years after the war, we... the first motel -- we were driving to California -- and the first hotel, motel we came to said, "I'm sorry." It said vacancy, and they wouldn't, they didn't have a room for us. And it didn't... it took two more places where I realized, well, they just don't wanna, want us because we're Japanese. And then another time was when... well, and then when we were looking for an apartment, people told us that no, "We can't, we don't rent to Japanese, or to Asians." I mean, that's how blatant it was. And then when we were looking for a house, we looked at a house at Eastgate and we were gonna buy it and we were ready to sign papers and then the real estate agent called us and said, "I'm sorry, but the sellers decided they could not sell to you because they are still friends with their neighbors," their former neighbors. And so... they, they were, at that time, out and out able to tell us that no, they didn't want to rent to Japanese. And I think, I think it takes... I can understand why... well, those are the incidences that colored, I think, how, how self-confident, or not self-confident I became. It became... it just took those two or three times, it wasn't a constant thing. Whereas when I'd go into a new group, I'd think, "Now, what do they think about me? Am I gonna be accepted for me, or am I gonna be rejected?" It's a subconscious thing, but I think it did color how... it's only in my senior years that I've become brazen and more outspoken about things. I think I was hesitant to speak up about... although not very many people think that about me. But I've measured what I said more back then, or kept quiet more.

JN: Because you started off as a child being very confident and very, and stubborn, like you said because you had a strong mind. And you feel that most of your adult life was...

LK: Well, in a way, when I compare -- people would not agree with, about that assessment about myself, in a way. Because one of the telling things I think about growing up on Bainbridge among Caucasians is that I felt comfortable with it. And it wasn't 'til I went to the University of Washington and met students from, Japanese Americans from Seattle. And I thought, "They're so cliquish, and they're, they seem to have to be within their own group." And that was, I didn't understand that. But see, well, that was when I was not married. I mean, I wasn't... I still hadn't been exposed to this, the blatant discrimination, which they probably had been already. Whereas it took until I was getting married, and being turned down at motels and apartment buildings and housing. And so until then, I think I was pretty outgoing and not... able to voice my opinions without feeling self-conscious about it, I guess, yeah. I think that's... yeah, and so it's telling what... yeah, things will do to a person's outlook, I guess. But even so, I would... yeah, it is the difference being raised in a tolerant atmosphere like the island, I think.

<Begin Segment 11>

JN: Before we get into the memorial, can you tell us a little bit about just how... what Bainbridge Island looked like, looked like when you were farming and where the, where the Japanese farms were, and what, what was the general setting of the area.

LK: Well, it was a lot more open farmland. It amazes me to see all that housing that has been developed, or had gone up on all the farms. There were lots of large berry, strawberry fields, there weren't any signal lights on the roads. We all knew... even now I'm, there's so many more roads and lanes on the island that when someone tells me where their address is I have no idea what part of the island they're talking about. Whereas before I, we knew almost every nook and cranny of the island. But mostly it's because the school bus, there was just one, the bus went all over the island to pick everyone up. I think we went from Fort Ward clear to Port Madison, and that one bus picked all the kids up. And so it wasn't like one bus for a certain section of the island, and that's how I knew the island. I remember my mother saying if we were at a stop sign in the road and three cars went by, she'd say, "Oh, the ferry must have come in." [Laughs] I mean, now there'd be... I mean, I have a hard time getting out of our driveway no matter what time of day it is now. And so things were, moved a lot slower and it wasn't, it was a lot more country.

JN: So, did you have to work on the farm or do chores before you went to school? Or just afterwards, or was it just a seasonal thing?

LK: We did chores like weeding, and... we had chores, but not before school so much as after. Our chores were... well, it was either my sister and I, I remember we had assignments that every other day one washed the dishes and the other worked out in the field. And so, but my sister liked to cook and I'd rather be outside so then we got... we just said, "Okay you do all that and I'll stay outside," and that was the arrangement we had. And I remember... I was talking about having something different for dinner every night. In those days, we ate what was ripe. We had beans every day, or, and almost, you know, lunch and dinner if it were the weekend, because that's what was being harvested. And even... or peas, whatever was available. We didn't have this variety of fruit or vegetables, we ate what was grown. I remember visiting family friends in Seattle and seeing this big bowl of grapes on the table and being so stunned and amazed that they had grapes on the table, because it wasn't, the grapes weren't ripe at our house. [Laughs] But that's how it was back then. And then if when, if a produce was grown for the market, then we ate what was overripe and was not suitable to send to market. We had the overripe peas and the overripe beans, and the strawberries that were not perfect, they were culled out of the baskets because they had... were smashed a little. That's what we had for our meals; the best went to the market.

JN: Did you have to cook for the workers on the farm?

LK: No. They, they lived in... the house still stands, I mean, barely standing. But that house by the side of the road was the, we called it the Filipino house, and all the Filipino farmhands lived there. There must have been three or four of five of them. And they cooked their own meals there, and I can remember going to eat with them sometimes as a little girl. And they ate with their hands, and I remember being so impressed that they ate with their hands. But since then I've learned that they eat with their hands in other countries, too. [Laughs] But it was something to see the Filipinos... and I just thought, "Well, that's 'cause they're bachelors and they don't know any better," that's what I remember thinking. But the Filipino men, I was like... they were like an uncle to me. 'Cause I... at that time, there was a grocery store right there on the corner of Miller and Fletcher Bay, I mean, on Battle Point Road. It was part of the Bainbridge Gardens complex. And the Nakatas and Ed Loverich were there, and... but I don't know if it was there -- anyway, I think the Haruis were there before the war, I mean, the Harui-Seko family, they had the grocery store before the war. And I remember Elaulio or Felix buying me an ice cream cone there and so, and I remember that. They treated me as, well, as I was one of their own kids. They spoiled me, actually.

<Begin Segment 12>

JN: Today, how do you feel about what's happening... what do you feel about what happened to your family during the war and how do you feel about the memorial?

LK: Well, it was a terrific wrong that happened to all the Japanese Americans. And I think the memorial's important because, well, for one thing, it is historical that Bainbridge Islanders were the very first to be removed. And also it's telling because I realize now that the people, the community of Bainbridge Island was unique in that they welcomed us back. They weren't perfect, there was, I think, one or two voices who spoke out against that. But, on the whole, people felt welcomed home. And, and I think that, too, is telling and should be, should be told and should be memorialized. That plus the... well, just so that it wouldn't happen again. I think even... it's taken me a long time to not deny my Japanese-ness. Somehow even if intellectually I know that I'm not the country of Japan, but it's hard to remove that when people around you are not letting you forget that. It's just recently that I don't think about that. Well... it's been a while, but it, it did color the way I looked at things or reacted to things. Like almost denying my Japanese-ness. And, so...

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

LK: To say what?

JN: To, what would you like to say to the visitors?

LK: Oh, to the visitors? Hmm, I don't know. It depends on... I don't know what I'd say to them. It depends on what they ask me, I suppose. Well, I would like them to know that... well, that these were American, Americans, not Japanese from Japan, and they had nothing to do with Pearl Harbor or... and that how easy it is to make that... I don't know why it was so easy for them to make the leap when that wasn't done with Germans or Italians. But, and how, well, how vigilant we should be about not making that kind of mistake again as people or as a government.

JN: This is another question, but I recall... it brings it to my mind. If your mother or your father were still alive and they probably took the brunt of the, of the burdens because so much of it they didn't even share with you as adults, what do you think they would feel?

LK: I think, I think they would feel like... some of the Nisei I've spoken to, they, they would say to me, "Oh, we're so grateful that Frank and you have done this." And I think it's because they, they feel like they wouldn't be able to do it, and that they're glad that someone else has picked up the, the flame to get this going. And I think my parents would feel the same way, that they'd be, they'd be grateful that something is being done so that it will be memorialized and not forgotten. Because it was... as I said, it took me a long time, but I realize now what a hard time it was for, well, for all of the adults. I knew that, but I mean, to really feel that, yeah. It must have been a really trying time.

JN: Do you have anything else you want to share?

LK: Only that, only that it's, that people are more aware of differences and yet we are all so different but that we're really all alike in our same wants and emotions and, and I think people are more aware of that. It's not as easy as before when they pigeon-holed people or were quick to discriminate because of your race, or your, your... or whatever. I think people are more worldly now. But at the same time, there's pockets when it's brought up short, that there are still people who do not get it. And, and that... it goes back to my, the discrimination that I felt as a young person. When, even today when that's brought up, and it, I get my, my defenses go up and I think, oh, even just going into Safeway, I think, "Ooh now, I wonder how that person feels about me." And I would never, I got to a point where I didn't even think about that. I mean, I forgot that I was Japanese. And my friends would tell me they forget that you're, that I'm... well, that I have an ethnicity. But every now and then I'm brought up short and I think, "Oh, we need to be ever vigilant." But at the same time, it is a lot better now, I think. But at the same time, we're human beings, I guess, and fear makes people... I think that's the basis of a lot of discrimination, is fear.

<Begin Segment 13>

JN: Going back a little, can you tell us a little bit about your parents, how they valued education? Your mom managed to figure out a way to send you to college. Like growing up, did you get any messages?

LK: I don't remember any overt things, other than, I remember... well, see, my mother's story is unusual 'cause she was born in Seattle. And her, her parents, her mother was only eighteen when she was born, and her father was here from Japan to make his fortune and take it back. Make his fortune in America and go back to Japan. And so when, when her mother was pregnant with my mom, then they decided they're gonna... that they had -- and she was working, too, and that she had to keep working. And so my mother was just a few months old, I don't remember how old she was, but they sent her back to Japan on the ship with two bachelor men who were going back to Japan, and they sent her back to stay with her uncle in Japan. And she didn't get to come back to America 'til she was thirteen. And while she was in... so then she was raised... actually, the only parents she knew was her aunt and uncle in Japan, and he happened to be the principal of this school, a grade school in Japan. And she loved school and she said she really got top grades in her, in her... but she was ostracized by her classmates because they said, "Oh, you just did well because your father is, I mean, your uncle is the principal." And so, but anyways, so then she had to leave Japan and came back to America. There's a whole big story involved about how that evolved, but anyway, she came back here and by then, my, there were, she had four sisters who were born, meanwhile. And, and so they, she came back to the island because by then my grandparents had moved to the island. He moved here to work at the Port Blakely Mill and then from there became a farmer, and, and bought this house.

Anyway, when she came back to America, she was twelve or thirteen, she went to the sixth -- twelve, I think -- she went through the sixth grade and then her parents said, "Okay, that's enough school. You have to help on the farm." And so they made her quit school, and so she just begrudged them that something fierce. And so when I said I wanted to go and my father said, "We can't afford to pay tuition for Lilly, we have to save it for Frank," then that's when my mother's dander got up and that's when she said, "Okay, I'll make some money so she could go," and that's how it evolved. But she always, I mean, we all, somehow we knew we had to do well in school. I don't remember anybody ever telling us that or giving lectures, but there was that old story about, I mean, we have to represent the family well, and the community well, etcetera, etcetera. So anyway, that's. So... and so then because of that, both Frank and I worked summers on the... doing with the raspberries, helping, and that's when I cooked for the workers. I was here... yeah, I cooked for, all of my parents' friends in Seattle sent their children over here to get the farm experience, so they were staying here and I was cookin' for 'em.

JN: So how many people were, at that time, how many people were here?

LK: Well, it went clear into when, after I got married and had children, and so I'd be here with my three kids. And there'd be six or seven young teenagers here at a time. And then I also got up in the morning to go pick up the pickers or the women who came to help pick. And then the different pickers stayed at the different cabins at the other farms, and so I would go and pick them up in the truck and then in the evening I... well, by then, I think, oh, by then Frank was in college. And... I don't know why, he worked too, but there were times... well, by the time he was in practice... I did this clear until after Frank was out of school and had his dental practice and I was coming here on, during the summertime and I was delivering the berries in the evening to the market, to the wholesale markets in Seattle. And then I'd come home and get up at five, my mother would wake me up, even as an adult. I remember her saying, "It's time to wake up, Lilly." And I'd say, "Oh, no." It's six o'clock in the morning and I'd have to get up. Anyway, I learned as a teenager to drive a stick, and I, the manual transmission. And I drove this big truck with stacks of raspberries on there and drove it to Seattle and, yeah... and my father still had the store and on the weekend he was a weekend farmer. But it was really my mother who did all that work. And that's with a sixth grade education, and five of it was in Japan. So she was able to read and write Japanese, and she must have adjusted to English in that first year in school, sixth grade. So she...

JN: She did pretty well for herself.

LK: Uh-huh.