Densho Digital Archive
Steven Okazaki Collection
Title: Chico Uyeda Interview
Narrator: Chico Uyeda
Location: San Francisco, California
Date: December 8, 1983
Densho ID: denshovh-uchico-01

<Begin Segment 1>

Q: When they bombed Pearl Harbor, what was your reaction?

CU: My own personal reaction? Well, I was brought up under what we called the code of Bushido, code of samurai. So consequently, I guess you might say it was one of elation. Of course, all my schoolmates, they ribbed me about it, the close ones. And the afternoon of the... well, we attended school Monday morning, and by ten o'clock the principal had issued a statement saying that, "All people of Japanese ancestry go home." Okay, then General DeWitt of the Western Defense Command put on a curfew that there will be no Japanese people out after 6 p.m. So we were confined to our homes.


Q: Can you start with when you were seventeen and the teacher sent the kids home, can you describe that?

CU: Well, we were sent home, and of course, parents were scared. They didn't know what was going to happen. They worried about what would take place. And when they got the edict from the General DeWitt of the Western Defense Command, we would have an imposed curfew. Six p.m. to six a.m. we weren't allowed out of the house, it was house confinement. And there was a lot of discussion in the family as to what would take place, and all my martial arts equipment, my folks felt that by having things like that, it might cause a great deal of harm to the family. So they took it out in the backyard, burned it up. The family sword was given to a FBI agent to, for safekeeping. After the war I looked for it, could never find it. And other than that that, why, I guess it was general feelings, feeling of foreboding, what was going to happen, whether we would be deported, confined, or what have you.

There was one humorous aspect where my school chums came after me to go to see a drive-in movie, the first drive-in movie ever built. But what they did was, against my parents' wishes, they put me in the trunk of the car. We went to see this drive-in movie at which time I came out and I sat down inside the car, and there just happened to be an off-duty police officer in the next car and kept looking at me and kept looking at me. Finally he came out and he says, "What nationality are you?" So my school chum says, "Well, he's Chinese." So he says, "Well, okay. But if he's Japanese," he says, "he'd better be inside his house where he belongs." Other than that, there's not much of anything else.

Q: Did you get comments from the non-Japanese people?

CU: Oh, yeah, the feelings ran high. There were neighbors who were suddenly friends, who were suddenly not friends anymore. They didn't say anything or do anything, but the feelings changed completely around. So I guess you might say that they weren't truly friends.

<End Segment 1> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 2>

Q: Can you describe the evacuation?

CU: The evacuation, we were given two weeks to get rid of all our belongings, car, furniture, house property, whatever we had. We had bought a brand-new 1941 Dodge at that time, which would be unheard of today. The total price was thirteen hundred dollars. And we were forced to let it go, we paid cash, let it go for about fifty dollars. There were refrigerators that were brand new that we sold for two dollars, bedroom sets, brand-spanking-new, that we let go at a ridiculous price. And then the army sent these trucks, bobtails, and we were allowed to carry two suitcases. And we were picked up by these trucks and taken to the assembly center. We had moved from L.A. to Fresno Central Valley, because we had heard that by being on the east side of Highway 99, we wouldn't be incarcerated. But as it turned out, everybody within California.

So when we took, when they took us to the camp, I looked, and there was a double row of barbed wires with guard towers. And I looked at all that and I thought, my god, is this happening? And the camp was exactly what you would see in a movie, there were barracks with two, four, six rooms, not much larger than this, I would say, oh, maybe another seven, eight feet that way. But, oh, another seven feet that way. Now regardless of whether the family had four or ten, you had that one apartment. The barracks were built like this, it was number three uncured lumber covered with tarpaper. So the wall just came up to here, which meant that there was absolutely no privacy for anyone in there.

When we disembarked from the bobtail, we were made to go single file, strip, and as you walked through this barrack door, there was an MP on either side, a stranger with some kind of chemical powder, I don't know what it was, DDT or whatever. Then they opened up our suitcases, they confiscated anything that was made out of metal, spoon, forks, belt buckles, girls had earrings and anything like that, anything that was made out of metal. Then you were given a number of the barrack that you were assigned to. There were twelve barracks to each block. Each block was surrounded by about a 5 or 6 foot ditch completely surrounding it. The cots, you got a bag that was filled with straw for a mattress. And it was very poor conditions, but what with the not knowing what was going to happen, you know, you didn't even think about things like that. I know my parents were worried about what would happen to me and my sister. As far as the folks were concerned, they felt that they were already old, had lived a life and really didn't much care. You know, they were more concerned for the children than anything else. It's kind of a demeaning thing to happen. In camp, you had a 6 o'clock curfew just like on the outside. The MPs were out patrolling with dogs. If anyone had to go to the bathroom, you had to call out, at which time they would tie up the dogs, then they would accompany you.


Q: You told me the last time about the MPs having to follow the women to the bathroom. Can you describe those kind of things?

CU: Yeah, if you had to go to the bathroom, you had to call out The MPs would then take a check on the dogs and they would accompany you to the bathroom and sit there and watch while you did your thing, or it didn't make any difference whether you were a man or a woman. Which was very, I think, very embarrassing for the woman. When you were through, they brought you back, they locked the door and the dogs were released again. The bathroom in itself was quite a deal, it was... you might say it was a double row of benches. Four holes cut into it lengthwise, at one end, you had a very large tin bucket with water constantly dripping. The underneath, right underneath the holes, it was a galvanized metal in a v-form, okay. Then, what we found out -- this a little comical there -- but when the water filled up and the bucket would tip, the water would splash down and up. Consequently, the first two seats next to the bucket, whoever was sitting there would have to stand up, otherwise you're gonna get splashed. [Laughs] There were times when, later on, when boys would get together and we would sit on those benches and play poker at the same time.

<End Segment 2> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 3>

Q: How do you feel about the statement that it was for your own safety, that it was just a relocation and internment camp?

CU: You know, there's a woman in Gardena, I think that's where she's at, a Caucasian woman who's very vociferous and very adamant about the camp being called a concentration camp. She has been in court on this reparation deal and where a Nisei who was reading some paper, she would get so mad that she would jump up and snatch the paper right out of his hand. I can't understand why this woman is the way she is. The only thing I could figure, maybe she had a relative that was killed in the Pacific. But to be called a relocation center by no means. All you have to do is look at a movie and movies of a concentration camp, and that's exactly what these camps were. They had a dual row of barbed wire 25 feet apart. They had guard towers with machine guns. I was playing ball and the ball happened to roll within 5 feet of the first barbed wire. When I went to retrieve it, the MP in the tower says, "Move back." He took the safety off the gun and he said, "If you don't move within the next three seconds," he said, "I'll shoot you." Now by no means, by any stretch of the imagination, can you call this a "relocation center." Eventually, yeah, because the Japanese were turned out, you know. They were given jobs, but they were given twenty-five dollars, bus fare, and a promise of a job in the Midwest or the East. You weren't allowed to come to the West Coast. And the regimentation of the guards, you weren't allowed in or out of the camp, you had a six o'clock curfew. How can anyone call it a relocation center? It was a concentration camp, pure and simple. If you... eventually, they started a work program where the unskilled laborer was paid eight dollars a month. Semi-skilled, twelve dollars a month. Doctors, they were paid sixteen dollars a month. Of course, we had no place to spend that money, you know, other than, say, the camp PX. And that's where Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Ward with their catalog made an awful lot of money.

Later on, I was in a camp, Jerome, in Arkansas. There were two camps in Arkansas, one was called Rohwer. They were approximately 30 miles apart and there was a little town called McGeehee, Arkansas right smack in the middle . My first experience with prejudice per se was when we were given passes to travel to and from the other camps, provided you had a relative and you were going to see that relative. We were given a bus ticket and there were three of us. We tried to get on this bus and at that time, we weren't aware of the segregated conditions, you know, black and white. In camp, we had seen it in action, but I got on the bus and I spotted three seats open in the back so I told my friends, "Well, let's go back there and sit down." It didn't dawn on us that, you know, there were nothing but blacks in the back and whites up in front. So we went back there and we sat down and as I looked up, I see everybody in the bus turning around looking at us, you know. And I thought, "What are they staring at?" And the bus driver, he asked me, he said, "What are you doing back there?" And I said, "Well, what's it look like? I'm sitting." He says, "Well, you're not allowed to sit there." I says, "I paid the fare, I think I'm allowed to sit wherever I please." He says, "Not in this bus." So I looked around like this, then I saw a "black" and "white" situation. So I says, "Well, what's the difference where I sit?" He says, "It makes a difference." I said, "Are you aware of what I am, nationality-wise?" He says, "Yeah, you're a Jap, aren't you?" I said, "No." He said, "Well, what are you?" I said, "I'm Japanese. I come from that camp and your country is supposedly at war with my country and I'm not good enough to sit here? You want me to sit up there with the so-called white folks, is that it?" He says, "That's right." And he said, "This bus won't move until you do." Some little old lady, a white lady, said, "Please, would you come up here? I'll give you my seat." That made me feel bad. I said well, okay. So I told my friends, well, let's go up there and stand. And the lady offered her seat to me and I said no.

There was an incident in McGeehee, Arkansas, where a friend of mine bought a suit. And after he bought it, he was kind of dissatisfied with the color in the daylight, so we went to return it. And the salesman said no, so we got into an argument, we got into an argument with the manager. He said that since a salesman had spent a lot of time on us, it was his prerogative whether to take it back or, you know, not take it back. At which time, I was very short-tempered, hot-tempered. I started to call the salesman all kinds of names, including the manager. Well, then I turned around, I started to walk out, and this guy came at me with a knife. So I put him down and he got up, came at me again, so I put him down and I told him a third time, I said, "You try to stand up and come at me again, I'm gonna really hurt you." At which time, he proceeded to do so, so I put him down and I really let him have it. There were some people across the street that saw this incident and they hollered, "Get those damn Japs." And here they come out of the drugstore, out of the restaurants, out of the department stores, so there were three of us running down the street with half the town chasing us. We didn't know what to do. We knew that if we got caught, we would be lynched; that's the South. There happened to be three trucks picking up ice for the camps and we spotted them by accident, and we made a beeline for each of them. Each truck had two MPs. And when we shouted at them, they, they all looked up and they could see three of us running with half the town chasing. They got scared. They said, boy, never mind that ice, just start those trucks and let's go, you know. So they started to pull out. We had to run to, keep running to catch hold of the back end of the truck, they pulled us up, the townspeople stopped. They went back to get their cars and chase us to Rohwer and we made it through the main gate, I guess five car lanes or so ahead of the whole town, you know. And the MP's at the gate, they didn't know what to do, they were scared, they see the whole townspeople coming. But they just, some of them managed to stop just for stop, and the mayor of that town issued an edict that there would be no more Japanese in that town. This went on for a period of two weeks, at which time the merchants began to complain.

<End Segment 3> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 4>

Q: What was your personal reaction to the way people were treating you?

CU: Okay, this is gonna kind of make me sound like a hero, which I wasn't, which I didn't even feel at the time. But from the Fresno Assembly Center, there was a crew of five hundred that were sent on to Jerome, Arkansas, to get the camp ready for the rest of the people. And during the train ride, we were let out, I think someplace either in Wyoming or I think it was Wyoming, out of the train in the middle of the prairie. They had a cordon of MPs completely surround the train, and we were told to get out and exercise. Now, when I got out, you know, I started to walk towards one of the MPs and right away, he released the safety on his, I guess it was Thompson machine gun. And he said, "Get back," so I stopped and I said, "Where am I gonna go?" He said, "Never mind, just get back." And I said, "Well, don't get nervous," so I moved back. When we got to Arkansas, the Arkies apparently had never seen Orientals before, let alone Japanese. We had people in our group that stood six foot one, six foot two, and they couldn't believe it, and there was a lot of hullabaloo going on, and we couldn't understand what the commotion was about. Come to find out, they had built tables and chairs for children. So they had to remake all the dining room benches and the dining room table, they had to enlarge the doorway to accommodate normal people, you know, height-wise.

So then we proceeded to get the camp ready. And when the first group of people arrived, it was wintertime, snowing, cold. There was a lot of old people, and they were given one blanket, the bag filled with straw for a mattress. And I asked the camp head, there was a Mr. Hayes and a Mr. Jenkins, "You know, for the older people, at least give them additional blankets," and he said, No." Well, being young, headstrong and hard-headed, I said, "One way or another, these people are gonna get extra blankets." And he says, "No." So me and several friends of mine, there was Mas Mitsui who is in Chicago, right now, there was a Ichiro Inouye, George Sasaki, myself, and Ben Tagami, I guess I was kind of the ringleader. I said, "Well, let's take one of those trucks. Go down to the warehouse and get the blankets, at which time Jenkins told the MPs to get their guns ready and he told me that if I made a move toward that truck, he would have them shoot. So I said, "Well, you go ahead and tell them to shoot."


CU: He said, "You." So I turned around and looked at him and I asked him, "You speaking to me?" He said, "Yeah." He said, "I want you to get that roll of paper and take it up to the crane." I said, "Well, why don't you take it up yourself? You're not helpless." So we got into an argument, and when I get into an argument, I get pretty carried away. I called him every name in the book. And he picked up what they call a chipping hammer, you know, for welding. So I just waited, I had already spotted a piece of iron that had been cut in, like this. So I said, "Come on." So when he came and when he got maybe from here to that camera, I picked the slag, that metal and when he saw that, he dropped that chipping hammer and he took off. I chased him and he made the mistake of running up to the crane, overhead crane, where I chased him and I threw him over the side of that crane which is, oh, it's way up there. And I held on to his calf and feet and he's dangling, you know, head first. And people got all excited. They went after the management and he said, well, we're gonna, don't, "Whatever you do, don't drop him." And I was telling Ernie, I said, "You know, how do you feel right now?" I said, "I ever catch you calling Carl a boy and telling him to do things he doesn't want to do, which you can do," and I said, "Don't you ever ask me ever again," you know. So he was screaming that, "Let me up, pull me up, don't drop me." So after I pulled him up and I let him go, they called the cops. Cops came and put me in handcuffs. They took me into the office and they asked Ernie if he wanted to press charges, and he said no. So then they said, "Well, we're going to have to let you go." Now in those days, when they let you go, you had to have a pink slip. Without that pink slip, you can't get another job. So I ended up working for a Japanese family that was raising bean sprouts in a basement of their home, and working as a delivery boy for Chinese food that they used to make. It was kind of an interesting situation.


CU: Okay, we started for the truck. The MPs took their safeties off their rifles, and I got inside the truck. I didn't pay any attention. Mas and Benny and Ichiro, all the guys followed. So there was kind of a stalemate there for a second. Jenkins had to make a decision. He had to either make good his threat or back down. I don't know what made him change his mind but he told the MPs to let us go. So I went to the warehouse, got the blankets, and got the old folks in good shape. I, all the inactivity in camp, you know, we weren't allowed any kind of activity. I started to teach a little judo, karate, and they said no martial arts. They would allow sumo.

<End Segment 4> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 5>

CU: I think it's only fair. There were a lot of people, like I said, we had to sell belongings at, I would say at less than l/16th on the dollar, you know. There was a lot of things that were lost, there were people who sold their property, say a home at that time built at a cost of say, 3,200 dollars, that same home right now is worth in excess of two hundred fifty, three hundred thousand dollars. Now, those homes were sold very cheaply, I would say maybe 1/10th on the dollar. So that combined with the indignity, also being incarcerated in those concentration camps, when we were given job opportunities, what, twenty-five dollars a ticket, a bus ticket or train ticket. And a job opportunity which didn't really even pay what the other people were getting paid. I think we should get something for it. As for the specific amount, I don't know. I understand they finally settled on a sum of $20,000 for the remaining survivors. I think, personally, that what the government will do is wait until most of the people are gone. We're all in that age bracket, you know, the Issei people, most of them are gone. I would say, what, eighty percent. The surviving children, which I would be in, we're getting to the age now where our life is not going to go very much longer. I myself, I figure maybe another fifteen, twenty years, I'm lucky. So supposing the government waits that long, that means there's that much less people to pay, right? If the person, I don't know how it's going to turn out, but say for example like my children who were not in the camps, would they be the recipient of the money if I die? So it's in the interest of the government to wait as long as they can, but I think we're entitled to something.

Q: Would you say that the Issei suffered the most from the camps?

CU: Did I what?

Q: Would you agree that the Issei were the ones who really suffered through the camps in terms of rebuilding their lives after?

CU: No, I think it was the Nisei that suffered the most. The Isseis had already lived out a fairly full life. They went through an awful lot of abuse because of the language barrier and being a so-called foreigner. But the Nisei was taken into the camp right at the age where, you know, you would've really begun to experience life per se. Of course, after we were sent out to these jobs, we ran into all kinds of interesting experience which may or may not have helped, but one thing is certain, that whether you be Nisei or Sansei, you still have the... well, how should I word it? Japanese spirit where you will strive to get ahead. So even with, starting out with nothing, really, what, twenty-five dollars and a train ticket a lot of the Niseis have really worked hard, they've become lawyers, they've become doctors, they've started successful businesses. The Sansei have reaped a rich, full life from all this, I think. I think the Sansei are right now starting to become aware of what the Nisei and the Issei went through. My nephew, for example, he was with the JACL and he got a citation here in Oakland and they had written on the citation, "Jap." And I pointed it out to him so he went to work and went to see the mayor and everybody else and they no longer put all that down if you receive a citation.

<End Segment 5> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 6>

CU: And I got ready for Japanese school. Okay. Japanese school consisted of going to school from four to six, two hours. At which time I came home, I had dinner, then I went to martial arts school by seven. And from seven 'til eleven, I studied that. That's five days a week, okay. At which time I came home, showered, went to bed. I got up at two o'clock, and by two-thirty, I was delivering newspapers. On Saturdays, I went to, helped my brother-in-law to do gardening work. Sundays I worked at a service station. So actual play time, in my growing years, there was nothing until I went into the camps, then there was just total inactivity. Which is why I got involved in... well, you know, hustling up talent shows. They said I couldn't teach the martial arts in camp. They allowed sumo, but nothing like... well, they started to allow judo too, but kendo was a no-no. That's samurai stuff, you know, ancient Japan. That was a no-no.

Q: You know, the guards there, did you ever talk to the guards?

CU: Yeah, eventually the guards got friendly, they got to know you. And you talk to them, they were completely relaxed.

Q: What did they think of the situation, did they ever talk about that?

CU: No, no. Most of the MPs that were guarding those camps, later on, I found out were kind of misfits, you know. For one physical defect of any kind, instead of being in the regular army, they were assigned as guards, you know, for these concentration camps.

<End Segment 6> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 7>

Q: Did you get drafted into the service?

CU: No. They wanted me to volunteer for the army. They sent a, during the camp, they sent a major from intelligence in there to give a pep talk to all the young people about volunteering for a segregated combat team. After he gave this long spiel about how, you know, most of America wasn't acquainted with the Japanese people, and that by joining the segregated combat team, we would be proving our loyalty to this country and so on, so forth. Well, after his spiel, I raised my hand. And he said yes, and I told him, I said, "The question I'm about to ask you might prove embarrassing, so if you don't want to answer, you better say so now." And he said, "I'll answer anything you want to ask." So I told him, I says, "If you were in my shoes and I were in your shoes, and I just gave you the same speech that you gave me," I says, "What would your answer be?" He looked at me straight in the eye and he says, "I'd tell you to go screw yourself." So then that's when a lot of the guys said, "Hey, this guy's alright." So they said, well, they'll volunteer, and they handed out forms. When it came to me, I said, "No, there's no way I'm going to volunteer. You people incarcerated me in a concentration camp with barbed wires, uprooted my whole family, took everything away, and now you want me to volunteer for this man's army?" I said, "No. There's no way I'll go."

Q: But your number never came up?

CU: It came up at the end of the war. So they sent me a draft notice and wanted me to go take a physical. Well, I was always classified 4-C, "enemy alien." I had lost that card. I had written to the draft board and told them that I had lost it. They never sent anything. All right, so when I took my physical, I passed l-A. So I told ' em, all right, well, since I passed, they 're gonna take me, like it or not, they're gonna take me. So I might as well go down and volunteer then. So I went down and I said, "Okay, I'm here. I passed my physical yesterday so sign me up." Since the war's over, I'll go. So they said, "Well, let me see your draft card." I said, "I don't have one." "What do you mean, you don't have one?" I said, "I lost it." "What was your classification?" I said, "4-C." "We don't want you." So I said, "Okay. You had your chance now." I said, "Even if I got to go to state prison, I'm not gonna go."

<End Segment 7> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 8>

Q: You talk much to your kids about those years?

CU: Well, I let them know what had happened. And I've always pushed their cultural heritage and background. I've always told them that when they went to school, "Under no circumstances are you to ever tolerate anyone calling you a 'Jap.' I don't care whether it's a teacher or anybody else, you will correct them, now. And that also goes for any of your friends who are of different backgrounds, whether they be Mexican, Chinese or Jewish or what." I do not tolerate and do not like anyone using derogatory terms pertaining to anyone's ethnic background. I don't like it and I get very, very vocal about it. And if necessary, I get physical, too. My wife always said I was very hard-headed.

Q: It sounds like you were, and it's interesting. Did you at a certain point not want to go to the camps?

CU: Well, I felt that it was, once the wheels were in motion, it was inevitable. I wasn't going to have a say so, I base this... I base this on an incident that happened just before war broke out where I was involved in a car accident. The other party was dead wrong. He ran a boulevard stop and he smashed into my car. But since I was very young and very Japanese, this person decided to take me to small claims court. I had witnesses and yet I lost the judgment. So I wrote an article in English class in high school about racial prejudice and it caused quite a bit of a ruckus. The teacher called me and the principal called me and says, "Well, why do you say this?" I said, "Because it's true." Jerry Thorpe. Are you acquainted with Jerry Thorpe, the movie producer, director? His son was in my class. He wrote an essay about the "Yellow Peril." And when he started to read his essay at the head of the class, he used the term "Jap" and I just picked up my books and threw it at him. And as the books went flying, I followed. It took two coaches and two other male teachers to finally subdue me, okay. Then I thought I was in a lot of trouble, because he comes from a wealthy family. But surprisingly, his father showed up and apologized to me for what his son had said. That really shocked me. But I thought, you know, sending me to camp, what am I gonna do? I lose a judgment, a sure judgment, in small claims court. What chance do I have of trying to fight going to camp? No chance. I thought maybe perhaps if I'd been a little bit older, I would have been just hardheaded enough to try.


CU: Okay, now when I was put into those camps, at that time, I had no idea whether I would ever leave that camp, whether I would be deported, or whether I'd be put before a firing squad, you know, or just out and outright killed. So I just accepted life as being inevitable. That, that is somewhat like what I would term code of Bushido. You learn to accept physical discomfort without a whimper. Of course, I know my parents, they didn't know what was going to happen. They didn't know whether they were gonna be shot or deported or what have you.

<End Segment 8> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.

<Begin Segment 9>

Q: What was the lesson of the camps, looking back?

CU: What is the lesson? Well, it all depends by what you mean by a lesson. I know that regardless of what people's feelings and what they're saying now, that things like this shouldn't happen, that it was wrong. If there were another war, it could happen again. I know people's feelings run high and fueled with a little propaganda, it could completely get out of hand. As for example, the Chinese boy that was mistaken for Japanese, he got bludgeoned to death. And then the court turned around and instead of putting these guys up for murder, they were let free with a very light sentence or a fine, weren't they? So regardless of what people say now, it's possible. It could happen again. I think in our particular case, we were very identifiable, being Oriental. As opposed to, say, a German or an Italian. So we were the ones that were picked. But it can happen again. There's no doubt about it in my mind. If and when it does, then perhaps if it involves, say, another ethnic background, they then would understand what we went through.

Q: Do you feel that you were scarred?

CU: That I was scarred?

Q: That you altered your life afterwards? Your view, your optimism?

CU: Well, I think it probably altered my life somewhat. Because most, most families really pushed their children, Japanese families pushed their children educationally-wise and career-wise. Of course, I think I just got to the point where I didn't care, you know. Until I got married and started to raise children, then I was concerned with the future of my children. As for myself, I don't know. Things might have been different. But who can say?

<End Segment 9> - Copyright © 1983, 2010 Densho and Steven Okazaki. All Rights Reserved.