<Begin Segment 7>

RP: Since you're so intimately involved in, in this veteran's organizations, maybe you could share with us attitudes or changes in perception relating to draft resistance from the camps. In other words, another group of young men who chose to go it another direction, under very conscientious grounds as well. And did your father have sort of a reaction to that and what did veterans overall, what, have you seen any change in their reaction? Or what has been the reaction?

JW: Oh, my father obviously, he was drafted before the war started. So he was never asked "yes-yes" or "no-no." I don't think they gave that to him because he wasn't in internment camp. And, he was not released because he said he wouldn't serve. He was already in the military. But he said for many years, obviously the "no-no" people and the veterans are diametrically opposed. But he said that many years later that he can see why those people made that decision and the difficulty is, is that you can accept it, but it's very difficult to make a change in that decision. When you see people who sacrificed their lives, it's kind of hard when you can see the benefit of the veterans. In fact, when Yukiguchi went up there and he made a talk, one fellow was sitting in the front row who was a person that was against the draft and all that and he drove two hundred miles to see him talk. And he said this fellow was against the draft and he came up there to listen. Because I think he realized that these people sacrificed everything so you could live a better life and I think that it's something you have to live with. My father could understand why these people did that. But look at the, look what happens. When your friend dies for your, for your benefit, how do you, how do you repay that? So this fellow was sitting in the front row at that meeting that, actually, that talk that Yukiguchi gave and he never said a word to us. But you told me later what that fellow, what that fellow, he was one of those people that probably went to Tule Lake. And, but Yukiguchi didn't say a word to him, and the other fellow didn't say anything. In fact when we went over in the corner where they had the display of the veterans there, Yukiguchi told the lady that he knew all five of those veterans because they were part of F Company. And he gave 'em all the names and the fellow who was killed there and all the same... all those people are from Hawaii though. They're not from the, they're not from the camps here but they're actually from Fox Company. But they were all, there was a, it's a temporary cemetery in Italy. But the idea is that it's, it gets the point across that, that freedom is not free and you can sacrifice for country even if they don't treat you right.

One thing I want to mention is that the person that took the picture is Tajiro Uranaka. His father had a photo studio in Honolulu. And when the war started he was sent to Santa Fe, New Mexico, because they thought he'd be, he owned a photography studio. I think it was called Midway Studio. And they sent him to Santa Fe, New Mexico, but when he was in the army they allowed him to take his Volander camera. He took that picture that's in the Manzanar interpretive center and then his brother was sent to MIS in the Pacific. And the mother was in Honolulu. And they got together after the war ended and the mother was very upset that, that her husband's in prison and her sons in the armies. And, and so they took people and they sent them from Hawaii to the mainland as prisoner of war. And the fact is they allowed him to take his camera to take some of these famous shots of the 442nd, wartime. Tells you that... but he did take that picture in that interpretive center. And he's still alive. And I, and so he, he knew how to compose pictures. Now that to me is kind of ironic. But that's, he had a Volander 120. So that wasn't taken by the Signal Corps, that was taken by actually by the Tajiro Uranaka from Honolulu, Hawaii. So, I think we should write a little story about that. But it's kind of sad. And he's not, he's interesting. He just doesn't, he doesn't sound bitter or anything. But his mother was very upset, obviously, there's a, you know. You can't tell part of the family is bad and the other parts are needed. But his mother was very made 'cause she had to somehow survive. 'Cause they couldn't have a photography studio in Honolulu. But, no, I think that there is so many things that have occurred and that don't make any sense whatsoever.

And I, and I think that... you know, I work for Water & Power in Los Angeles and starting in July 11, 1977, and our company owned the property where Manzanar Interpretive Center is, and I didn't realize that. And I was, I didn't realize that and they did a land swap with the bureau of, BLM and now it's made into a park, national park, and I didn't realize that. I didn't, so how ironic. I'm working for a company that owned the land? And once in a while I go up to Owens Valley to, to see, to do demolition on buildings. And at Fort Independence I actually was looking at a Manzanar barrack and the person that was working with me, his name is James Wagner, was born in one of those little buildings that had, as a hospital in Bishop. And so he told me, "This is a Manzanar barrack." And I said, "I didn't know." 'Cause I'm born in August 2, 1952. So how ironic is it, and all I can say that I thought well maybe my mother or her family stayed there since all the barracks had been sold to people inside Owens Valley as buildings. And so it's kind of hard to imagine but that's how little information we know. 'Cause it doesn't say Manzanar barrack on the outside of that building. But, so every time we go to, up to Owens Valley to work, I take people to Water & Power and show them the interpretive center to tell people that at one time we were considered "enemy aliens." Even though you could be born and raised in this country you could still spend the entire time in the camp and literally have nothing left and then the government is gonna give you an apology many, many years later. I don't think that works too well. Because none of my grandparents were alive in 1988. So they never got anything. The last one died in 1978, my father's mother died in 1978 so they never got any apology.

And I think that was really a terrible thing. In fact, one story I want to mention is that after my grandfather was interned in camp he was very depressed for obvious reasons. My father went to him and said, "Look, you can be very, feeling very depressed about losing your business but if you don't support your own children that are in the army, they can lose their lives. You have to support your own, your own, the young people that are in the military because you may never see him again. And after that, Grandpa was in much better shape because he realized that how can he not support the government and his son may never come back alive. My father was reported dead three or four times, so my grandfather, when he, when my father came back to see my, when he was discharged from the military hospital at Camp Carson, Colorado, my grandfather picked him up, never said a word, put his stuff in the truck, took him home. And, and he didn't say anything and my father thought it was strange. But I guess he didn't have to say anything. After everything that happened, what are you going to say? And so he knew he was alive and my grandfather was a person of very few words. In fact, when he died I was twenty-one years old and he never said anything to me. And I only lived two miles from his house. So he, he said hello to my brother once. And that's it. So, all the information was passed from my grandfather to my dad. But he never talked to us directly. 'Cause he was old school Issei. And I'd say hello and he wouldn't say anything.

So, so all I can tell people is that actions speaks louder than words. But, I don't think the Japanese Americans really, when I think about it, they came to America for economic and other freedoms and they had all of it taken away. And I think that, I really think that people should know the story because it's not like you didn't try to help out society. But society really didn't help you for many, many years. And so all I can say is that I like doing things like this because at least people can see that there's a human side to the actual photographs. And, I'd like to, there are some photographs here of my aunt and her husband in camp at Manzanar. We have other photographs as well. So anything I can do to help you people I don't, I don't mind because I think it's good, it's a story that's worth documenting. So when people say it never happened then you can show them this and they can make their own judgment. But I always say, well, if you take yourself and put it in my grandparents' position and take everything you have and put it in two suitcases and be sent away for several years, see what you think. And you probably won't think, you won't be a very happy person. But I think that's exactly the way you have to look at it.

And so, that's why I want to, I'd like to just say something on my father's behalf, and, and my mother's behalf since all of our families were in Manzanar. My father's family and then my mother's family. So there were four of them. They were the Matsumuras. Shutaro Matsumura, Fusaye Matsumura, my aunt Shigeko Matsumura, actually it's Ruth Shigeko Matsumura, and my mother is Frances Fumiko Matsumura. So there is four of them in Manzanar. So we were all in Manzanar. And my aunties are the only two ones that are still alive that were interned. Other than, well, my cousin Lynn was born there, but she was too small to remember. So, do you have any other? I don't know.

RP: I'm okay. Thank you so much, John.

JW: All right. Well, thank you, thank you very much.

<End Segment 7> - Copyright © 2009 Manzanar National Historic Site and Densho. All Rights Reserved.