Day of remembrance: Part 2
| By Paul Kusuda February 19, 1942 is set aside by many local chapters of the Japanese American Citizens League (JACL) as a Day of Remembrance so that people will not forget the aftermath of Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt's Executive Order 9066. During World War II, more than 120,000 persons of Japanese ancestry and others (their spouses) were forced to leave their homes because of parentage, and no other reason. (By the way, my presentations to the Wisconsin Center for Academically Talented Youth [WCATY] students and Jake Altwegg's Monona Grove High School students included part of what I've written about the Day of Remembrance.) Last month, I wrote about some of the legal justification and posted general instructions for the mass evacuation of people from the three West Coast states. A number of families were also relocated from the then-territory of Hawaii. Mass evacuation was not feasible there because such a large proportion of the population was of Japanese ancestry. The guide used was based on the Census Bureau’s definition that being one-eighth Japanese was sufficient to distinguish a person of that racial grouping. Of course, it's obvious that differentiating Japanese from other Asians is not possible, particularly when the guide is one-eighth. But, that's another story. I find it so hard to make a long story short, but I'll try by being selective of topics. The notices stapled on telephone poles were explicit, as I wrote in last month's issue. "How explicit?" you might ask. Well, I'll demonstrate with direct quotations from one posted in San Francisco, dated April 24, 1942. The ones in L. A. were similar: "The Following Instructions Must be Observed: "1. A responsible member of each family, preferably the head of the family, or the person in whose name most of the property is held, and each individual living alone, will report to the Civil Control Station to receive further instructions. This must be done between 8:00 A.M. and 5:00 P.M. on Saturday, April 25, 1942, or between 8:00 A. M. and 5:00 P.M. on Sunday, April 26, 1942. "2. Evacuees must carry with them on departure for the Assembly Center the following property: (a) Bedding and linens (no mattress) for each member of the family; (b) Toilet articles for each member of the family; (c) Extra clothing for each member of the family; (d) Sufficient knives, forks, spoons, plates, bowls and cups for each member of the family; (e) Essential personal effects for each member of the family. “All items carried will be securely packaged, tied and plainly marked with the name of the owner and numbered in accordance with instructions obtained at the Civil Control Station. “The size and number of packages are limited to that which can be carried by the individual or family group. "3. No pets of any kind will be permitted." The final instructions were: "Go to the Civil Control Station between the hours of 8:00 A.M. and 5:00 P.M., Saturday, April 25, 1942, or Sunday, April 26, 1942, to receive further instructions." Of course, we all had many questions for which answers did not exist. Where will we be taken? What can infants carry; how much of their things can we pack when there isn't enough space? How much can a person with disabilities carry? What about the elderly or bedridden? What kind of clothes should we keep if we don't know where we're going? Should we buy more clothes in case we get sent to a cold climate? Questions, questions, and no answers. So we had to guess. I suggested to my skeptical father that since "that which can be carried" was not clearly defined, we should define it as anything we could carry a few feet. My attitude was if our self-definition was rejected, we didn't have too much to lose. My father had a carpenter friend who constructed a good-sized wooden trunk for a very low cost. We filled it as well as a few suitcases (at that time, there weren't wheels) and items bundled in sheets. We lived in an apartment on the second floor, so taking that trunk down was a job and a half, especially after it was filled and tied with heavy-duty ropes. When the time came, my father and older brother lifted the trunk about six inches and were able to carry it about two feet or so. They each also carried a suitcase. My mother carried a sheet-bundle, a suitcase, and some stuff under her arms. My younger sister carried two medium-sized suitcases and some stuff under her arms. I carried one large suitcase, one sheet-bundle, some stuff under my arms, and my portable Royal typewriter (pica-type characters) that I bought with earnings from working at the Los Angeles City College in a national Youth Authority (NYA) project for a gym coach. So, we were following the letter (but not necessarily the spirit) of the INSTRUCTIONS, and we passed! We got to the official site, boarded buses, and were off to the Manzanar Relocation Center (we later called "Camp") situated very near Death Valley and between two small towns - Lone Pine and Independence, California. We were not alone and definitely not independent. At the L.A. Union Station, a train depot, we boarded buses hoping that our belongings would follow us to the camp. They did. We were surprised to see Salvation Army members passing out cookies and donuts and offering cups of coffee and lemonade. It was nice to see friendly Caucasian faces, a change from earlier hostility. I remember also that when the buses stopped on the way, we again saw Salvation Army members. The Red Cross may also have been around; however, my memory fails me. Later, I'll write not about the uneventful bus ride, but about some experiences after we got to the Camp. |