Paul Kusuda’s column
Close Friends become fewer
Paul H. Kusuda
the good old days.

In the December 2010 issue of ASIAN WISCONZINE, I referred to the above-noted September 2008 article and wrote:  “Only
a year later, Carl died of lung cancer and complications, including pneumonia.”  I reminisced about some of the good
times we had and how his widow told me that Las Vegas had changed quite a bit.  Carl and I had enjoyed our trips to Las
Vegas, especially when we found good deals that combined air transportation and hotel accommodations at  ridiculously
low prices (of course, that was many years ago).  Anyway, since Carl left, I haven’t made a Las Vegas trip, not even once.  
Fun was fun, but it ain’t no more.  

Now, sad to report, Akira Toki left. He spent a few months in an assisted-living facility where he died in June 2012, more
than a year ago. He wasn’t too happy about where he was staying because it was not in Madison where he grew up and
had many, many friends and good memories. He missed visiting the middle school named after him. He often roamed the
halls and greeted the middle-school children who were pleased and proud to have him visit as often as he did. He missed
the VA hospital patients who got to know him well since both Akira and his wife Mary were long-time volunteers, more than
50 years. He missed his activities with the Military Order of the Purple Heart, an organization of which he was Past
Commander. He missed his neighbors and decades-long friends. After all, he was born in Madison and could have been
termed a Native Son of Wisconsin.

Akira’s parents, who were immigrants from Japan in the early 1900s, settled in Madison and were the only family of
Japanese ancestry until after World War II broke out. Beginning in 1943, a few Japanese American families moved to
Madison leaving War Relocation Centers to which they had been forcibly incarcerated merely because of their ancestry.  I
left the Manzanar Relocation Center, a desolate place near Death Valley, California, in 1943 to find work in Chicago and to
enroll in the University of Chicago School of Social Service Administration. After receiving a graduate degree and finding a
job as a social worker, I was fortunate to meet and marry Atsuko who had relocated from the Jerome (Arkansas)
Relocation Center to Missouri to receive a Bachelor’s degree in sociology and later moved to Chicago where she joined a
social work unit in the Cook County (Illinois) Department of Public Welfare.  I joined the unit a couple of years after Atsuko,
and that’s where I met her.  About a year after marriage, we moved to Madison in 1951, and that’s when we got to know the
Toki Family and other Japanese American families.

Akira and Mary (who was a transplant from the state of Washington, via a Relocation Center stay) had three children, all
girls.  They received interesting names—Welcome, Carol, and Joy. All, plus Akira’s parents and sisters, had various
responsibilities on the farm. They attended public schools with some difficulties since their farm was not easily accessible
to public transportation. They had to trudge some distance to board a street car that took them into Madison since their
farm was on the outskirts. Akira and his sisters graduated West High School as did Welcome, Carol, and Joy.

Akira took short courses at the University of Wisconsin—Madison to add to his know-how about growing crops. He put his
additional knowledge to good use and was able to improve production on the truck farm his parents owned.  After they
died, he and Mary ran the entire operation; his older and younger sisters married and moved away. Although subject to the
draft, he refused exempt status as a farmer, a high-priority occupation for the duration of World War II.   He was a decorated
veteran, one of the many casualties suffered by the 442nd Regimental Combat Team comprised almost totally of Nisei
(Americans of Japanese ancestry), serving in Italy and Germany.  As an early draftee, he was eventually assigned to the
100th Battalion that originated in Hawaii, sent to the Mainland, and was the core First Battalion of  the 442nd. Many of the
PART 1 OF 2
By Paul H. Kusuda

In the September 2008 issue of ASIAN WISCONZINE, I had an article titled “Acquaintances,
friends, and close friends” and wrote:  “In alphabetical order, my three close friends are Eurial K.
Jordan, Carl F. Sam, and Akira Toki…all are veterans; they were in the marines, the navy, and the
army, respectively.  Each would probably have medals and battle stars if he wore his dress
uniform.”  

I wrote about a bit of biographical material about each of my three close friends and noted:  
“Close friends are not easy to find, and just thinking about them makes a person feel good.”  
That’s still true for me.   I remember reading that a person who has many friends has none.  I
guess that’s the way it is for me.  I don’t have a lot of friends.  Many know me, and I appreciate
knowing them; however, they don’t fit the category of “Close friend.”  Now, two of my close friends
are gone; they didn’t choose to leave; they just died.  And I miss them.  Once in awhile, they show
up in dreams, and it’s great to interact with them again.  Then, I wake up, and remember some of
100th trained at Camp McCoy in central
Wisconsin. The former Hawaiian troops
missed Asian foods, so Akira invited many to
visit his parents’ home in Madison to have
home cooking, Japanese style.

So, memories persist as one gets older but
not necessarily wiser. Among the not- so-
good accompaniments of aging is the loss of
friends and acquaintances. All too often,
Atsuko and I find names of friends and
acquaintances among the deceased. We go
to visitations and memorials; we remember
those who have left us. We feel badly about
those who are succumbing to the effects of
the aging process and good about those
doing their utmost to remain as fit as their
bodies and minds will allow them to be. The
golden years may appear to be such for
many who are looking forward to them;
however the fact is, the gold begins to tarnish
more and more as the aging process
continues. That tarnish has begun to appear
for my third and last close friend Eurial Ken
Jordan.