Tacoma Japanese Language School Oral History Collection

Mary:Okay, first question.

[Unidentified male voice]:Okay, we’re all set.

Lisa:Thank you for joining us today, and this is an interview with Hanna Kae Nakagawa Torimaru, a Nisei woman, aged 83 years old, who lives in the Chicago area. Today is March 11th, 2005 and we’re in Chicago. My name is Lisa Hoffman, I’m with the University of Washington Tacoma.

Mary:And I’m Mary Hanneman, also with University of Washington Tacoma, and Mrs. Torimaru, if we could start out, will you just tell us a little bit about when and where you were born and your family background.

Hanna:All right, briefly, I was born in Tacoma, Washington. My dad had a small restaurant, and my mother worked along with him. Umm… My memory is, initially he had a restaurant, it was diagonally across the street from the City Hall, on Pacific Avenue. And then, about, to my knowledge, I think when I was about seven or eight, he moved to 1512 South Jefferson. And it was known as the State Café. Now in the book called Furusato, that was edited and gathered by somebody named Mr. Madsen [actually “Magden”], he did not mention either the fact that my dad’s restaurant and a barbershop was right next to each other, so we had a 1512 ½ restaurant. But it was on that incline on Jefferson where it ended meeting Commerce and Broadway as it went up that little incline. And I think if memory serves me right, on Commerce side was Carlton Hotel, which I understand, still remains, in business today.

When I was growing up, there used to be a coffee company called the Woods’ Coffee Company. Mr. Woods was very kind and generous, and as a youngster, I recall, after school, going – if you know Jefferson goes diagonally and then Commerce goes, I forgot South or North, I forgot the direction, but anyway, going towards 13th Street, and in the middle of the block, this Woods’ Coffee had about, I’d say, must have been about three or four storey building, and on several floors he had these huge bags of coffee beans. And that used to be one of my main playgrounds, so to speak. That was not exactly a residential street, it was more or less a business, small mom-and-pop little grocery stores and butchers, meat market. And I used to go there as a playground, and he let me have the free-reign of this whole three-storey building, where I’d be going over these huge piles of coffee beans. But he always told me that if I took a business course, he would always find employment for me in his office. And at that time, he had maybe about five or six employees working in the office there. And of course that [burping in the background] was always my main thing was, I wanted… So consequently in those days we used to have – uh it was called Tacoma Secretarial School, which was, in essence, a business college. So that is where I went. As you know, our parents are still very traditionally male-oriented, so that was about as all they could afford, they felt, they could, to send me that.

And I had no desire to go to a four-year college at the time, when I completed my high school. Everything, my whole course was all related to business: shorthand, typing, etc. So I, this is how, except the fine, by the time 1940s came around, negotiations with Japan started to read very badly, and Tacoma was a very, very prejudiced, a lot of discrimination, and there was not a single Caucasian company that hired any Japanese. None, no, I don’t think to this, you know, at that time, there was some--. I had taken the Civil Service, thinking, “Well, if I take a Civil Service, I should be able to find employment.” However, and so I did real well, in fact I was about number two, I understand, you know, as far as the rating went, but it was totally impossible. That nobody would actually… If you have an Asian face, that’s it, you had one strike against you. And the Chinese community that used to live there, which were not that much, but they used to carry huge buttons saying “I am Chinese,” as to distinguish themselves from the rest of us, where the Japanese community was much larger than the Chinese community.

In fact at that time, throughout my middle school, junior high, and high school, I think there were only one or two black person. Hence they were really minority, and they only entered in mass after, during the war, I would say, between the shipyards and the other places that would hire them.

But I gotta tell you one thing, which I have never forgotten or gotten over the pain. And that was, during the mid-thirties, there was a huge longshoreman strike, and of course curiosity got the best of me. I had to go and see where all of this rioting and all this mass-hysteria was going on. And let me tell you, at that time, they were throwing, it looked like little grenades. That isn’t what it was, but that’s what it looked like to me, and actually I think they were tear glass, gas pellets that each of them were throwing, the police and the military would be throwing and then the longshoreman people would throw it back. And they found that didn’t work. I mean, we were able to watch that demonstration there, and it’s really a mass-hysteria is a frightening thing to observe. People are more like animals, they’re not – emotion is so high. But finally what they resorted to was, the police squad car on their tail light, what, what do you call that thing that sticks out, the exhaust? The tear gas was there, exhaust. And so they were going up and down the street, and of course I got caught in that. Wowie, to this day I could remember that tremendous pain, and in your eyes, it just blinded with tears. It’s so severe. You wonder, but that’s how, it’s about the only time anybody’s ever said they hardly believed me, because they didn’t know they would do such a thing. And yet I know, I saw it. Also felt the…the pain.

But I have to tell you, after December seventh, my dad’s restaurant became so busy, because he was in, yeah, he was in restaurant business for so long, that people from the old restaurant and most of our customers were longshoremen. But it was really a frightening period, though, right after the, uh… I mean, with all this restrictions, curfew and… I was just beginning to… Our parents, needless to say, our parents are very strict. Very few of us dated until after high school.

So that’s when finally they… I mean, after all, we’re what, eighteen, nineteen years old, so we’re allowed, so consequently, our dating life was just beginning, at least for me, and then this curfew came. Eight p.m. Between eight p.m. and six a.m. you had to be in your, in your house. And the brother of the boy I was dating, I think he was seventeen or eighteen, he was caught after curfew. And we used to visit him. In Tacoma at that time, was, I don’t know if it’s still there or not, but it was around, not ninth, but a little bit further, just before the hill goes up to, leading up to Stadium there? There used to be a city jail across from, used to be, I think, electric company on one side and the city jail was on this side. And that’s where the other street that went down into the harbor? Into the pier where they used to have, I think it was Pillsbury or some flour company besides lumber companies.

At least the lumber companies where my dad used to take us fishing. And once again I’d be scrambling over the piles of lumber, in and out, and Dad would be fishing on the pier where little openings were there. And you know, when I think back, my dad, all the years, not one day did he close the restaurant. It was a seven-day operation. But it was small… We only had about twenty stools, and so it was just, he didn’t have to hire any extra help, it was just he and my mother. And at that time he used to have a, there was another old, Japanese lady that sort of was a babysitter for my brother and myself. My brother who was six years young, younger. But he never took a day off. He never got sick. And fishing was his hobby, and so between five and seven o’clock is when he’d go fishing, before he opened the restaurant, and then some-, in the afternoon, between two and five o’clock, is the slow period, so either he’d go fishing, or he used to love those old cowboy movies and there was a theater about next block. So I saw a great deal of old Ken Maynard and who…some of those old, old cowboy movie films that we used to see.

And that was his, you know, when you compare, he had so little pleasures, and yet he was the most gentle, wonderful person. And you talk about Japanese families, male-chauvinism showing up. There were many, many families, yes, whose fathers were extremely strict and, you know, they’re the Lord, the Master of the House. Well my dad never was, and it wasn’t until years later I found out why. Apparently it was an arranged marriage. Now he came here just before 1900s, I think, because he used to talk about the restaurant that his sister had, where the Indians would come in. A big –to exchange land for meals, because they didn’t have cash, so they wanted to give. And he said that “if I had any intention of staying in this United States,” he would’ve picked that up. As it was, he said, “I’d be a millionaire now,” because these Indians they’re not, they’re ignorant. All they had was owning these proper-, land. Which they were just willing to give up, just for a meal or two. Because the Union Pacific Railroad came by and bought all those land, you see. So, but at that time, no, his idea was not to remain here but to go. And of course as time progressed, it got to the point where this was more his home. He had spent more of his time here, than barely not quite twenty when he came here.

So it just became natural. And of course it took him until what, 1956, before they became, or were allowed to attain citizenship. And which both my mother and dad did.

Uh, I don’t know what else I could say…

Lisa:You were just mentioning why he wasn’t the Master of the House.

Hanna:Oh, yes, that’s because he came from a merchant family. In other words, his family owned a lumber mill. And when his two elder brothers took over, they bankrupted it. And this is why he decided he has no future, and he’s gonna come over here. And in the meantime, he had another brother, who apparently was a doctor, and, uh, he got a hold of anoth-, uh, my mother’s, on my mother’s side, it was either her brother-in-law or her brother who also was a physician, and they worked together, and they… Each claimed they had a younger sib, so the arranged marriage came in there. Now my mother’s family were all in the, employed by the Imperial Family. So her grandfather, I think, was a physician to the Emperor. So she grew up as, with, mingling with the aristocrats. And grew up in the so-called Imperial Garden area. So because her father, her grandfather, they were all in the employ of the Emperor’s so forth. So when we were growing up, I did have, she had this high-falluting idea that the majority of the Japanese that came here were illiterate and they were farmer-, farming family. She graduated high school. Her… She grew up as child-playmates… There’s one lady, and I can’t remember her name, but she was a baroness, who took up Margaret Sanger’s, you know, something about this child, not abortion but planned-parenthood type of a program, and she was extremely strong into that. But I know my mother, I said, “whooie.” That was her child-playmate. So she had rather high-falluting ideas, which is the reason why I never went to the Japanese school, because she was afraid I would pick up the Japanese language, [which] was commonly used by them.

And there were very, very many different things that at the time I did not appreciate, but I realized later, as I grew older, why. And so my dad, be coming from a merchant family, felt…. He, he treated her so well. He sort of catered to her, so there were... When I think of it now, maybe she had some spoiled little habits – and he felt badly because she had to work alongside him in the restaurant. And she wasn’t used to that. Excep-, except that since she went to one of the, it’s almost like a finishing school when you consider, so she graduated from this very prestigious school, along with the other members of the, you know, the aristocratic family. And though she never explained all of that to me, [clanking in background] I couldn’t understand why she was so, there were certain areas that was kinda on the snobbish side, and she had a certain air of elegance about her, which I guess now is your breeding, that kind of makes you stand out somewhat. And no, at this stage it sounds like you’re bragging, but that isn’t it. I couldn’t understand why she had so many restrictions, and it came from the posture, the way you walked… In fact she was saying when she was sleeping – her grandmother lived with them – and she said, “even when I was sleeping, I couldn’t sprawl my legs. I’m sound asleep even as a child, grandma would come,” and she says, slap her legs together. And she said when you’re go-, when you’re sitting, you don’t sit with… I mean there were little things which is really a pain in the neck. But she wasn’t that strong as far as the sleeping, but during the day, yes, she was very strong. That there were certain way one carries themselves, and blah, blah, blah. Which I didn’t appreciate when I was growing up.

So we didn’t even live with the rest of them. And that’s why when these girls were talking about their elementary school being Central School. I didn’t go to Central School. There was only one other family that went to the school, elementary school that I went to. And that was called, at that time, Longfellow. And I don’t, I think it’s, I don’t think it was, I don’t know, not long after, I don’t know when, but I, no, I don’t think it’s there any, anymore. But it was, I don’t remember the address, but we sure did a lot of walking.

Mary:Where did your family live, then?

Hanna:Twenty-some odd hundred South Fawcett. So it was away from the rest of them, where from they used to live – from about, I’d say from where the church used to be, from that block on the other… I can’t remember now, isn’t that terrible? I can’t recall north, south, or what. Is Nadium, is Stadium considered the north and Lincoln south?

Mary/Lisa:Yes.

Hanna:Okay, all right. Then they were, most of them were south, so consequently they went to Central. Elementary School. The majority of them.

Lisa:Okay.

Hanna:Of course we all met when we went to McCarver, so I, as far as, I didn’t associate too much with the Japanese until I, except through church.

Lisa:Which church?

Hanna:And McCarver. Methodist. Or I guess they changed it, the Whitney Memorial, or something like that. But is the church building nowadays off totally demolished?

Mary:No, it’s still there.

Hanna:Oh is it?

Mary:But it’s no longer functioning as a church. The congregation moved—

Hanna:I understand they moved to some place in Puyallup.

Mary:That’s right.

Hanna:Okay. Oh so the building has not been demolished.

Mary:The building is still there. And so when you showed us the pictures—

Hanna:That one that you saw was initially prior to the building of that, was the parsonage? The family used to live together and we used to have our Sunday Schools in the basement of that old, old building. Which, I think, has, I don’t know if that’s in existence, or demolished. I can’t recall whether… It’s just behind the main church building.

Mary:But your parents… That was an important part of their world, and—

Hanna:It was, really, and ours too. Uh… Well, when you consider our whole social life was revolved around church groups – youth groups, and so forth, that actually you could see by some of the YPCC pictures – that was the center of our… In fact, my Japanese, that I learned, our church had what they called Futabagakkuien. And it was just for our members of the church who did not go to Japanese school. So there were a few of us. And that’s where I learned the basic katana and a little hiragana, but certainly did not progress into, say, history or anything. It was basically, basically devoted to learning how to read and write. Not so much read, either, but at least write.

But thanks to that, after the war, I had my, the parents came here, because my father and mother were able to get out as domestic help. Don’t forget I got out of camp in May of ’43. Prior to that, the only way I could get out was either go to college and go in as a house-girl or domestic. I disliked domestic work to the point where it wasn’t worth me to go out and do somebody else’s housework was just something that was so totally unacceptable to me. So I stayed there until such time, based on my Civil Service rating, I was able to come out, offered a position with the Chicago Post Office Department. And so this is how I came out.

Lisa:But, and your parents had left earlier than you?

Hanna:No. Oh no, they were still in camp. In fact, while they were in camp is when they had, segregated Tule Lake when they had that very big uproar – something about, you know… I was there when they had that, because I was working in the Administration Building when they had this mass rioting, so to speak. And you know, its… They always talk about the Japanese being so unemotional and blah, blah, blah. Forget it. That’s a bunch of hooey, because we’re just as human as the next. Emotionally, we could be just as violent as the next race or whatever. But I mean years we were supposed to be… When we went into camp is when our eyes were totally opened. We found husbands and wives since they didn’t divorce, but they led separate lives. Or there was incest, there was… I mean, all these unpleasant, you know, rumors that you always were told never happened to the Japanese. Forget it. You get into the camp and everything is exposed. You have all the problems that the human uh, you know, would have, regardless. It had nothing to do with race or age, you had all that, as far as I was concerned at my age, umm, it became apparent. That oh, we’re not so holier-than-thou type. I mean, like the rioting, and we had people be- getting beaten up for expressing their views, especially after that, that twenty-seven and twenty-eight question about your loyalty, about blah, blah, blah. And of course our parents will say, “And we from the Pacific Northwest, we’re more, we’re not quite as Japanese-y as the Californians.” I don’t know why, for whatever reason.

So we didn’t, our parents, we didn’t dare exp-, really, even as a teenager, it was a lot of fun for me. It was too much fun that I neglected what I could have had, learned so many things had I… I mean, there were many, many lessons, and since I’m already a young adult, nineteen, twenty, uh I didn’t attend school as such, but there were many classes that were teaching so many things. And of course I never took advantage of that. I just had one will of a good time, as far as I’m concerned. It was social life from – except we worked. We had regular working hours, and I always worked in the office, administrative office, because of my secretarial skills. So consequently, when the big riot began, you see, we were all enemies according to these people that had raised such strong feelings. And that mass hysteria – let me tell you, it’s beyond description, how angry they are, and how this so-called mob violence.

I kind of have to tell you one funny story. After about several months, we were allowed to leave the so-called area. I mean, we had water towers, okay, where the soldiers would be having their weapons and everything, on the four corners of the, the camp. But it got to a point where they would allow us to take hikes and go up to the nearby little mountain area there. And so one day, so that made us all – Sears’ catalogue really got a lot of orders from us – wearing boots, because there were rattlesnakes around. So we’d wear the boots and then go up in the area. And one day this boy and I walk in through gate. Unbeknownst to us, there was another couple that were engaged in you-know-what, so they were asked to go, leave and go down to the camp. Well needless to say, they did not go through the main entrance/exit.

Since they were caught, they’re not going to go to a very obviously gate. However we, my friend and I, innocently just walked through. So we were tagged as that couple. What was surprising is when I came to Chicago, and after, now this is about a whole year later, I’m working in, with a liquor-distributing company, and somebody pointed out and said, apparently she was at Tule Lake, and she told another… and this outfit hired quite a few of us Japanese-Americans that came out of camp. She was happened to be one of them, and she happened to be one that pointed the finger to her other associates there that I was the one that came down with this. And so word got around that I was pregnant and blah, blah, blah. And at that time I was so humiliated I actually brought my baby, of course I’ve been married now, bring her because she was a identical image of him [points off-screen, perhaps to husband]. But I still remember that terrible humiliation feeling. And to think that followed me.

I think I better tell you about another fun story that happened. It’s not really funny, it’s scary when you think of it. We were first from Tacoma sent to Pinedale. Which is considered a temporary, the called it “assembly center.” Just before we were evacuated, there was a boy that I went out once, just once. He was normal at the time, but prior to our evacuation, he was very mentally disturbed person. And in this mental disturbed state of mind, I was the girl that he was going to marry. So when we moved to, was evacuated, they pulled him out of Steilacoom. He was okay as an inpatient, he was in Steilacoom, but they pulled him out and sent him with us. Well during the night he’d be visiting the, at the time we used to call the latrines, which was the bathhouses there, you know I had the lavatory and this and that. He’d go into the female, he’d be in and out, and he’d pretend, I mean he acted very, very…very disturbed. Everybody knew he was disturbed, but he had this fixation upon me. And as a Japanese, he was built physically almost six foot, a very heavy-set, physically strong individual. At the time, when they first committed him to Steilacoom, it took five or six heavy-set Caucasian to pin him down before they could shoot a tranquilizer in him to get him to go, you know, be taken to Steilacoom. So you know physically he was very, very strong. So my parents were terrified of him when he’d come to the house. And he stayed there how long, I don’t know how long.

And finally, we were able to get, Fumi Hatori (unintellible name?) was one, and another person whose name I don’t recall. But the three of us were, uh, went to Fresno. Pinedale was, I think, ten, fifteen miles from city of Fresno. Now Fresno had a mental state hospital there. And in order to commit him to that hospital, three of us had to be witness, and state why we wanted him confined in a… Because he was actually a danger, or the rest of us were really afraid of him, because of his bizarre behavior. And so he did, and we did get him committed there, but for years it used to haunt me, because he’d come in his hospital gown and we’d be, we’d face each other. And he’d look me in the eye and he’ll say, “Hanna, how can you do this to me? You know I’m not crazy.” I mean this man could pass off as a professor when he was in his bizarre, you know, I mean, beyond…

Anybody who did not know him would think he was totally perfect. I don’t now what kind of mental state he were diagnosed, medically diagnosed him, but he definitely… The rest of us as far as we’re concerned, he was a very mentally unstable person. But we did get him committed, but boy did that used to haunt me. When he’d look me straight in the eye and say he’s not, “How come you could do this to me?” type of a thing. And it used to really bother me for several years. But, and then I find out after we’re released from camp that his family comes to Chicago…moves. That again I was just hoping and hoping I would not run into him. And fortunately we did not. And he apparently married a Caucasian nurse, so life after camp I think stabilized, because I didn’t hear anything. But I understand, though, that he too has passed on many years ago. But at that time, now… In fact I think his sister still resides here, but those were some of the bizarre things that happened, you know, to me.

Now when you come back to my parents, they still had that Japanese male being the… I mean, they were willing to spend…my brother went to University of Chicago. And he got a Master’s degree there, and then he went to Harvard, and he got a Master’s there. At the time, he was given, oh I don’t know, I forgot, what’s the highest, magna something, or summa? Summa cum lau-?

Mary:Summa cum laude.

Hanna:Something like that. And at the time, he got, I think, a summa cum laude or whatever from this Design School of Harvard, but at the time it was not recognized as such. However, he later was employed by I. M. Pei, I don’t know if you’ve heard of this, he was with them for over, I’d say over twenty-five years. And he was a project manager for Oklahoma City, that was one of the first major project that he was the project manager, where they turned the city totally urban? They demolished everything, became brand new. So he was quite familiar with that Oklahoma bombing, because that was right in the center of his project, where he had built all that. But my parents, who were able, were willing to spend their money to educate him, but they felt one-year business college was more than ample for me. Which at the time, I didn’t, I didn’t feel, well I had no interest anyway, so it didn’t bother me at that time. But later on, as I come to think of it, I could see where there was a little bit more…hmph…feeling of male dominance there. And this is where my father was so good to my mother, because he felt that she deserved, that he made her work so hard, and she wasn’t used to that. Because I used to wonder why she was so afraid of sticking her hands in the hot water. She’d always have to wear gloves. And there were lots of little things that she used to do that I couldn’t – I mean, if you’re in a restaurant, you know, man, you, we had no, no dishwasher, the time that I was growing up it was just a small re-, everything was hand-washed…

Mary:And you say that she had an attitude that maybe she didn’t want you to go to the Japanese language school because she didn’t want you to mix with those kids—

Hanna:Because there were cert-, many words that she sounded – I guess Tokyo Japanese is considered one of the better ones. But like I was talking to the others, you know, when we were growing up, we were, we felt, at least I felt, extremely intimidated. And so, we were never, we were never invited, for one thing. number two, you, as a child you did not converse with adults. I was intimidated because there were so many levels in the Japanese language.

A polite way to speak to this one, a way to speak with your peers, another language – the same word, but there’s a little added, either a prefix or a suffix, to make it a little bit more polite and formal when you’re addressing adults. And it was kind of intimidating when you’re a child. You never know whether you’re using the right words or not, and besides, they have a habit of shunning you anyway. So all you do is give your formal greetings, and then you walk away. And not listen or participate in their conversation.

Lisa:So what language did you speak with your parents?

Hanna:Japanese.

Lisa:And did your mom emphasize the formal aspects?

Hanna:Yes. Very much so. In fact, her language was…even though there were, my dad, too, was from Tokyo, but he’s a merchant. At that time, merchant was considered bottom level, class of…if you’re talking about class. And apparently that was quite important in their upbringing. And so her language would be a little bit different, and her language and my dad’s language, compared to some, the dialogues [sic, dialect?] of the country, were very different. In fact, George’s folks [points off camera] came from Kagoshima. Now their language, and neither of his parents were farmers either, although they eventually were farming here when they came here. But my mother could not understand their dialect when they’re speaking with other Kagoshima people. It was that different. I, I would not know, but because when George’s mother had come to visit us one year, and was conversing on the phone with another fellow Kagoshima person, my mother said she did not understand one word that they were saying. So that’s how vastly different the various dialogues [sic] from different sections from Japan, as small as it is, still, there was that clear distinction between their, you know, dialogues [sic]. To the point where they can’t understand. Now we could understand. Accent might be a little different, but we could understand whether it was the Southerners, or the East, New York, but I guess Japanese would have that much… Maybe not so much now, but at least in the era that our parents grew up in, obviously there was.

Mary:Did you speak English by the time you started public schools?

Hanna:It was very difficult. It was one of my poor, heh – because, uh, no, we spoke Japanese at home. And then don’t forget, we were made to feel somewhat, always had the feeling of second-class citizen, because even our teachers would shame us, and made it sound like it was criminal to speak another language at home. But there was no other way to communicate at home. ‘Course, when they have a business, they knew, they had limited English. But as far as coming down to conversing, no, we did not. It was all in Japanese.

Lisa:What did you speak with your brother after you started school?

Hanna:Oh, we’ve always spoke English.

Lisa:You did.

Hanna:Yes, as kids. Among us we never spoke Japanese. It was always English. I wish now, of course, I wish like Chizu, for instance, is so knowledgeable, I really admire her knowledge of… And there are very few among us Niseis who are knowledgeable as she is. Of course, her main interest, I guess, as a youngster, she said she always had an interest in the Japanese. So consequently, like I say, there’s none of us among my friends who would even come near her knowledge. We’re to the point where she was actually, I guess, teaching Japanese. And also teaching, now the shamisen instrument, too. But she always had a good singing voice, I recall from the childhood days. She’s a remarkable woman, you know, very independent. Even now, her life involves taking in all the free activities that the Chicago Cultural Center has to offer.

I really admire her, her… I don’t know. I tend to be almost like a recluse. Whatever we do we go together, and of course arts and entertainment isn’t far from his cup of tea [points off camera]. It seems like as we grow older, it comes even less, you know, one always thinks, “Oh boy, after you retire, you’re going to take in…” We used to have theater subscriptions, and this and that. Well, as you get older, you get reluctant to go out. [siren blaring in waves in background] It becomes a chore to get dressed. I can’t believe I’m getting this way myself, where I just assume it’s too much of a bother and a hassle to get dressed. But I… Like I told my doctor, half of the time you don’t know what’s abnormal and… You know, because it’s an entirely new life for us. It never occurred to us to discuss what we’d be doing if we reached this age. There’s something…we wonder now, “How come I never discussed that?” We never talked about, I think more people now are so aware of retirement, that it seems to be main topic of, you know, the forty, fifty, and sixty people. But we never discussed it, and I just don’t understand why we never did.

Mary:But your mother, it sounds like, and maybe your father, came out to Chicago, ultimately, with you? Why did your family decide to come to Chicago after you got out? Well, you went because of the Post Office.

Hanna:Uh, well my folks came because they were offered this job in the Oak Park, Illinois, and they had an extremely good high school. My brother was fourteen, fifteen. And my parents were very, always thought about education. And I do admire them in seeking out a place where they heard about, I guess they were enquiring anyway, and so they went out as domestics. My dad’s always had the restaurant so he could cook, and of course Mom could do the other domestic work. And they would accept my brother, who would be going to the high school there.

And so there was one time, that’s why – I was already here, because when I got married, I got married at Grant Camp, in Joplin, Missouri. He was stationed at Camp Crowder, Missouri. So this is where, that’s where we got married, and then…uh, he could have stayed at Camp Crowder, but he gets this gung-ho spirit, and volunteers to join the infantry. He was in the medical corps, but… So consequently, it seems to me, I forgot, February or March, he takes off, leaves me pregnant, to do the moving, and getting back into Chicago.

Lisa:What year was that?

Hanna:1943

Lisa:Okay.

Hanna:No, ’44. I got out of camp in ’43, and this was in ’44. And that’s when I really hit the discrimination part. Even though we grew up in Tacoma, knowing that, uh… We just took it for granted we’re second-class citizens, so we never expected or demanded as we were growing up. But when we came here, I, it was very difficult, trying to find an apartment. I could still remember that first apartment, that we used to have the, call it WRA. I think it was War Relocation Authority. And through their office they found an apartment for me, and it was around forty-hundred on South Lake Park Avenue, which right now is right smack in the black-ghetto area. At that time it wasn’t that way. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget the nightmare there. Turn on the light and you see roaches all over. I’d never seen roaches. I was just so freaked out, I go to the bed…

And when I moved in there, there was a young Hawaiian couple. And she said, she never said anything about the roaches, but she said, “Watch out your bed, for the bedbugs.” I said, “Bedbugs? What the heck’s a bedbug?” She said, “Well, they’re in the mattress.” I thought, “Okay,” so I went to go (unintelligible) and dumb me, you know, I don’t know any better, [coughs] and get a mattress cover. I thought, “That’ll do it.” [coughs] Oh my God, [coughs] around midnight, all these little spots are on the white sheet…oh, oh, you talk about…I’m afraid to go in the kitchen to sit. There’s these things crawling all over the – I don’t know how I survived. But I never cried so much, and sent him a letter, you know, cussing him out so bad, I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter with so much tearstained and blurred, because I was just so mad. Because at the time, I didn’t have anybody here.

Umm, I think a month or two, or so later my folks came out, but they were living in Oak Park. No way for me, I mean, they’re out as a domestic, so they have their little living space, but certainly no room for me as an outsider. And at that time there were several of my friends who were living on the north side, and so I had approached their landlady to ask if I paid extra, whether I could room in with them. This was wartime, so this was pretty rough period, and not everybody was accepting, especially if you’re a Japanese. They don’t care what your citizenship is, or anything, just the mere fact that you had a Japanese face, just, you know, automatically. So it was a pretty rough period there.

Lisa:Were you able to move, to live with your friends?

Hanna:Uh, no. She would not accept a-, I did stay one night, but no. I don’t remember what happened after that. I think I got another apartment. I did get another apartment.

Lisa:You said that growing up you just accepted that you were a second-class citizen in Tacoma. How did you know as a child and as a young adult? What kinds of experiences did you have?

Hanna:You know, the Japanese have a certain amount of humiliation and humbleness within them. They’re never aggressive; they’re on the passive side. And this is what I say when I didn’t push, I just knew we would never be wholeheartedly accepted, with the freedom of doing things, or being, especially getting a job. When I see all these college graduates come back and open up grocery stores, or work in… I mean all the self-employed type of income, you know, to, to… Of course, Tacoma wasn’t, we were among the oldest. There were not very many. Now California had much older, long-established people. Whereas, at least around Tacoma, there were not very many who were, say, much older… If they’re ten years, five to ten years older, and there were not that many. So, right after the war, when we had this JACL, we used to meet and these were kind of scary times too, because…

In fact, when I recall, December 7th was a Sunday. And I had a date with my boyfriend at the time, and we were going, I think, to visit the Mount Rainier or something. And we co-, and this is about nine or ten o’clock. And I couldn’t figure out why people were giving us this very unpleasant-looking, uh… They’re staring at us with such… It’s not just a natural look. There’s something fierce, angry looks that they were giving us. And we didn’t know why. And some of them actually, and I don’t know how many times this guy I was with would say, “Goddamn, how come…the nerve.”

And this happened time and time again that people would actually make us swerve to get off the street. And it puzzled us. We had no idea until we got home what had taken place that morning. And of course about five o’clock in the afternoon he [gestures off screen] walks on, and he comes sauntering into our restaurant. I looked at him and I said, “What the heck are you doing here? All the GIs were told to report and get back to your base and here you come sauntering in here.” Well he wasn’t in there more than five minutes, by golly, when two MPs came. Booted him out, yelling at him “(mumbles), get back to your…” you know. And to this day I don’t understand how he was able to walk freely, ‘cause he said he was in Seattle that day, took the bus into town and walked to our restaurant from… But nobody caught him and nobody said anything, and I though, “Well how strange.” But it wasn’t in my, I wasn’t talk to him more than five minutes ‘til the two MPs came in, and told him to get back.

Lisa:You said earlier that many of the Chinese-Americans wore buttons. And did you those buttons just then at, in the ‘40s, or was this something you saw growing up.

Hanna:No, this was, this was right after December 7th.

Lisa:Okay.

Hanna:After that. Because they wanted to distinguish themselves.

Mary:And you also mentioned that there were a couple of black families.

Hanna:Yeah, a very few.

Mary:Could you compare how you observed they were treated, versus how the Chinese were treated, versus how the Japanese-Americans were treated? I mean, can you have any reflections on-.

Hanna:No…

Mary:Were they second-class citizens in the same way that you, you were?

Hanna:I, I, I really don’t know. I have no idea whether they were. And the only reason I say that is because all the teachers made it sound, to us, that it was totally unacceptable to speak anything other than English at home. Number one, that was the key. And they were all aware that all of us kids all spoke Japanese at home. But some were a little bit more harsh in their expr- explaining. It’s to the point where I never took a Japanese lunch to school. I wouldn’t be caught dead with rice balls or anything. Totally different now. I mean when you listen to my granddaughter, and the way they talk, if she has a Japanese one, everybody’s pouncing on… I mean, everybody’s become such a conno-, you know, a connoisseur of all kinds of ethnic foods. After World War II, the kids, these kids totally accepted, there’s no shame involved in your ethnic food, which there was, the period we were growing, growing up. So I don’t know if that was responsible for us constantly speaking English among ourselves. We never spoke Japanese.

Lisa:How did your parents feel when you told them “I’m not taking rice balls to school, I want” I don’t know what, a sandwich or something.

Hanna:They didn’t, no, they, they did…but don’t forget, they’re…they’re so passive, you know, I don’t know how else to explain it. Everything was ummmmmm [shrugs], we never, none of us, I guess, would be extrovert or aggressive in any way of our lives. We always had a tendency to back off, avoid confrontation, it was always. And then my mind, as I said, we just grew up with it and accepted it, because we could see that we were not an exact equal with... In the same token too, you see, we very few of us had really developed close relationships with any Caucasians. The one exception was our neighbor. We had a neighbor named… And they happened, and she happened to be my mother’s closest friend, see. So despite the fact that she claims she doesn’t know English, they’re able to communicate.

And you’d have a restaurant, so you know you’ve got to be able to verbalize something there, when you run a business, and you’re meeting the public. And then they were so close, that I still remember her. Mrs. Tompkins. But they were really the only close – we never developed, I don’t know why, except – I guess we just felt we weren’t good enough to be their friends. I don’t know. It never became an issue, it was just something we took for granted that you can’t, because we never socialized after school. We’d mingle with them, of course, and participate in the various activities that the school may have had to offer, but then once you left the school-. Of course, I was the only one that would participate in the after school activities, because the rest of them all had to go to Japanese school, and I never went. So consequently left me free to participate in whatever school had to offer in the after school activities. But, uh, so they were restricted in that respect, from participating in after school sports.

Lisa:You’ve talked a bit…oh, I’m sorry.

Hanna:No, go ahead.

Lisa:You’ve talked a bit about some of the class differences in the Japanese community, and particularly your mother’s position. How, as a child growing up, did you, did you understand those differences?

Hanna:Well…

Lisa:What clues were there?

Hanna:I know her friends were not illiterates. The ones that she did have all had high school education. And in that era, I guess that was pretty rare for females to have had completed high school education. Even among males, especially in the rural areas, where the majority of the people did come from, I guess even the males, there were very few so-called with high school or any real higher-level formal education, aside from like the Japanese school teachers and so forth. But I never… At the time, no, I don’t know. But I know that, the only reason I know is because they used to have what they call, how, how would I describe this? They came from Hiroshima. There was a something “ken” organization. Another district/regional area would have, you know, they’d have… And my mom never participated because there were never enough. And so, she said, we never had “ken” in her, because she came from Tokyo. My father came from Tokyo. There were never any groups large enough to even have a group. There were a lot of people from other areas, but none. So the few friends that she had, apparently were all city people.

Lisa:Interesting.

Hanna:At least, it never occurred to me to question it, but when you raised that question, yes, I have to admit that I think… So I used to wonder why we never had what they called, I guess they call it kenjinkai or something like that, on those various – they used to have various groups that formed when they were from a certain area. And, but she said they never, I know we never… In fact, my taste for Japanese food was very limited, because we had the restaurant, so we ate mostly American dinner, dishes. We always had Japanese, but it was not that concentrated as the, as the other people were, they would devote, whether it was breakfast or dinner or whatever, but we always had the American food available. So once in a while, of course, she would resort to making a few. So it was a big deal for us if we… Going out to dinner was a big deal, but having a restaurant we never went out to dinner, you know.

But…and when you think of it, you know, boy did we walk! We walked everyplace because we didn’t have cars until early ‘30s. And all those hills and...that we-. I mean, when you think of it… Our parents were…I mean, I can remember ten or eleven and coming home in the dark from visiting friends. And no thought was ever given as to having any kind of fear, or none of this modern feeling of caution, be-. Or even as adults now in Chicago, you’re afraid to walk in certain areas. I mean, you’d be foolish to do so. But during those days, you left your doors unlocked, and, uh, life was so much freer. It also taught you a lot, to be more alert, too. Because you didn’t have all of these devices or people telling, protecting you, I mean, sometimes it gets kind of silly right now, when you think of it. They kind of go overboard in trying to protect you, when plain old common sense would do it. But I think part of – at least, maybe that’s my elderly stage that I tend to feel that this overcompensating to protect the young ones, it’s a good to a certain point and then not good, because they don’t have to look out for themselves. Others going to take the lookout for you.

Mary:Well it sounds like it must have been a big change, then, after December 7th, and then there’s a curfew and then… It was probably, or maybe scary, to be out…

Hanna:Yeah, in youth there was no so-called violence, attacks on individuals. They may be in the papers very, you know, negative feelings and all this, but it was all…Personally, as far as, I didn’t feel any… You just felt a little bit… Now, we were sort of foolish too. My girlfriend and I used to take bike riding. And we’d take that – go through on, you know, we were supposed to have been not allowed to go near the harbors? There were restricted areas that we were not allowed to go. But we did, and I don’t know whether it was because we were stupid or just didn’t care, or… When I think of it now, we’re just lucky we didn’t caught, I guess. Especially after I view what happened to my boyfriend’s brother, who was caught after curfew, I think it was around Broadway and 13th, or something like that. It must have been about 8:30 or 9:00 or 9:30, something like that. But this poor kid was thrown in with the hardened criminals in jail. We used to visit him. He even had Eisenhower’s brother as his lawyer to try to get him, and the stigma that was attached, because it was considered a federal offense – followed him right through the rest of his life. I mean, his citizenship right was taken away. He couldn’t get a Social Security Number. I mean, this poor kid really, uh… When we were evacuated they’d let him go and join his family. We thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. The fact that he was picked up after curfew became a very major federal offense that took away all his citizenship rights. And so after the war, I understand, his father bought him a gas station or something, so he could at least have means to earn a living. Isn’t that horrifying though?

Mary/Lisa:Yes, it is.

Hanna:For a stupid teenager’s uh…mistake. Or yet, I think when you’re a teenager, there’s that wild, daring feeling, to just try and see if you could get away with type of a feeling, I guess.

I don’t know whatever it was that made him do that, I don’t know, but oh he sure paid a very, very heavy, heavy, you know, penalty throughout the rest of his life, actually.

Lisa:So the restrictions you talked about, along the harbor. Were these um, again, after December 7th?

Hanna:Oh yeah. It was after December 7th.

Lisa:And just for Japanese-Americans?

Hanna:Yes, and just for us.

Lisa:Okay.

Mary:Um, and you said that, um, your father’s restaurant was very busy after December 7th.

Hanna:Yeah, everybody felt sorry for him. And all these old customers would come, and I used to think “God darn,” you know. And we had his suitcase all packed, because he was instructing kendo. Now kendo to us was a sport. And they took it as a Black Dragon Society or something, I don’t know what that, you know, that attached, but there was a great deal of stigma attached to the fencing. So his name was inadvertently omitted from the annual book. And this is why he was not picked up. Everybody else who were leaders, so called, in the various Japanese organizations were all picked up by the FBI. But, and also, people associated with the kendo group. But Dad’s name was inadvertently omitted. So they never picked him up. But I still remember having a suitcase right there ready.

Lisa:So you were expecting it.

Hanna:But they – yeah, that he would be picked up. But he was… But I mean, we had two flags. Now as far as I’m concerned, there was American flag and the Japanese flag. And before we started each of our, you know, our training sessions, or whatever, you know, to learn the kendo. But then that disturbed my whole life. Not that we were able to date, or anything, but Monday, Wednesday, Friday, from, I think it was from seven to ten, we’d be at this thing. At this, you know, we’d have to go, and of course my brother and I both participated.

Mary:Was it usual for girls to participate in kendo?

Hanna:Yeah, in kendo. It’s really, when you think of it, whether it’s judo, or kendo, or this, all the other martial arts. It’s not just sports, it’s supposed to come – there’s some kind of an inner, I don’t know what you call it, but it isn’t just the out, exterior. There has to be some inner something or other. But they sure required a lot of willpower, let me tell you. They used to have it at the Buddhist church, in the basement. Unheated. So you’re barefoot, okay, but you wear the hakamas, and they’re regular in the army. In fact, I still have all that equipment. I don’t know what the heck to do with it. My brother, or my son, says, “I want it. ” But we sure got banged up, let me tell you. But we’d have to sit on the floor, and there was a lot of feeling of respect involved with their instructor. And your competition. I mean, even in judo you see they always bow, there’s a certain amount of respect for the individual, respect for the sport, and I guess it teaches self-discipline, I don’t know.

Mary:So did your dad teach that class?

Hanna:Mm-hmm. Yeah.

Mary:So even though they were involved with the Buddh-, with the Methodist church, he taught kendo at the Buddhist church.

Hanna:That’s right. He…with the… that’s right, that was at the Buddhist church. Uh huh.

I can’t think of any other, any other thing that the Buddhists and the Christian participated, you know, as a combination. I know that we never had the Japanese movies at our church. It was always at the Buddhist church that that they would have, I forgot whether it was once or twice a month, or whatever, that they would have these Japanese movies. And of course as my – I can recall my teenage, those were the days that we young ones, you know, we didn’t care about the movie, it was the socializing with the others. Because they used to come in from Fife, and Puyallup, and Sumner, the farming areas there. They used to come and attend. So that was a time for us to meet the guys from the other areas, regardless of religious affiliation.

It was just a social gathering. So most of us would hang outside and socialize. But I recall having good memories of that. It was kind of interesting, because there were very few of us who dated. And it’s only after, way after, high school, that our parents would finally…

You know, when you think of it, we had so much respect for our parents. Their word really was law, and we were afraid of them. They sure didn’t spare the rod, let me tell you. If you, uh… But my dad was really wonderful, a gentle soul, and I think it was about, I’m sure it was about a month or two before he passed away that we had a real – rare, real good long talk about his life and what he felt about, how he felt about my mother, because he was such a gentle, wonderful person. Real kind. Even my granddaughter – not my granddaughter, my daughter – remembers, and says what a wonderful person he was, and how she loved him, and how the one thing that strikes her mind… See he was a very, very good cook and baker, and when she’d say she wants a cookie, she said, “Grandpa is the only one I know that would say ‘okay.’” She said, “he whips up enough batter to make one stinking cookie. That’s it, just one cookie. Enough batter to make one and bake.” It’s not like he went out to the store and bought it. No, she said she want a cookie, and she said in her mind she could still remember how…how she was. Because she said every time the rest of us made a cookie it was always a dozen or two. And there were just one. So that was very vivid in her mind. As far as Grandpa’s ability to cook.

Lisa:Earlier you were telling us a story of what the earthquake in 1923 – can you tell us what happened then?

Hanna:I don’t know too much, except my mother’s ire. And so to this day, I have no idea who my relatives are on my dad’s side. I did go to Japan in 1993, and for the first time met some of the other relatives. Now I had meet, met them earlier, because when they were, like my cousin, second cousin, I guess… I don’t know, is he a first cousin? No, I guess he’s my first cousin, because (mumbling). Anyway, his mother’s father was my mother’s sib. And he was assigned here, and I guess he stayed here about eight or nine years, on the east coast, working for Mitsubishi. So we visited a few times, and then his parents came to visit us. So prior to, it must’ve been in late ‘70s or middle ‘80s, I guess, that we had met them once or twice.

And to this day, we’re, we’re still in touch, but it’s very hard. His mother does not speak English at all, and with my limited Japanese, when we visited them in ’93, they were commenting on the fact that my Japanese is from my mother’s era. Okay?

Lisa:Oh, interesting.

Hanna:Which means that the nuances and all the modern versions now, they don’t speak nearly as politely, because lot of the, whether it’s, I don’t know whether it’s the prefixes or suffixes that are now been shoved, and made much brief. So when you say brief in Japanese, it becomes more impolite, I guess.

But one of the things that I really learned, I have to tell you this. About three years ago we had a Japanese schoolteacher on one of those teacher exchange programs.

So we had her live with us for about three weeks. And boy, was it an eye opening session for me. Because she was anxious to learn English and our ways, and I tell you, it was so funny. She was so happy to stay with us, because I guess the Japanese breakfast consists of rice, and maybe soup and pickled items of fish, and this and that. I mean, it’s a big breakfast. Here, you got coffee and doughnuts. When she stayed several weeks down southern Illinois someplace, in one of those rural communities, she said she starved! Well they don’t like sweets for breakfast for one thing. Sweet roll, coffee, what kind of a breakfast is that? You know. And then one house, she said, the little girl said, “We’ve got cereal.” And there’s about twelve boxes of cereal lined up in the pantry. And to have something sweet and milk and cereal, she said she starved. And this one teacher had three kids. So she’s so busy hustle, and bustle, and give them their lunch, and get these kids packed up, for them, so what do they do? They stop by a Dunkin’ Donuts and get coffee and doughnuts and that’s the breakfast. And as far as she’s concerned, that’s hardly a breakfast. As far as she’s concerned, she starved ‘til lunchtime. It’s, it’s, you know, that was… So of course we are able to give her more or less what her taste buds demanded.

But the other opening eye for me was, we were talking, I was talking about my grandchildren, and the fact that they are ainoko. See, I try to use Japanese, but I didn’t get too far, because – I’ve forgotten so much. But I happened to mention that, and she tur-, her face turned color. And I said, so immediately I said, “Why, what’s wrong?” She says, “Oh my, we never use that word anymore. It’s a very derogatory expression.” Now that’s a word I learned from my mother. “Ainoko” means, “ai” is love, “noko” means child, okay? That’s a love child. Which means you’re a bastard in their mind. So they never use that. They call them “happa” now, or something like that, which is for “half.” So instead of saying “love child,” which is supposed to be very derogatory, you never referred. And then, it’s just like us here. There’s so many so-called “politically incorrect” words. If you’re blind, you’re blind, and in Japanese it’s “mecura.” They don’t use that term. They have another, which translates into us saying “visually impaired.” Instead of saying a “blind person,” he’s a “visually-impaired,” or something-handicapped, or… You don’t call him a cripple, it’s another word that’s they’re “physically, what, handicapped” or whatever. But the same thing applies in Japan. So all these words that we knew and learned from our parents are now politically incorrect, and you do not address it as such. So that was an eye-opening thing for me to learn. Besides not being able to understand a word the Japanese company people are using. I can’t understand a word they’re saying. Is that strange or not?

And yet when we were in Japan and conversing with our relatives, we were able to communicate fairly, because I’m using old, old terms, and they would say how different it is to hear this type of conversation. Because everything is very abrupt now, and brief, and it’s cut short. You don’t bother with this extra polite [drops something on floor and disappears of camera reaching for it] way of, you know, using it. (Muttering). [Reappears, trying to straighten papers].

Lisa:Have your children learned Japanese?

Hanna:Unfortunately not. That’s where we made our mistake. Although the last, when my granddaughter here was going to elementary school…

It’s finally now becoming part of their studies, to talk about the relocation. I think up until about, I’d say maybe ten years or so, it was so suppressed, nobody knew about evacuation, the majority, I would say. It was certainly not part of history, and it was not, so very few knew. But, gradually, I’m glad to see that it’s becoming part of, of history, because even at high school, she had asked me to come and present a little bit about what life was like in the camp and et cetera. And my son recently, he’s 55, but his kids, and he lives in Fort Collins, Colorado, and his kids, when I talk to, she’s, I guess she’s a junior in high school now. But she said, “Oh we’re learning about your internment and blah, blah.” So it’s finally getting out so that’s it’s become part of. Which I’m sort of glad to hear, but it takes what? Twenty-five, fifty years, before the whole truth comes out, I guess, they… For whatever reason it was suppressed. It’s just like, you know, the G. I.s, the 442? The hundredth battalion? They were the first to reach that Dacca camp, but that was suppressed because they were told not to suppress, that the U.S. army would get credit, going in the following… So there’s little subtle little areas like that where you still can’t get over the fact that despite all this civil rights, and this and that, there’s still little, subtle, little underlying meaning that the government still isn’t exactly ready to totally accept us on an equal basis, I think. Not that I have any strong feelings about it, but it’s just that little areas like this, I keep wondering why is it? So one can’t help but become a little bit cynical about accepting everything the government says or does or, or tells you. There’s a little bit, a little something there that’s not always, as far as I’m concerned. Not that, not that I good be that terribly, unless it’s my heritage, of being humble. I can’t understand these protests, whether it’s regarding certain issues, whether… I don’t know whether to admire them or, or what. I mean, like these anti-abortion versus the Planned-Parenthood group or… They get so strong about it. As I said, personally, I, I just, like I say, it might be because of my Japanese feeling of always being on the humble side, and not really get involved in the confrontational issues. Might be a coward way, you back off…[laughs].

Lisa:So when you went to your daughter’s high school, what did you tell them? Do you remember? What kinds of things (unintelligible).

Hanna:Umm. Uh, briefly about the… You see, personally we were not involved economically as much as it hurt our parents. I do know my parents’ viewpoint was, they were extremely thankful that, they felt the US government was being extremely benevolent and generous, in the fact they did not separate the aliens – meaning our parents, who were not able to become citizens – versus us, who are full-fledged citizens, born and raised, that they did not just pick the parents off and left us to thrive by ourselves, that they kept us intact as a family. And they felt that was a very generous and benevolent way, you know, that the government handled that. As harsh as it was, within the month or so defined to, to, you know, get rid of your belongings and just take what you can, they didn’t feel that the financial loss was any… It was nothing compared to keeping the family intact, which was their main concern.

Because as far as our place, the restaurant, a Filipino man was supposed to pay for, to pay the bank and gave us a promissory note. Needless to say, he never paid one cent, and the bank never. I mean, the bank didn’t go out of their way to try to force them to pay either. So, the fault lies with the two parties there. But that’s nothing compared to many of the others, whose financial loss was really great.

I keep wondering what happened to all the pets, you know, I just keep wondering what happened to the pets. Because some major furniture was stored, and it was shipped to us, but… All the other little things – but I know right after the war, my mother had some Japanese military marches, and records of it. Like the victory song, that’s basically Japanese, you know? Marching… let me tell you, you’re trying to break your goddamn records, do you think you could do it? You’re stomping on it, to try to break it into little pieces, so we could take it to the church and use their furnace to burn it. And she had pictures of, maybe, some of her relatives, who were in uniforms. A fear that was there, because they’re aliens, so at the time they had no idea that they would not be picked up as being aliens. Because, after all, they’re told to register as an alien, and blah, blah, blah. So during that, the few months right after December 7th, it was kind of a period for our parents to destroy whatever they thought connected them with Japan. So they wanted to get rid of all these so-called records of Japanese songs, or anything, especially if it pertained to, say, the military band records. I remember, but I can’t remember why…I remember stomping and wondering, “We drop it and the things breaks, how come I can’t, it doesn’t break when you’re…” it, it’s really funny feeling to… I used to say, “Well why do we have to do this, Mom?” And she said, “Well, I just don’t want to take the chance of becoming accused of, you know, being this or that.”

So, when I say, it was more our parents’ not knowing the unknown, because they, of course, compared themselves with the Jews in Germany. So they kind of felt similar situation might arise with them. So they wanted to avoid any… And we all had, oh, so many Japanese items that we, all we did was just discard them. You know, when you think of it, can you imagine all the, I mean, because our parents used to follow the traditional… Now March 3 was the Girls’ Festival day. You’d have all these little dolls that they’d display. And May 5th, I think, was the Boys’ Festival. And I understand you don’t have that anymore, that it’s all considered one day, as Children’s Day, or something like that. That they don’t, you know, go through that elaborate… But our parents’ era, they did follow some of those traditions. So all those fancy little dolls and things were just…

Mary:Do you think their underlying fear was that they would be separated from their children?

Hanna:Yeah, right. Citizens versus aliens.

Mary:Uh huh.

Hanna:They didn’t know what the heck was going to happen to the kids. Most of us were, you know, very few of us were twenty-one or over. Many of us, I think, were teenagers and younger. California had much more adult, older citizens.

But up in Tacoma, there were not that, that many. Maybe in the valley there might have been more, but, uh, as far as Tacoma itself, there were just, actually a handful that were fully young adults. But even then, they were what, in their twenties? [siren begins in background] It’s not like they were matured, you know, adults. But… what were you going to say?

Lisa:I’m sorry, just, what was the age difference between you and your brother?

Hanna:Six years.

Lisa:Six years. So what year were you born?

Hanna:In ’21.

Lisa:1921. Okay.

Hanna:And then he was born in ’27. But he passed away a couple years ago. So now I wish my mother had more sibs, like he did [points off camera]. He’s got about seven or eight sibs.

Lisa/Mary:Wow.

Hanna:It’s kinda nice. After you become adults, there’s, you know, you kind of feel like an orphan, you know? There’s nobody as far as…

Mary:I wanted to ask you about something you talked about earlier. You arrived in Chicago when the war was still going on, so that must have been a particularly differe-, difficult time. But can you think of how Japanese-Americans were treated in Tacoma versus how Japanese-Americans were treated in Chicago? Did you feel any difference? Or was it…

Hanna:Are you talking about before the war?

Mary:Well, you were there for the war.

Hanna:Or, see, I don’t know, because I won’t know after the war except for brief visits, but before the war, it was always a very prejudiced city. Like I say, I always considered myself a second-class citizen. Number one, you could never get into the unions, they would never, you know… Even when we came here, when George first went to school, I forgot, what the heck was that George, [begins looking off camera] that you took up, was that plumbing, or what the, air conditioning? I think it was air conditioning. And I think it was DeVry, I think. Was there less than a week, or ten days? You were told, drop it, because they would never, [looks back forward] even in Chicago, they said they would – drop it, because you would never, even if you got, uh finish this course, you would never find employment, that the union would not accept you. Now by the same token, it was not until, even the ‘60s, we could not buy in this north-side area, even though we [had] been here… I came here in ’44. Initially, I came here ’43, okay, and then I got married and came back in ’44. But even up until the ‘60s, we were not allowed to buy any property in certain areas.

Mary:How, how did that, was that handled? I mean, how was it made clear that you couldn’t buy in certain areas?

Hanna:Well, when we had a restaurant in, not too far from here, okay? And at the time it was called the View in a Park Hotel. We got an application from AAA organization. They turned us down because we were of the Mongolian race. To this day, he [points off camera] would have nothing to do with the – because they keep sending you all these applications to join this auto club, and blah, blah, blah. But I distinctly remember when we did apply, and this was back in ’46 or ’47, and they said, “Sorry, we’re not accepting anybody...” And they didn’t call us “Oriental,” “Asian,” nothing, they just said, “We do not accept anyone from the Mongolian race.” And it still, it still harps on his mind, and he wants no part of the AAA.

Though we’ve come a long ways, but it’s just like the Blacks and the Whites, it’s just, I think it’s just human nature for people to develop a certain amount of superiority if you’re of white Caucasians. I just feel that it’s just human nature. Even among our own race there are prejudices. In Japan, too. Of course, they don’t call that now, but they used to, similar to the Indians’ caste system, there were people who were lower, I don’t know what, to this day I still don’t understand exactly, but there used to be a class distinction that they called etas, at that time.

And these people only did dirty work, like leatherwork, or gar-, or trash, I mean, undesirable type of… And I thought it was quite similar to the type of Indian caste system. So I guess every, every nation or culture seem to have their own degree and levels of… And it’s not just, just money, either. It has nothing to do with that. But it’s, you’re livi-, born into this particular family or-, you’re, you’re, you know, although I guess India is trying, but I don’t think they’ve gotten very far, have they? But like I say, I think it’s part of human nature, just feeling a superiority over a certain group, I guess, I don’t know.

But our kids sure don’t know it, this, this generation that are growing up now, it’s just wonderful. It’s so multi-ethnic a society, that they think nothing of it. The kids in, my grandchildren in Colorado say, “What are we?” You know. They want to know whether – whereas the one here is so proud to be Japanese-y. She has a, her husband, my daughter’s husband is, he’s Heinz 57, I mean, there’s English, German, Scotch, I mean it’s just a mess. And, but my daug-, my grandchild, this one, here, she’d rather be Japanese. But she’s proud of it. And the one in Colorado has doubts. Now they’re in a very small community, though, Fort Collins. So they’re not sure what they are, or who they are. They have a Caucasian mother. So it’s funny, it’s strange how…but they’re assimilated. There’s no division. There’s no segregation like we grew up with. So…world getting smaller – smaller and smaller. You getting so many intermarriages, but that’s so true. That’s why I’m so afraid so many of the Japanese traditions are going to be lost, so that’s it’s kind of nice to see this kind of program being developed, that it will become part of history.

Lisa:What would, as you think about your childhood, growing up, especially in Tacoma, what do you think you want your children and grandchildren to remember most?

Hanna:About my childhood? Some of the handicaps that we had. I still recall to this day when my son was about five years old, and he used to visit his grandparents in Tacoma, Washington, and where they lived was near Fort – Defiance Park. So there were no, at that time, now we’re talking in mid-fifties, I don’t think there was any Asian living around where my grandparents were living at that time, and so the playmates he would have…and he ca-, I remember him once saying, “How come I always have to be the Jap soldier?” [laughs] At that time, he never considered, you know, their generation, we were so aware of being different, but my son’s generation, there’s no such thing. They’re just assimilated. And it never occurred to them that their race was different.

Mary:So who was he visiting in Tacoma?

Hanna:My, my parents.

Mary:So they moved back to Tacoma?

Hanna:Yeah, [loud male voice begins talking in background] they were here and then in, let’s see, they came here in ’44 and in ’53, they went back to Tacoma. And they lived there for about twelve or thirteen years. And then I decided, they’re getting too old to be so far away, in case something happens, so… Because at that time my brother lived in New Rochelle, New York, see. And with me here, and there, and when I think of it now, well shoot, they were only 65 and 70, and I’m counting them, they’re too God darn old to be living by themselves.

And here I am, you know, at this age, and I though, shoot, they could have stayed there a few more years. They were so healthy. Dad was 87 and Mom was 92 when they passed away. And Mom never spent a day in the hospital except when she gave birth. So, I don’t know what made them so darn healthy. Dad never took, never caught cold. I, I just don’t understand it, unless… We walked a heck of a lot though, I don’t know whether that has something to do with it, or what, as did we when we, in our childhood, we sure walked a lot, and never thought anything about it.

Lisa:Why did they go back to Tacoma?

Hanna:Mom always wanted to go back. She didn’t like this apartment living, here, before we bought our house. So they went back, and she – I’m glad they went back, because she was – she was unlike other Japanese ladies, she was not a very, very aggressive, strong-minded person. Can you imagine, sixty-some-odd year old and getting speed tickets? Oh my god, my mother was a… She drove any place, every place, and was a fast driver. And as righteous and Christian-like she was in her, you know, many of our, she had a nasty habit of being very impatient, so… Here, here it is, a sixty-some-odd year old woman, seventy years old, and getting drivers…

Lisa:Did they, uh, have a business when they moved back?

Hanna:No, Dad went to work, he couldn’t find work in Tacoma, so he worked in, in Seattle, some country club, so he would have room and board, and Monday through Friday he would work. See?

Lisa/Mary:Oh.

Hanna:And then he’d come home on weekends.

Mary:He worked as a cook?

Hanna:Yeah. As I said, he was a terrific cook. To this day, George and I can’t figure out – he used to make the best Chef’s Salad. We’ve tried imitating it every which way, never could come up with whatever it is. But he could whip up anything and everything. But don’t forget, he’s been at it for, since his, when he first came to the States, here, from a teenager on, that’s all he did. So consequently… He never had recipes, it was all in his head. And what he could come up with is, it was just a, in fact, George used to think a lot more about him than his own dad. His dad was a typical Japanese male. Kids never talked when they ate. He was just very, very… And then later years, he mellowed, because he found it was a very lonely life, there. He’s distanced himself so much from the kids, they never developed a close relationship. And it was different with, you know, with our family. So consequently, he knew the difference there, and I would never tolerate his father. I used to wonder when I’d visit them, dinnertime is supposed to be a happy social time. This household was just like a morgue. Nobody, you know, they waited ‘til he spoke, and I thought, “Ugh, how strange.” But as he got older, he started to develop a little bit more mellow personality, and, you know, be in the (unintelligible). Because I guess he found it was pretty God darn lonely.

Yeah, I guess, I used to think our parents knew an awful lot in their lifetime, but I thought, well, we didn’t do so bad either, when we talk about the twenties and the thirties, and life as it is now. There’s quite a vast difference. A lot of pros and cons, but sadly, too many of my peers are, population is declining, rapidly, unfortunately.

But I was surprised to note yesterday, most of us here were all couples here. Except maybe Chizu, you know. But the rest of us are – but then most of them, I think, are younger than us. I think George and I are about the oldest, I think. Most of them, I think, are anywhere from five to ten years younger, I believe. Except Chizu. I think Chizu and I are about the same. But the rest anyway – you know, when you were, when you’re younger, even two years made a vast difference. You never associated with anyone two years older or younger. There was entirely different generation. But as you get older, you find out, as we recently found out, at least I did last summer, because these, my mother’s closest friend’s daughter… I used to think she was a great deal older, and then I, I think I told you – last year, when we were together and we were talking, he was saying he was, he turned 91. And I thought, “gee, 91. God, I used to think he was an old man. And 91?” I said, “God darn, he’s only about five years older than my own husband. So there can’t be that much difference. But now we can socialize and enjoy each other’s company, because we had so many, I mean, so many memories of familiar scenes, and you know, friends, mutual friends, and our church-related activities, and you know, about Tacoma and so forth. And that we really enjoyed our, because they live in Spokane, but they come here annually to visit their daughter who lives in Skokie or, I think it was Skokie, or Evanston, something like that. Anyway, it’s one of the ‘burbs here. So we’ve gotten sort of reacquainted, and it’s kind of nice to… It’s also, as I said, very sad to hear of so many of us disappearing, and going. But when you think of it, if we live to be as old as we are, we’ve had a nice, long life. We’ve, I mean, as life would have it. You’ve had children, you have grandchildren, you were able to experience all that. So, you know, I guess our life pursuit is sort of following the general… So if you’re up to eighties, I guess you consider yourself pretty lucky.

Mary:Well we’re so glad that you can share these stories with us.

Hanna:So… Well gee, this is delightful. I enjoy talking [laughs.

Lisa:Thank you.

Hanna:Well, thank you for it. And I hope that you will be able to succeed in…and it’s going to be a very, very well thought-out project. I thank you very much for your, both your interests. It’s wonderful to have people like you follow it up. ‘Cause that means, I know like I said, Seattle group, I think, there is a group called Densho?

Lisa:Mm-hmm.

Mary:Yeah.

Hanna:That is, I thought, was quite interesting. So I know I just recently sent them a very small check, but I, I really feel encouraged to hear these various groups, because I’m so afraid it’s going to be totally waylaid here. Thank you very…