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helped and welcomed back
the Japanese Americans
during and after
World War II
Story 1: Preparing for Evacuation by Shelley Browne
The news of Pearl Harbor spread through our community like wildfire on that crisp December day. It was Sunday, and my family and I were in the kitchen listening to the radio before we set off for church. The announcer's bulletin that the Imperial Army of Japan had just bombed Pearl Harbor brought the busy commotion of our kitchen to a sudden halt as we reluctantly digested the magnitude of this unbelievable news. Fear chilled my very bones, and the pale winter sun did little to warm my soul on that unforgettable seventh day of December.
After church my family, along with my aunts, uncles, and grandparents, met at our home to talk about what might be our fate as Americans of Japanese ancestry. It was decided that anything relating to our Japanese culture had to be destroyed that evening. We gathered up all photos and postcards from Japan that our relatives had sent us, musical records, my brothers Kendo fencing outfit, Japanese dolls, and other Japanese artifacts and tossed them into our septic tank sewer or burned them. My grandmother sat silently, looking on as memories of her childhood went up in smoke.
The next evening four FBI agents came to our house. One stood watch at the front door, one stood watch at the back door. We were ordered to stay in the living room while the other two agents ransacked our home for several hours looking for any evidence that associated my father with Japan. They found nothing, but they arrested my father just as they had arrested other prominent members of our community. The agents would not tell us where they were taking my father, nor when he would return. They seemed emotionally detached from the fact that they were tearing our family apart. Father spoke to mother about keeping the family together through this, "Bring your parents here to live until I am home again. I will write to you as soon as I can"
Later we learned that my father was taken to the Watsonville jail and then transferred somewhere. He was not allowed to come home for a change of clothes or a toothbrush. It wasn't until we got his letter from Bismark, North Dakota, that we knew he was incarcerated in a prisoner of war camp. We were all heartsick with worry as we knew he must be feeling the same about us.
Following my father's advice, our family stayed together, pooling our resources in order to survive. In April, Exclusion Order #16 was issued. The weeks to follow were like a whirlwind. Things were happening so fast. Our bank accounts were frozen, and the need for money to buy necessities became a priority. People came to our home offering next to nothing for our possessions, knowing that we needed to sell things in order to buy groceries, clothing , and other basic supplies. My mother had to sell our new truck for $60.00! Some dishes and furniture were sold for pennies on the dollar. My mother gave me $90.00 to pay our bill at the Canton Market. I handed Mr.Gim Lew, the owner of the market, the $90.00 to clear our debt. He told me to take the money back to my mother because we would need it wherever we were going. He said that our bill was free and clear. We'll never forget his kindness!
We were fortunate enough that the bank found a renter for our home for $16.00 a month. Some families that had homes were forced to board them up and hope that things would be in order upon their return. A kind and sympathetic neighbor stored some items for us, such as my mother's sewing machine and other small electrical appliances. We stored our refrigerator, piano, washing machine, bedroom set and other large items at a warehouse. Unable to obtain insurance for these things, we had to just trust that they would be safe. Another neighbor was kind enough to take care of our family dog, sunny. It just broke our hearts to leave him. We were very fortunate to have good, caring friends.
Packing for our fate was nearly impossible. It was also an incredibly numbing process. As I went through my things, I began to cry. Why was this happening to us? How do you pack for a place unknown? It all seemed overwhelming. I remember taking one long, last look at my room, trying to burn its warm comfort into my memory. When things got difficult in times ahead, I would close my eyes and put myself back in the quiet safety of my bedroom.
As we did not know what kind of weather we would be facing, we were forced to pack warm coats, heavy socks and substantial shoes alongside shorts, lightweight tops and sandals. Each of us was also responsible for carrying our own bedding, one fork, one plate, one bowl, and a cup. We could only bring one suitcase each, and I must have packed and repacked mine about fifty times. Each of my possessions was as important as the next, and to pick and chose what meant more to me was very difficult. I finally decided to take one figurine that my grandmother had given me on my 13th birthday, my school yearbook, some photographs of family and friends, a small dictionary, a book of poems, my journal, and sanitary napkins.
My mother was so strong throughout these times. Looking back, I can barely fathom how she managed to keep our family together without father. Not once since my father was taken away did I see her cry. She would tackle task after task and repeat, "Shikataganai" (It can't be helped), and "Gaman" ( We must persevere and bear it). I realize now that it was her incredible strength that gave me the courage to face each day.
Getting ready for a full dress parade is not the most exciting part of military service, but this parade was going to be special. All personnel of the 100th/442nd Regimental Combat Team were to assemble. The war against Nazi Germany was finally over in May of 1945, and this special moment was a time of reflection for Staff Sergeant Henry Y. Arao.
For now, Arao had to ready himself for the ceremonial parade that acknowledged his heroic actions. For a spontaneous act of bravery on April 5, 1945, Arao was awarded the U. S. Army's Distinguished Service Cross. "It was quite an honor standing there in front of the men," reflected Arao, with tears swelling in his eyes.
The Japanese attack on Sunday, December 7, 1941 changed many lives. Arao, 21, volunteered on December 11, 1941 at the local draft board in Santa Cruz, California.
Sixteen weeks of basic training were completed at Camp Roberts, near Paso Robles. Arao did so well he was to join an anti-tank unit as part of the cadre (instructional team). Instead, he was separated and segregated. He ended up doing "KP" (kitchen police) work.
The 700 Nisei soldiers at Camp Roberts were ordered to board a special train, whose destination was Camp Robinson, Arkansas. Arao's group ended up at Fort Riley, Kansas. The Nisei soldiers were reduced to performing subservient roles for white officers, or digging ditches and latrines.
"They didn't trust us," Arao stated with disgust.
When the call wen t out for the formation of an all-Nisei unit, the 442nd RCT, Arao volunteered. After successfully completing basic training again, he was one of 2,000 replacements, ready to join the fighting as part of the 100th Battalion's Company A in the European theater of operations.
From Fort Dix, New Jersey in June of 1944, the group sailed across the Atlantic to Algiers. Eventually they were ordered to liberate the town of Bruyeres, France.
The fighting in the Vosges Forest was so severe, Arao observed stating, "We were being slaughtered." They had been ordered by Major General John E. Dalhquist to rescue his Texas "Lost Battalion." The 1st Battalion of the 141 Regiment of the 36th Division had been cut off for seven days by the Germans. Arao told his buddies, "I guess we're not going home (alive)." The rescue of the Texans cost the 100th/442nd RCT 184 killed and over 600 wounded. Arao was one of the few who could still muster for formation.
Later, during an exceptionally dark night Arao's squad was ordered to locate the enemy position. The squad came face-to-face with a German Panzer tank. The tank opened fire, but it was firing wildly. Arao told his men to hit the dirt and to crawl to back to their lines. Arao called for an artillery strike after giving the 522nd Field Artillery the proper coordinates.
While in France, Arao was wounded in the neck and was taken to the field hospital. The doctor sewed up the wound without giving Arao a shot for the pain. The bleeding stopped so Arao was sent back into combat. He had been gone for about an hour. Yes, he earned the Purple Heart. The shrapnel is permanently lodged in his neck, a twisted medal of honor.
Arao's most frightening moment came when a German mortar shell landed five feet from him, and it didn't explode! "I guess it wasn't my time to go," recalls a fatalistic Arao.
Then the 100th/442nd RCT was returned to Italy. For over five months our army divisions could not break through the Gothic Line. In the Apennine Mountains the German SS troops were dug in with rock and concrete bunkers. The U. S. Navy bombarded the area and the U. S. Army Air Corps' P-51 pounded the area. The Germans, undaunted, held the high ground.
When the offensive order came, the officers of the 100th/442nd RCT decided that the I, L, and M Companies of the 3rd Battalion would climb up quietly the ridge of Mount Folgorita in total darkness! A Nisei solider fell to this death off the steep cliff without uttering a sound. That brave soldier didn't want to give away the element of surprise. Watsonville's volunteer from Poston Camp II, Pfc Shig T. Kizuka of "Love" Company, was among the very first up that mountain. They had caught the Germans completely by surprise and took possession of the mountain! This battle took less than 33 minutes!
Meanwhile, men of the 100th Battalion on April 5, 1945, whose objective was to secure neighboring Mount Cerreta, were pinned down by deadly machine fire. Someone tipped a land mine, and during the scramble several more land mines were set off, causing heavy casualties and bringing down hand grenades and machine gun fire on A Company. The pincer drive had faltered. When the squad leader was badly wounded by a grenade burst, Pfc Arao tended to the wound and reorganized the small squad. Most of them were youngsters. At 25 he was the "old man" of the squad. He took charge.
"I told the men to stay low. They really weren't combat ready. I crawled around to the left. (I) got behind the Germans." Arao took out the pin of his hand grenade, released the handle, counted off two seconds, and then threw the grenade into the bunker. With his "Tommy" (Thompson submachine gun), he finished off the first machine gun nest of six Germans. Realizing that there was another machine gun nest raining fire down on his men, he quickly moved into position without any regard for his own safety and eliminated that machine gun nest using only his "Tommy." Arao had crawled up and through a heavily land mined field! His heroic actions had spearheaded the attack, and the 100th Battalion had broken through.
In less than 32 minutes of actual combat the Nisei soldiers were able to break through the Gothic Line that had held out for nearly half a year.
Germany surrendered a month later on May 7, 1945.
Returning home via New York harbor, Arao remembered, "I saw the Statue of Liberty when I left and I saw the Statue of Liberty on my return. Tears came to my eyes when I saw her. I was lucky enough to come home alive."
Arao was asked if it was worth the effort. "Yeah, it was worth it. We did what we had to do. We had to prove that we belonged in this country. There's nothing as good as the United States."
Mas Hashimoto
578 Vivienne Drive Watsonville, CA. 95076 (831) 722-6859
e-mail: hashi79@earthlink.net
Individuals mentioned as supportive to the Japanese American Community before, during, and following the internment:
|
|
| Louis Lopes, Pajaro Valley Bank |
| Edward Hall |
| Lucille Gluhan Brown |
| Eileen Dyche Martin |
| Mormon Church in general |
| John McCarthy |
| Dr. Oscar Marshall |
| Opal Marshall |
| Police Chief Matt Graves |
| George Cowles |
| Henry Martin |
| Rev. Henry B. Adams |
| Rev. Alfred Broccardo, S.C. |
| Mert M. Lampson |
| Bert E. Phillips |
| Rev. William G. Batt |
| Allan W. Geddes |
| Frank McCray |
| A. C. Sessions |
| Harold D. Byram |
| D. Wayne Hildie |
| P. C. White |
| E. L. Whisler |
| Rev. Mack McCray, Jr (First Baptists Church, 1943) |
Memories of Poston by Lora Schraft
There is no escaping the sand, this fine dust-like sand that makes you feel as if you are a piece of wood and the wind that carries it, a carpenter. Every time it decides to exhale its mighty breath, it beats you down, like sandpaper scraping your skin, as if it has some intended purpose. It slowly discards pieces of you, whisking you off, forming you into some stoic statue. Its dust fills your lungs like smoke from a cigarette, making it difficult to breathe. And, it would find its way into your eyes, those hard specks that were once rocks thousands of years ago, now wedged between your eye and eyelid. Striking down on your face, it leaves you with a stinging sensation, as if somehow it magically turned into a bee. Except this is no fairy tale. This is what life is like in the Poston internment camp.
We are trapped in a wireless cage. The desert is our only boundary. It is what separates us from the world we left behind. There is no evading it. It has no guns, only its intense heat, that kills just the same. As I stand and look out around me I know that my freedom is now lost, taken with my rights, and stored away in a box somewhere with everything else I once owned. I wonder what this place is protecting, us from the world or the world from us? Are we the enemy? We are imprisoned, but I don't know what crime we have committed.
I never realized how much I loved privacy until now, because now I have none. I am an open book for all to read and look upon. Single family homes now become extended family barracks, and the walls that were once a part of them turn to sheets. Individual bathrooms turn to community latrines, and showers to open rooms. Oh, the stench! It permeates the air from the latrines, burning my nose as I inhale. Some even go to the toilets in other blocks, just to escape it. Some ladies are bringing cover-ups to put around them for a little privacy. I wish it were that simple to take a shower. Some people wait until dinner to take one because they are embarrassed; they're not used to showering in the open without partitions. Others shower with their bloomers on. We are all naked now, not only in appearance, but in our hearts as well. We have been stripped of all that was once ours, left with nothing but memories of what once was.
Our young Nisei men are reclassified from 1-A, eligible for military service, to 4-C, ineligible as "enemy aliens." As the war progresses they are reclassified back to 1-A. Courageous Nisei men volunteer or are drafted into service from behind barbed wire. Even at the front lines we must be separated. How are we any different from before? We are not aliens to this land we have spent our lifetimes in, nor are we enemies when we stand up to defend the nation within which we live. I call this being an American!
Fear. What does it mean? Does it mean distrust, suspicion, wonder, fright? I ask America, why are you afraid of me? Why do you fear me? Is it because I am a little different, a little smaller, a little taller, a different color perhaps? Have a different nose, different eyes, different hair? Why do you hate me so? Are we not the same, you and I? With our two eyes, a nose and mouth. Hair to cover our head and a body to stand, with a name being the only thing that separates you and I? Why do you look at me so, with strange eyes? Do you not realize it's me? I am your brother, your sister, your friend. I was born here. I am an American.
I wake up each morning, and each morning I am here. Before I put on my shoes I check for black widow spiders and scorpions that have found their way inside them during the night as they live among us as much as we live among them.
I do wish the heat would dissipate. The temperature is unbearable, reaching to over 115-120 degrees. Sometimes my nose bleeds as if the heat somehow has given me a swift punch in the nose. Others are not so lucky. They faint from exhaustion. At night we soak our mattresses with water which helps to cut the heat a bit. As a result, we jokingly rename the camp, "Roastin' Poston." The winter months are not much better, falling to 30 degrees at night. You can bring a bucket of water outside, and it will freeze right there. And, there are icicles that hang from the bathroom outside. I think I would rather greet the spiders than the arctic toilet seats. The barracks don't help much with the cracks between the boards the size of the Grand Canyon. My mother piles all our clothes on us, in hopes that we will not freeze at night, like the water in the buckets. The weather seems to have a mind of its own. Sometimes you can't see a thing across the barracks. It is as if someone from above has reached down and placed a blindfold over your eyes. You can see them coming, these sandstorms. They blow you over. We run to shelter, and shut the windows as quickly as we can, but the sand seeps up everywhere, covering everything. And, it seems like it stays like this for a long time.
How can a country that spouts out freedoms and rights as if it has such an abundance of them in reality have so few? Where did they go, I wonder. Where is my liberty? Where is my justice? Maybe, they were blown away with the wind, like everything else.
Re-settlement, Coming Home: Mello Center Program
Sandy: The Santa Cruz
County Board of Supervisors, without a dissenting vote, on April
23, 1943, passed a resolution against the release of Japanese
Americans from the internment camp. They even deplored the fact
that Japanese Americans were fighting in the US Army. They wanted
the Nisei soldiers excluded from military service.
(Most recently, thanks to the efforts of Supervisor Tony Campos,
the Santa Cruz County Board of Supervisors, on February 26, 2002,
voted unanimously to rescind that 1943 resolution. We are grateful
to the Board of Supervisors, many of whom who are here today.)
The Pajaro Valley Defense Council had adopted a resolution, 15
to 3, on February 23, 1943, which opposed the return of the internees.
Three members of the Defense Council who voted against the resolution
were attorney John L. McCarthy, attorney Phil Boyle,
and the Rev. Allan Geddes of the All Saints Episcopal
Church.
John McCarthy, an advocate of civil rights, has always
been held in high regards by the Japanese American community
because he protected their property rights and helped some families
regain financial stability after the war.
The US Supreme court ruled on December 18, 1944, in the Mitsue
Endo case, that the government could not detain loyal citizens.
After three years of confinement the internees were be released
from Poston, beginning in July, 1945.
But, the conditions for resettlement were not favorable. Two-thirds
of Watsonville's Japanese American community did not return to
the area because they feared the intense racial discrimination
in California. Few employers were hiring Japanese and Japanese
Americans. Many Nisei students resettled in the East or Midwest
states where they could complete their education and pursue careers
that normally were closed to them in California.
#1
Victor:
A letter, submitted to the Watsonville Register-Pajaronian
by a leading citizen of the community, offered these anti-Japanese
suggestions:
"Congress should adopt a resolution so to amend the Constitution
of the United States so that:
1. At the end of this war, we shall be in a position lawfully
to return to Japan all Japanese, alien and American born;
2. That no person of Japanese ancestry shall ever be or become
a citizen of the United States; and
3. That members of that race be forever excluded from anything
in the nature of permanent residence here.
Who should object to such a program but those of the Japanese
race?
It is the time to rid ourselves of these people if we wait until
the war's end to speak our piece, it will be too late."
We were
aware of the strong feelings expressed by both sides for some
of us subscribed to the Pajaronian. It was mailed
to our camp address.
We, who are making plans to return home to Watsonville, were
encouraged by those who vehemently opposed the proposed resolution.
We are particularly grateful to Reverend Mack McCray, Jr.
of the First Baptist Church of Watsonville who wrote his reply
on March 3, 1943:
"Who should object to such a program but those of the
Japanese race?" I refuse to keep silent when I am classed
with those holding such views. I, for one, object, and I am definitely
not of the Japanese race!
"Your denunciation of the Japanese as a race reads like
Hitler's denunciation of the Jews as a whole. The kind of thing
that happened in 1935 in Germany when the Jews were deprived
of their citizenship by decree, could happen in the United States,
as you suggest concerning the Japanese, but it could not happen
without changing or violating our established constitutional
rights. We would then be no better off than the nations now at
war with us .
"Your opinion that we are at war with the Japanese as a
race certainly is not shared by the majority of the Christian
people. Many of us have many Japanese friends whom we believe
to be loyal American citizens, and with whom we have had precious
friendly and Christian fellowship. Still, if we knew of only
one such, we would be morally obligated to stand up for that
one."
#2
Debbe Chan:
The following letter, written by members of the Watsonville clergy,
was appreciated by us. It read, in part:
A loyal citizen of the United States is entitled to bear arms
in defense of his country and it has always been America's pride
and boast that neither race nor creed nor color are a bar to
citizenship.
Equality of treatment, fairness in the application of her laws,
is the essence of American Democracy. Suspicion and fear must
never form the basis of an accusation, for this is persecution.
Nor should one person be held guilty of another's crime where
no association can be shown.
We hold, then, that persons of Japanese ancestry, equality with
those of any other, who by birth are citizens of these United
States, are entitled to the opportunity of proving their loyalty,
and having proved it, are entitled to all the privileges of any
other citizen. It is by patience and understanding, not by hatred
and suspicion, that we shall build the security of our nation's
future.
Respectfully yours,
Rev. Henry B. Adams of the Presbyterian Church,
Rev. William G. Batt of St. Patrick's Church, Rev.
Alfred Broccardo, Harold D. Byram of Pajaro, Rev.
Allan D. Geddes of All Saints Episcopal Church, D.
Wayne Hildie, Mert M. Lampson of the Methodist
Church, Frank McCray, Major Bert E. Phillips
of the Salvation Army, Alwyn C. Sessions of the California
Spray Chemical Co., E. L. Whisler of the First Christian
Church, F. C. White, and Rev. Mack McCray,
Jr. of the First Baptist Church of Watsonville.
#3
Debbie Mano:
Others who wrote letters were Angeline Townsend, a local
missionary to the Chinese and Japanese mission churches.
A letter written by US Army Air Corps Captain Mateo Lettunich
of Watsonville, stationed in Europe, appeared in the May 7, 1945,
Pajaronian:
"It is the treatment of these latter Japanese Americans,
who are now beginning to return to the homes where they were
once honored members of our communities, that is the problem
where of I write.
"Five minutes' view of what was once a prosperous and peaceful
village-be it in France or in Germany-should be enough to convince
anyone that the price paid for discrimination and hate against
the guilty is almost unbearably heavy. How much more shameful
it is when the same discrimination and hate is kept alive to
afflict the innocent."
The courage to speak out for civil rights and against racial
intolerance by the clergy and a few community members was remarkable.
#4
Barbara:
Several families returned to Watsonville by August of 1945 for
it was important to enroll our children for the fall semester
of school.
Many families had no homes to return to in Watsonville. Fortunately,
a hostel had been established at the Buddhist Church. The Westview
Japanese Presbyterian Church was also assisting in the resettlement
process.
Some families maintained their homes because of the assistance
given by Edward A. Hall, Louis Lopes, and Al Miguel of
he Pajaro Valley National Bank in regards to property and banking
arrangements.
For some, the old home was vacated promptly by the wartime renter.
For others, it was sometimes a problem to regain occupancy.
A good friend, Pete Musler, provided a small house for
a family with an infant and an ill adult.
As we resettle the support of friends was appreciated. We were
welcomed back by those who have always been our closest friends:
Frank Osmer, H. A. Hyde, Matt Graves, Eileen Dyche Martin,
Lucille Gluhan Brown, Mike Murphy, William Bendell, Bob Cozzens,
the Resetar family, Frank Orr (editor of the Register-Pajaronian),
and the Mormon Church of Santa Cruz. They extended their
support for our return, and we were grateful.
#5
Robb Mayeda:
Many returning internees have been shocked to discover empty
or vandalized warehouses, sheds, and homes where they stored
their life's belongings. Some families have fortunately retained
their homes, farms, and possessions because of the kindness of
caring friends and neighbors.
Stacy Irwin Stout watched over the Nami Hashimoto home
and even sent their dog, Sunny, to the family in Poston.
The Elmer Skillicorns watched over land and property
for friends.
Henry Martin "stored" furniture in his Pajaro
dry bean elevator.
Carl Mehl, Sr. cared for the Buddhist Church property
and made special arrangements for the ashes of the deceased.
Walter Dutro looked after the financial affairs of the
Buddhist Church.
Nick and Rose Kalich took excellent care of household
goods for friends.
Gene Bechis looked after property in respect to financial
and leasing arrangements. The Kalich and Bechis family
members visited the Yagis at Poston. They were having lunch in
the mess hall when a violent dust storm completely covered their
meal with dust.
#6
Shizue Shikuma:
George and Rose Cowles, W. D. Loveless, and Tony Tomasello
were wonderful neighbors to Japanese American farmers. Mr. Cowles
made arrangements to have a neighbor's house rented, made certain
payments were met, and serviced the tractors.
Mr. Loveless leased the Kizuka land for farming, watched
over stored equipment, fixed the well, and at the family's request,
sent packages during the internment.
Rose Cowles advanced money to rent the Redman ranch and
Nisei farmers were able to share crop strawberries.
Tony Tomasello employed Isseis and Niseis to harvest lettuce
and other vegetables. He had taken care of farm property for
some of the Watsonville families during the internment. Mr.
Tomasello also visited families in camp, and helped a couple
of them return from Colorado to Oregon, harvesting potatoes and
sugar beets.
Working hard is not a problem. We have always been able to do
that. It has been difficult to get back into the work force because
only a few employers are willing to hire us.
We appreciate Joe Crosetti, Mr. Franich, the sardine
canneries of Monterey, and others who gave us jobs upon our
return to Watsonville.
#7
Nicole D'Arcy: Our
children were behind in school because the internment camps were
limited in curriculum materials and certificated teachers. Respectfully
regarded Watsonville High School teacher, Mae Lord, delivered
books to the Salinas Assembly Center camp each week and spoke
words of encouragement to our students. When we were sent to
Poston, Arizona, she wrote frequently and continued to send books.
Dorothy Staud Roark also sent letters and books. Ada Horton
Cornell, a teacher at the Carlton School, gave us support.
T. S. MacQuiddy wrote letters of recommendations for college
bound Nisei students. These outstanding educators will always
be remembered.
Shopping in town was difficult. The "NO JAPS" signs
were prominently displayed in grocery stores, barber shops, restaurants,
service stations, and other businesses. However, there were supporters
to help make the transition. Ford's Department Store provided
very liberal arrangements or charging purchases on account and
mailing merchandise before, during, and after "camp."
The Nami Hashimotos told us about the kindness of Canton Market
owner, Gim Lew. Before the evacuation to Salinas Assembly
Center, the Hashimotos went to pay their $90 bill. Gim Lew told
them to keep the money because they would need it, and he cleared
their bill. Mr. Lew was among those who welcomed our return,
and we are grateful.
#8 Marcia: In some way we all seemed to have been touched
by the extraordinary gift of giving by Dr. Oscar and Opal
Marshall. The Marshalls were well respected leaders of our
community. Their son, Mahlon, of the Class of 1942, was
killed in the Philippines during World War II. He had volunteered
to be a paratrooper.
The Marshalls were vehement and outspoken in protesting the evacuation
of the Japanese and Japanese Americans from Watsonville. They
were angered by the propaganda printed by the Hearst papers,
and so incensed by the paper's campaign of racism and phony espionage
findings that they never again subscribed to a Hearst paper.
During the evacuation, they corresponded with several families
who were interned. They sent many "care" packages to
their friends in camp.
Six babies were born during the three months at Salinas Assembly
Center. Dr. Marshall was permitted to take the mothers
to the Monterey County Hospital in Salinas for their babies'
deliveries, and he returned several times to deliver medication
and to make calls.
Many recall that the Marshals were among the first to welcome
back the internees at the Pajaro train station and to help find
employment after the war.
When Opal Marshall became aware that some markets would
not sell food to the resettled Japanese American community members,
she daily brought milk, butter, and other food items to families
residing at the church hostel.
The Marshalls will always be remembered with the highest regards.
#9
Mas:
At
the risk of being called names and having rocks thrown through
their windows, the Marshalls and all those who stood up
in support of our return have received our heartfelt gratitude.
Thank you for being loyal friends and for having the courage
to extend a hand as we rebuilt our lives. Equally important,
thank you for preserving our faith in the Constitution and the
Bill of Rights of this great nation.
Led by Jane Borg of the Pajaro Valley Historical Association,
this has been an incredible journey back--researching and verifying
all those who actively defended and supported our Japanese and
Japanese American community during the most critical period in
our history. To those who were unintentionally omitted in this
program, we sincerely apologize. To those who preferred to remain
anonymous, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
I would like to ask our supporters or a family representative
to please stand and be recognized with appreciation. Please hold
your applause until the end of the acknowledgment.
Read all the names:
Now, I would like to introduce the Executive Director of the National JACL, Mr. John Tateishi.
We will close this program with the JACL Senior Center choir singing God Bless America. They will sing the first stanza, and as the first stanza is repeated, will you all please stand and join us in the singing. The lyrics are found on page ____ of the commemorative book.
For those
wearing the red, white, and blue ribbon with your ticket, please
join us for the reception at the YWCA and PVHA.