Dring, dring, just in the midst of my pistachio ice
cream, the alarm clock set for quarter to six shattered my pleasant
dream. After shutting off the alarm. I once again tried to resume the
consummation of my favorite repast. After hiding awhile under the covers
from the sun, I finally "lost fight" and jumped out of bed. I hurriedly
rushed for the shower room where I met the early-birds of the kitchen
crew. I returned home after a brisk cold shower.
With Mass starting at 6:30 a.m. I scurried down to
Block 25 and as usual was just a trifle late. After a half-hour service,
I returned to Block 29 in time to have breakfast.
Cutting across the pear orchard trying to save time,
always on the lookout for an ambulance which might be heading towards
the administration district, I kept on the alert to hail a vehicle. HMM,
wasn't lucky this morning. Must have lost my "oomph." Gosh, walking
from one end of the camp to the other is sure hard on my $16 monthly pay
check. They say walking is good for the SOUL but not for my SOLE. Since
the Manzanar 8:00 a.m. "air raid whistle" had sounded some five minutes
ago I was greeted with a barrage of "good afternoons" from every corner
of the office.
Getting ready for press day, Saturday, and also
circulation day, the Editor yelled above the din of the office, "Get the
story of the skunk that invaded the hospital!"
In spite of the hustling and the bustling of the
editorial staff, the circulation department managed to complete the
outside mailing list by noon.
I was in the most embarrassing predicament en route
to the "Latrine." Outside the Records Department I came upon two birds
quarreling whom I recognized as my friends. Automatically I reached for
the nearest door latch I...Ooops! A man was shaving...My mistake! Swish,
I made the quickest exit with a tomato-faced complexion.
With only a half-day of work I started my long trudge
home a little after one. Carrying my bumbershoot to shield myself from
the sun and cutting across the firebreak, I again commenced my vigil for
ambulances returning to the hospital. With thoughts of family washing
and tonight's dance... . "Lady Luck" was with me... Good "ole Jim"
heading for the hospital.
With various clangings of the 5:30 supper bells,
people of the block streamed into the mess halls. Murmurs of approval
and disapproval of the menu of "Slop Suey" are heard.
It was still light when the diners returned to their
apartments and idly sat around outdoors chatting about the latest
rumors. Mother and Dad and the neighbors sat on the back bench admiring
our "victory garden."
Tempus fugit. Around 8:30 my escort came, not in his
Cadillac or Packard but strolled to my door on his Footmobile and walked
me to the Block 23 Palladium. alias the mess hall. Dancing with my
escort, occasionally we bumped into the cyclone dancers, snake dancers,
pachook dancers. Some of these neophytes sure step on your feet to save
their soles! The last dance ended around a quarter to twelve! Again we
made use of our Footmobiles and tramped home. I went to the shower room
for the last clean-up.
On my knees I prayed "Now I lay me down to sleep..."
Then I quietly slipped into my straw tick bed.
