Joyce Okazaki

JOYCE OKAZAKI
Family # 1240
Camp: Manzanar, CA
Address: 12-9-4

My grandfather came to the United States in 1897 as a 17 year old from Odawara, Japan. My grandmother came from the same village to marry him in 1906. They lived in Pasadena where my mother was born. My father was born in Kyoto, Japan and came to the United States in 1916 with his parents at the age of 12. Both my parents graduated from college. My mother was a P.E. major, Dad an architect, but there were no jobs for him because of the Depression and he was not a US citizen. He worked at my grandfather’s dry goods store. My mother also worked at the store.

When Pearl Harbor was bombed, our family was celebrating my grandfather’s birthday at a Chinese restaurant. The FBI took my grandfather to jail and later to prison camp in Mis­soula, MT, as an enemy alien.

In order to stay to­gether as a family, my parents decided to go to Manzanar with my grandmother, aunts, and uncles. They had a very short time to sell the car. Furni­ture and appliances were to be stored in the basement of my grandfa­ther’s store, which was closed by the government and boarded up, but had a large basement. I remem­ber having two dolls that were my favorite toys. I wanted to take one doll with me, but there was no room in the one suitcase per person we were allowed. My parents, my sister, and I left for Manzanar As­sembly Center on April 2, 1942, first by train, then by army transport. My grandmother, two unmarried aunts, one uncle, and two married aunts and their hus­bands were in Man­zanar by April 1. We arrived at night. It was dark and seemed scary.

All four of us had to live in one room, which was also occupied by my grandmother, two aunts, and one uncle – eight of us! We had to live like this until more barracks were built. My relatives moved to another barrack in Block 29 and we stayed in the original room, Block 12, Barrack 9, Room 4, 12-9-4. School did not start until the fall. Since I was in second grade at Maryknoll, I wanted to be in third grade. My mother let me go into third grade. All students were tested. My scores were such I was able to attend summer school for fourth grade and then go on to fifth grade in the fall. Fourth grade was very brief and fifth grade was a blur. Later, adjusting to regular school in sixth grade in Chicago, IL was difficult. I did not regain achieving at a high level until eighth grade.

Ansel Adams, noted photog­rapher, took our pictures, individually and with the family for a book he would publish, Born Free and Equal. Our pictures have been featured in many museum and art gallery showings of this work or of camp life, in addition to appearing in the book.

I had two friends with whom I played all the time. We’d play indoor games like cards or paper dolls, and outdoor games, like hopscotch, circle scotch, and other sidewalk games. I have kept in touch with one friend through the years, although we never lived in the same area again. Now we keep in touch by e-mail. I saw my other friend at a camp reunion almost 50 years later. We now keep in touch once a year.

In Manzanar we raised rabbits. Of course, we know how they multiply. Well, there was always a shortage of meat – beef, pork, chicken – for our meals. We rarely had any to eat. I always think that is why I am short today! For Christmas of 1943, we came up with a plan to kill all the rabbits and we would have a feast. The day of the slaughter was a big event in our block. A crowd of people stood by the cages and watched as men caught the rabbits, drowned them, skinned them, cut off their heads, drained the blood, and put them in a pile. The fur was saved to sell and rab­bits were eventually cut up and cooked for dinner. When it came time for the rabbit dinner, I took one look at the meat on my plate, took one bite, could not swallow it, and to this day, I will not eat rabbit. I stubbornly remained hungry that night.

I was elementary school age when I lived in Man­zanar. Because I was with my parents, I felt secure. I remember that I did not like having to go outside to another barrack to go to the toilet or take a bath or shower. I did not like waiting in line to eat and I did not like the food. I hated canned green beans, spinach, pork and beans, and squid tough as rubber with tentacles and internal membranes. Many times I refused to take a bite, even though my mother would make me sit for an hour.

My father decided to leave camp and go to New York to look for work. He left in February 1944 after completing the necessary paperwork for permis­sion to leave camp. He found work in New York, but the job was in Chicago, IL. After he worked for a few months to build a nest egg, he found a place for us to live amid a city with a housing shortage and sent for us. We left camp in July of 1944, first by bus, then by train for Chicago. We stopped in Salt Lake City, UT, to visit my grandfather, my dad’s father, who had moved there earlier.

We arrived in Chicago and lived in this apartment over a bar on the corner of Clark and Division for one month. My parents found an apartment in a tenement that was condemned, but because of the housing shortage, it was quickly renovated and reopened. We lived there for six years and I went to the local parochial school in this area. I never hid where I was from and my classmates had no knowledge of what happened in California, did not understand, and had never seen Japanese Ameri­cans. They did not treat me differently and I did not feel any prejudice.

My advice to students who read this is to be tolerant of all people, learn about all the different cultures and people from different lands. Knowledge will prevent your being prejudiced against people differ­ent from you. Be concerned when the civil rights of one person or group of people are taken away. Don’t sit back and say, “It’s not my problem!” You never know if an event will occur when the same solution to the problem will be used in the future. We live in the USA and we all cherish our freedom. We need to protect it zealously.

Wind and Dust
This wind and dust I have to bear
How hard it blows I do not care.
But when the wind begins to blow – ­
My morale is pretty low.
I know that I can see it through
Because others have to bear it too.
So I will bear it with the rest
And hope the outcome is the best.
– George Nishimura, age 16 (Manzanar, 1943)

Read this to learn more about the demographics of each of the ten facilities administered by the War Relocation Authority.

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