Yayoi Okuno Hirashiki

YAYOI OKUNO HIRASHIKI
Family # 4604
Camp: Manzanar, CA
Address: 10-6-1

My parents were married in Japan and came to San Francisco in 1905. They had seven girls and a son, all born on Terminal Island, located between San Pedro and Long Beach.

Father and a brother owned a commercial fishing boat and fished Southern California, Mexico and Panama waters. Mother and two oldest daughters worked in a fish cannery. The rest of us were attending San Pedro Schools. I was in the 8th grade.

On December 7, 1941, we were shocked. My dad was taken by the FBI and his boat was confiscated. Monday we did not want to go to school. People stared at us and we felt guilty, for we looked like the enemy.

Our roots were cut from under us. Fear of “What’s going to happen? Where are we going?” Take only what we can carry; one suitcase or duffel bag.

Mother heard how the American Indians were treated by the US Army so she gave each of us $25 to pin to our undies for emergency, food, or shelter, if sepa­rated. Used furniture people converged on Terminal Island and bought household fur­nishings, some almost new, for ten cents on the dollar or less. Our neighbor lady, child­less, her husband also taken by the FBI, had to dispose of her furnishings. I helped her deal with the “gruff” buyers, who intimidated and scared her to sell for almost nothing.

Bused to Manzanar Concentration Camp from West Los Angeles, soldiers with guns and bayonets guarded us all the way. But for whose protection?

We were miserable, with dust blowing everywhere – in our eyes, mouth, hair, and in our room.

First, we didn’t know that there were so many American Japanese.

Second, we, rich or poor, were all in the same situ­ation: eat, shower together with no privacy, and families lived in one room.

One time, there was a protest by a group and a young man was killed by a “nervous” M.P.

Being incarcerated, my parents were able to rest from daily responsibility of providing for the fam­ily.

My parents, oldest sister and her husband and baby, my brother and youngest sister went to Japan. The remaining sisters stayed in the US, as my Mom told us that, “If Japan is good, we will help you. But if things are better in America, you help us.” They left in 1946.

We came to Los Angeles and stayed with our Uncle, Mom’s brother. My youngest sister and I worked as “house girls;” cleaning, cooking and babysitting. Monthly we sent money to our parents. I was able to attend a beautician school while working, and passed my California state license test. I quit my job and worked full time as a beautician.

The low point was when I was spit on by an old man who said, “Jap. Go back where you came from!” I was 19 years old.

In spite of my experiences, I matured fast and still think this is a good country. In 1950 Mom and Dad passed away in Japan.

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.

Back to ID booklet main page.