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Title TREK
Subject Internment of Japanese Americans, 1942-1945; Japanese American Evacuation and Relocation, 1942-1945
Description Newspaper published by the internees at Topaz Japanese Internment Camp.
Date 1943-02
Type Text
Format application/pdf
Digitization Specifications Scanned and OCR'd by a colleague of Jane Beckwith. University of Utah received JPEG images approximately 700x900 pixels with associated text files.
Source Original journal: TREK
Contributing Institution Topaz Museum, PO Box 241, Delta, Utah 84624
Language eng
Rights Management Digital version, copyright 2004 Topaz Museum. All rights reserved.
Metadata Cataloger Kenning Arlitsch
ARK ark:/87278/s6vh5mtj
Setname tc_tm
Date Created 2004-09-03
Date Modified 2004-09-03
ID 341494
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6vh5mtj

Page Metadata

Title pg15
Description my throat, "This is San Francisco. My San Fraacisco,-" I murmured to myself* What was I wearing, Annabelle? My best kimono, a beautiful thing. But do you know what your grandpa did when he saw me come off the boat? He looked at it and shook his head. He hauled we a-round as if he were ashamed of me. I could not understand, "Never wear this thing again," he told me that night. "Why?" I demanded. "It is a beautiful kimono." "You look like a foreigner," he said. "You must dress like an American, You belong here." He gave mo a dress, a coat, a hat, stockings, and shoes, my first American clothes. I stopped dozens of tlfiiQa $a front of the mirror to see how I leaked. Yes, I remember the big hats they used to wear then, and the long skirts that dusted the dirt off the streets. Seme day I shall go up to the attic ©f auy Oakland home and bring down the old album and show you the pictures of those old days. I cannot find the street now where your grandpa and I lived that first year but it is somewhere in San Francisco. We had a small empty house and no money. We spread our blankets on the floor and slept. We used big boxes for tables and small ones for chairs. The city of my dreams began to frighten me. Rocks were thrown at the house and the windows smashed to bits. Loud cries and laughter followed each attack, and I cowered in the corner waiting for the end. "Oh, why did I come,? Whatever did we come for?" I asked your grandpa. He only looked at me, "Just a little more time....a little more time/' his eyes seemed to say. I could not refuse. But we moved out of San Francisco. We came across the Bay, and after much saving your grandpa bought a bathhouse in Oakland. And that was where your daddy was born. We lived in the rear, and for four years it was our home. Ah, the year your daddy was born I That was when for the first time I began to feel at home. It was on account of a little neighbor, the white American wife of a Japanese acrobat, They were touring the country as headliners but had settled down in Oakland for some reason. They lived next door with their adopted Japanese children. "Mich-chan, Taka-ohanl Comefiomei Mich-chan, Taka-ehanJ" Her cries used to ring across the yard like a caress. The Japanese acrobat came often. "Please come and talk with my American wife, She is lonely and has no friend here," he told me. I shook my head ashamedly. "I am lonely, "top, but I cannot speak English. When your American wife starts talking, I am in trouble," I explained. Then he would laugh and scold me. "Talk? You don't have to talk. My wife iidll understand. Please do not be a-frald." One day th» American lady «ame, ajid we had: tea. We drank silently and smiled »-All the time I was hoping she would not b«gin talking. She liked my tea and «ak«s, I could tell. She talked of sim- 15
Format application/pdf
Resource Identifier 017_pg15.jpg
Source Original journal: TREK
Setname tc_tm
Date Created 2004-09-03
Date Modified 2021-05-06
ID 341462
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6vh5mtj/341462