OUR CULTURE (Return to T.I.)

The Japanese fishing village was started by the adventurous fishermen who endured much hardship in a foreign country where they were unable to speak or write English. Faced with such difficult situations, they stuck together. The main factor for their success must have been their mutual compassion.

This important feeling of compassion, I believe, best describes the character of the Japanese fishing village on Terminal Island. We grew up respecting and helping each other. We were protective of each other. Once a Terminal Islander, always a Terminal Islander.

Growing up on Terminal Island from 1919 to 1941 was an experience which is dear and of tremendous personal treasure for me...priceless. This experience would have been impossible anywhere else in the world. I was fortunate to have been born on Terminal Island.

Kindergarten – Bunch of clowns! From left, Kimio Hatashita, Yoshio Hashimoto, Moto Asari, and Chikao Ryono

Some of my best days were in elementary school, although there were some bad days, too. I believe most of us had the roughest days in kindergarten with Miss Burbanks. She was tough! The carefree preschool days suddenly came to a halt. We no longer could roam barefoot from the First Beach through the wharf to the ferry and around the big ship area.

Mildred Obarr Walizer (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mrs. Mildred Obarr Walizer was principal when I attended East San Pedro Elementary School. The name was changed to Mildred 0. Walizer Elementary School just prior to World War II. She was a quiet, dignified lady, and was so appreciated by the Japanese community that nearly $4,000 was collected to send her to Japan. In Japan, she was able to meet her former students and their parents.

Mrs. Walizer became ill when I was in sixth grade, and Miss Morton, our manual arts (wood shop) teacher, selected Takashi Yamamoto and me to build a breakfast tray. Takashi, our teacher, and I took the tray to her apartment near Cabrillo Beach in San Pedro. We were the last students to see her. About a week later, she passed away.

My teachers, as I remember: Kindergarten, Miss Burbanks and Miss Chan; first grade, Miss Martin; second grade, Mrs. Frigon; third grade, Mrs. Regan; fourth grade, Mrs. Brooks; fifth grade, Mrs. Overstreet; sixth grade, Mrs. Robinson; seventh grade, Mrs. Dever; manual arts, Miss Morton; agriculture, Mr. Logan.

Miss Garcia was our quiet, unsung teacher. She acted as a trusted counselor and go between for the teachers and parents. Communication was almost impossible because we had a peculiar situation: the teachers couldn’t speak Japanese and the parents couldn’t speak English. From kindergarten through seventh grade the student body was 99.9 percent Japanese with two Caucasian students, a boy named Gus and a girl named Fern. (The two Russian children attended later.)

The relationship between the teachers and parents was warm, and they forgave each other’s shortcomings. There existed a close kinship. Despite the difficulties in communication, the teachers had no desire to transfer. This closeness was the envy of other school communities.

Miss Garcia also was instrumental in starting the first parent teacher association. She was helped a great deal by Mrs. Yokozeki. Miss Garcia also was responsible for starting a class for the working mothers. I recall how Mom studied and practiced how to write her name.

The Fujin Kai (Ladies’ Club) was active with much help from Mrs. Yokozeki, who understood and spoke English very well. She and Toma-no-jiiyan also acted as the go betweens for the teachers and the parents. Any item needed by the school was taken care of by Jiiyan. He dedicated his life for the betterment of the Terminal Island children. Our teachers were the best. Who else could have made it under such adverse conditions?

Landmarks behind our school were a Los Angeles Fire Station, the U.S. Post Office, and the Fish and Game Building across the street. Every time the fire siren sounded, the adventurous kids wanted to jump out the windows to chase the fire engines.

Our Group. Front row: Moritaka Nakashima, Hideyu Uyeda, Koo Ito, Ryoji Terada, Iwao Hara. Rest, at random: June Nishida, Aiko Nakamura, Kokane Nakanishi, Chizuru Nakaji, Iku Yamashita, Fumiko Hayashi, Carrie Miyageshima, Hiroko Takahashi, Suzuko Joe, Michi Tanino, Sadako Yoshida, Yukio Tatsumi, Yumiji Higashi, Masuji Nishino, Chikao Ryono, Kiyoshi Nakagawa. Not a very good picture, but we can recall the names. Sorry I couldn’t identify everybody. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Our Teachers – Dr. Davis’s Era. With Toma-no-jiiyan and the teachers. I recognize Mrs. Frigon, Mrs. Brooks, Mrs. Regan, and Miss Martin. Seated on the right is Miss Garcia. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

This project was made possible by Toma-no-jiiyan’s unselfish effort. The float won a prize. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Tsurumatsu Toma, philanthropist. He was Toma-no-jiiyan to all of us and “Jiiyan” to the teaching staff. He put his heart and soul into making Terminal Island a number one community and contributed to every civic activity on the island. I can’t praise him enough. Thank you, Jiiyan. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Miyoshi, his title may be Priest Miyoshi, or Miyoshi-sensei, was connected to what was basically a shrine to honor the emperor and the ancestors. It was in front of Judo Hall. I never understood how the Shinto Temple was funded and how it functioned. It was a shrine with no chapel or room behind it. I suppose people did go there to offer prayer.

“Dai-Jingu” – Shinto Temple. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Terminal Island Baptist Church and Seisho Gakuen. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

New Baptist Church. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

The Terminal Island Baptist Church served as a Japanese language school. Rev, and Mrs. Ito were the early administrators. My father praised and respected them for their accomplishments in initiating education and religion for the Terminal Islanders. My Christmas memories go back to this church, where Christmas plays were performed. We sang the traditional holiday songs, and at the end of the program, the children received a box of Christmas candies. It was a big treat. Rev, and Mrs. Shiraishi succeeded Rev. Ito, and they were followed by our own Rev. K. Yamamoto.

It was at this time (about 1936), the Terminal Island Baptist Church moved into its new building. The Seisho Gakuen remained at the old building.

We attended Japanese school after regular school, from 4 to 6 p.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and from 9 a.m. to 12 noon on Saturdays. I hated language school. Classes were skipped when some of us got involved in pick-up games at the playground. We knew when to quit playing, though, so we could get home at the proper time.

The Japanese school teachers who tried so hard to teach us to read and write the difficult language were Principal lwamoto-Sensei, Kenkichi Murakami-Sensei, Shingu-Sensei, Furutani-Sensei, Yamamoto-Sensei, and Tanaka-Sensei. When Iwamoto-Sensei retired, Ishikawa-Sensei became the new principal.

Murakami-Sensei was a terrific story teller, a talented teacher, and a professional photographer. Most of our family pictures were taken by him, and he took the photograph of the Patriotic cruising along the breakwater. I think he should have remained a photographer instead of becoming a teacher.

Mom told me a story about Murakami-no-Jiiyan and Bayan, Murakami-sensei’s parents. When I was small, we lived near the Murakami’s. Bayan gave me goodies to eat so I would visit them. As I would go around the dining room table, my head invariably hit the sharp corner of the table. Within a short time, Jiiyan had rounded the corners of his favorite table, which he had built.

For years, Murakami-no-Jiiyan was the first visitor on New Year’s Day at our home. He always sang one song, a Japanese ballad.

Mr. Motoyoshi Murakami, a very successful merchant and our Baptist Church Sunday School teacher. Murakami-sensei tried hard to teach us to play musical instruments. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

There was a second Murakami—Sensei on the lsland—Motoyoshi Murakami-Sensei. He owned the successful Murakami Market and taught Sunday School. He was musical, and we enjoyed his trumpet solos at the church service. He tried to teach us to play musical instruments, and I was in his harmonica class. I was so proud of my Hohner Marine Band harmonica, but, unfortunately, my musical talent didn’t match my desire, and my career came to an abrupt end.

Our church groups and the island clubs benefited from his generosity. I remember when the Judo Club toured Northern California cities riding in his new, big truck. He must have sacrificed a lot of business, because we had it for about 10 days. Another time our YMCA group, led by Harvey Hanamura, borrowed the truck to go to Switzer’s Camp near Mount Baldy. Our adviser was Mrs. Poison, who sacrificed her time to come from San Pedro to our weekly meeting, serving cookies and making hot chocolate. Thanks to Murakami-sensei, we were able to make many club trips like this.

Sokei Gakuen and Temple (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Ikeda-Sensei and his family (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Sokei Gakuen’s Boy Scout Drum and Buble Corp 225 (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

The Buddhist Church and Gakuen started later. The Buddhist group was much more affluent than the Baptist because most lssei were Buddhist. It was to be expected that the Buddhist Church would become active. Their language school was advanced with a large enrollment. Much of the island’s civic affairs were centered at the Buddhist church along with the study and continuation of the traditional Japanese arts and culture.

Isseis on the island had a difficult time learning English because the society — social and business — was entirely Japanese. On the other hand, the city-dwelling Japanese had contact with Caucasians and learned English better. The same applied to American customs and traditions.

Most of the families on the island ate Japanese-style food. Steaks and roast beef or poultry was almost unheard of, and much of the cooking was done over two or three burner gas stoves. Many families were embarrassed at the relocation centers because they did not know how to use knives and forks. However, during the Golden Era of fishing prior to the war, many affluent families had slowly changed over to the Occidental style of cooking and living.

Another part of life on the island was transportation. In the early days only several business families had cars and there were no buses. Without transportation, we couldn’t travel very far.

Our proud Fishermen Hall (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

The Fishermen’s Hall was the center of activity on Terminal Island. It was the biggest building and could accommodate the entire village population. It was used for Kendo and Judo tournaments, Gakugei-kai, moving pictures, and civic events. The front of the building was impressive.

During the silent moving picture era, we had Japanese movies at the Fishermen’s Hall, usually once a month. The Japanese movie company had a Benshi, a man who would narrate from the side of the screen. He would also do all the talking parts of the actors and actresses. The sound effects were created by paraphernalia such as drums and bugles. It was always comical, if not disastrous, when the Benshi took the part of an actress, especially in a love scene. The husky male voice never made it. The best Benshi was Kawai Taiyo. Another narrator, whom we named Chon-mage, was the ultimate in futility. He ruined all the tender, emotional scenes with his raspy voice. He got his nickname because of his samurai hairdo. The most popular movie was the Japanese “western,” a samurai sword-fighting picture called, chan-bara. The guys went for a movie called “Tange Sazen,” about a one-eyed, one-armed samurai. The girls would swoon with the popular, romantic movie “Aizen Katsura,” starring Ken Uyehara.

There were many shops on Terminal Island.

Mr. Kazuichi Hashimoto (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Yosaburo Hama (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Hashimoto and Hama hardware stores had a common door toward the front of the building so a person could wander from one store to the other. My father would try to balance his hardware purchases between the two stores, and I often heard him say, “We better buy from Hama this month,” or “It’s about time we give Hashimoto some business.” The good Terminal Island spirit!

Mr. and Mrs. Hirosaburo Yokozeki and son, David. He was Executive Secretary Emeritus of the Japanese Fishermen’s Association. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. and Mrs. Zenmatsu Mio and family. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

The entire Mio group

Mr. Tetsunosuke Koiso, formerly the Tanishita Grocery. Tom Tanishita’s father started this store. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Kinjiro Eto. Taro Eto (the son of Kinjiro), bringing Asao Ishigaki and me home after a USC basketball game at the Pan Pacific Auditorium on a foggy night, took us on a wild ride in his ’36 Ford V-8. We were lost, but still got home at a decent hour. He should have been an Indy 500 driver. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Koshiro Iriye. Terminal Island’s most popular person was Takashi “Tiger” Iriye. Tiger’s uncle, Mr. Shoji, took over followed by Mr. Yamanishi, then Mr. Myoji Kawasaki, who was the brother of Mr. Kanichi Kawasaki. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Benkichi Maeda. Ben Sweet was our Terminal Island ice cream parlor. I did not know the family came from Taiji until much later. They came from the Moriura section, the same as my mother. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Itsuo Yamamoto. This was the meat market where Nagao Henry “Duck” Iida was associated for a very long time. Note Dr. Kimura’s sign above the meat market. This office was first occupied by Dr. Ito, who commuted from Pasadena. The Tuna Street gang should remember playing ball with his two boys, Fum-yan and Ten-yan, every summer vacation. They were good friends of Ichi Hashimoto. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Daibe Ryono. The upstairs was occupied by Dr. Fred Fujikawa’s office. This corner was first Mr. Hamashita’s grocery store, and then used by the Ishino family. Remember Kanemasa? When Mr. Ryono took over, he converted it into a stucco building and started his cafe. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Shobei Takeuchi, Frank Takeuchi’s place. On this section of Tuna Street there was C.J. Hendry Marine Hardware Co., Eagle Chop Suey, and Mr. Tanino’s place. His daughter, Michi, was in my class. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Nakamura. This was a popular noodle shop. Mrs. Nakamura was called “Udon-ya no obasan” to everybody on the island. She always smiled. She was a relative on my father’s side. Her daughter, Misuko often visited our place when we lived at 641 Tuna St. She would play and look after my sister, Misuko. I’d like to know where she is. Misuko was a good Japanese dance performer. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Seichi Nonoshita (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Tanino Place (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Akimatsu Nakamura; my classmate Aiko’s father’s grocery store. I remember Mr. Omata, who was always so neat and well-dressed. Mr. Omata traveled as far as San Pedro Hills to take orders from the farmers. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Noshi Nishinaka, often talked about how neatly he dressed. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Nanka Shokai; Mr. Masakichi Tokunaga, Mr. Iwajiro Asai – our one and only dry goods store, which was a favorite with the ladies. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Sumiichi Toma; one of our more complete stores. Next to the grocery store, Mr. Toma had a book and stationary department. Every New Year’s, he would loan his Mochi-tsuki equipment to his customers. His passenger car and trucks were constantly used by other Terminal Islanders for civic affairs and outings. He was a kind man. The corner of his building was leased to California Bank and the second floor was occupied by Dr. Okami and Dr. Nakaji. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Dr. Yoshio Nakaji’s office (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Y.K. Sakimoto Store. Mr. and Mrs. Fukutaro Minami with Toshiro Izumi and Yasushi Sakimoto. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Sakishima Grocery Store (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. Tomoji Wada and his Tofu-ya. Thanks to Mr. Wada, all the Terminal Island families were able to purchase fresh tofu every day. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

There were several other stores such as Nakashima Grocery Store, Higashi Grocery Store, and Mr. Matsutsuyu’s Tailoring and Dry Cleaning Shop. I do not have any other photographs, and my knowledge of the other merchants is limited. I hope no feelings are hurt.

After elementary school came junior and senior high school in San Pedro. Our experience was totally different than that of other city school students. We had to walk to the ferry landing, take the ferry across San Pedro Channel, then walk to our respective schools, which were several miles away from the San Pedro Ferry Landing.

(Do you remember Mary of the San Pedro Ferry Landing restaurant who first introduced us to frozen Snickers and Milky Way bars?)

There were two ferryboats, Ace and Matt Walsh, and the way the crew members would twirl the rope around the cleat as the ferry boat came alongside the floating landing was a show in itself.

To be lost in a thick fog was the most exciting adventure for us. Several times we almost broadsided a steamship. We would hear the engine go full-throttle in reverse and out of the fog we would see a huge gray wall, the side of a ship perhaps five feet away. At other times we would miss the landing by turning too soon, and we would end up a quarter of a mile south by the fish markets.

We adjusted well and did well at junior and senior high school, taking part in sports and school activities, It wasn’t too difficult to change from speaking Japanese in elementary school to all English in secondary school.

Auto Ferry (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Our Dependable Ferryboat (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Corner of Terminal Way and Barricuda Street (Circa 1990)

I have often wondered who and how the Nihon Buro (Japanese-styled bathtub) was designed in the early 1900’s to accommodate all the Japanese in Fish Harbor. As everybody knows, taking a bath is a ritual for the Japanese.

The strict requirement of the Nihon Buro is to scrub outside the bathtub; usually a bench is provided. After scrubbing, you rinse your body thoroughly with hot water that you scoop out of the tub with a small pail. After this, you are ready to step inside the tub and soak and relax

The Terminal Island tubs were made out of galvanized tin, and could comfortably accommodate an adult and a child The fire chamber was partitioned from the main tub for protection. It was started and fed with wood from the outside All the tubs had redwood covers to keep the water hot.

The tub for the communal bathhouse, made to accommodate quite a few families, was made of thick redwood and could hold as many as six people at one time These were called Kyodo-Buro

Each family had to maintain a continual supply of firewood to heat the tub. One could judge the character of the particular family by studying their woodpile A meticulous family had a neatly stacked woodpile. Each piece of wood was cut to exact length and placed alongside their house. Other families haphazardly stacked their wood and the supply wasn’t plentiful. Keeping ample firewood was a big headache, a continual source of stress and tension. There wasn’t a plentiful supply at the time, and to make matters worse, most of us had to depend on the generosity of the stores to borrow a truck

Although each family was responsible for its firewood, with our Terminal Island spirit we helped each other gather, chop, and cut the wood. At times we would search for firewood from the boat yards to the steamship berth area. We shared the truck. We shared the firewood. We shared the work.

The families sharing the communal bathhouse had to take turns cleaning and starting the large redwood bath tank. Each family had to guarantee a nice hot bath for all the related families Kyodo-Buro was fun for the guys because we would hit the tub about the same time to gab about everything we could think of Maybe the girls needed more privacy

Next to the Nihon-Buro all the families had a galvanized wire net tray. With the use of a light rope and pulley, the tray could be hoisted up a pole to a point above the height that insects fly. It was on this tray that families made a type of jerky. Usually the hi-mono was made from sardine, mackerel, or Spanish mackerel which was split into a thin filet and placed inside the tray. The meat, seasoned with salt, was toasted after being dried in the tray. It was one of our favorite foods. My favorite was anchovy or sardine hi-mono marinated with sugared shoyu and sprinkled with sesame seed, toasted over an open flame. Another favorite winter food was a nice fat sardine cooked in an open flame, especially the flame from the bath firewood. This was a gourmet’s delight.

On Koi-Nobori — Boys’ Day—the family would fly cloth fish on a pole, one koi for each boy in the family. Girls’ Day, along with Bon-Odori, were big events. All the girls dressed in colorful kimonos and danced in unison. Many pretty cho-chin (lanterns) decorated the dancing area.

An interesting and unique Terminal Island custom was in distinguishing a surname by connecting it with occupation, boat, or town. For instance: Standard-no(“of”) Tani, San Lucas-no Tani; Kanamonoya(hardware store)-no Hashimoto; Ubuyu-no Hashimoto; Akebono(boat)-no Seko; Taiiji(town)-no Seko; Success(boat)-no Hara; Southern Cal(cannery)-no Hara; Daiho-no Hori; Udon-ya(noodle soup)-no Nakamura; Ben Sweet(Ice Cream parlor)-no Maeda; Linde(boat)-no Yamasaki; Tama-ya(pool hall)-no Takeuchi; Ohio(boat)-no Marumoto.

Friendly Indian – Arrowhead. Leader George Fukuzaki. Left: Assistant Leader Ben Fukuzaki. Back row: Chikao Ryono, Sueo Nakanishi, ?, Kiyoshi Nakagawa. Front row: Toshiro Izumi, Takashi Yamamoto, Nobuo Iwasaki, Ichi Hashimoto

At left, Wakayama-ken Picnic. At right, typical sandlot ballgame. Masayoshi Masuda facing camera, Koo Ito holding the ball, Chikao Ryono umpiring, Ryoji Terada pitching. Others present: Yasuo Tatsumi, Yukio Tatsumi, Takashi Yamamoto. This was on the lot next to Takashi’s home on Cannery Street in back of Harbor Boat Shop

Taiji-jin-kai Picnic

First Beach. Chikao Ryono, George Fukuzaki, Joe Chartier, Ben Fukuzaki

The YMCA groups on Terminal Island were started by George Fukuzaki, and thanks to him I was able to go to different places and mingle with the older boys, like in the Friendly Indian Club. I have to ask George how he convinced the YMCA to start the youth clubs. Imagine George, a youth of 17, organizing and leading the Friendly Indian and Pioneer Clubs. Some of the most fun-filled and carefree days of my life included the weenie bakes at First Beach with George and Mr. Charles Alford, the YMCA boys’ director, and his scary ghost stories.

We played sandlot ballgames, and had the usual gangs found in any little town in those days. We had the Tuna Street, Cannery Street, Southern California, and Hokkaido groups. We usually competed on very friendly terms, and despite some fights, we never had any serious injuries.

I grew up with many friends, and we were very close, probably because we lived so near to each other. The houses were built by the canneries and the buildings were within 10 feet of each other.

We did not have any paved streets to speak of because the blocks were divided by sandy alleys. Here and there, the different canneries had built their own long block houses (Naga-ya) with one communal bathhouse for every one or two rows of block houses. At times, four or six houses would share one bathhouse.

The houses were constructed on raised foundations with the bathroom built on one corner of the back porch. In the early days, we had no heating system, no water heater and no refrigerator. The ice-boxes were well made and the fancier ones were very efficient.

Our ice-men did not stand around socializing — I imagine because the ice would melt. On the other hand, the grocery store clerks who came to take orders would visit. The first ice-man was Mr. Hanazono of San Pedro, my mother-in-law’s cousin. Mr. Shoji, Tiger’s uncle, was next. The last ice-man was Mr. Yamanishi.

Our milkman was none other than the prominent philanthropist Mr. Fred Wada, also known as Mr. Olympic. The crate holding the milk was covered with cracked ice to keep it cold. Every time he stopped to make a delivery, a bunch of us kids would jump on the truck and scramble for the cracked ice. In those days ice was a big treat because we couldn’t afford to buy ice cream. Besides, it was much more fun!

Mr. Wada later became the owner of several produce markets. He was given the name “Mr. Olympic” because he boarded the Japanese Olympic team in 1932 and helped again in 1984. He also established the Keiro home for the elderly.

Japanese tradition and customs remained strong in this almost completely Japanese village. Our parents were not well-acquainted with the traditional American seasonal holidays. Christmas and Thanksgiving were of secondary importance. There were no ovens to roast the turkey because most families had only two or three gas burners. Besides, most women would not have known how to roast a turkey with all the trimmings. As I recall, pre-World War II stores did not stock turkeys and there were no Christmas trees to be bought.

I don’t recall trimming the Christmas tree as we do now. We started our Thanksgiving turkey dinner when I was in high school. As we turned toward our so-called modern era, our lifestyle did change to become similar to what we enjoy now. The daughters attending high school were able to teach their mothers how to cook American dishes and roast meat. The Obasan-tachi, on their own initiative, with more leisure time for themselves, were now attending adult night school to learn to read and write English. They also were learning how to color and dye fabrics, tailoring and flower arrangement (Ike-bana). I still remember how proud my mother was the first time she roasted pork and made apple sauce. She served the family with a complete set of silver for a grand sit-down dinner. That same year she roasted her first turkey for Thanksgiving dinner.

As I reminisce about the good days of Fish Harbor before the rude interruption, Tachi-noki, the Obasan-tachi of Terminal Island have not been given enough credit. The Obasan-tachi overcame social handicaps and obstacles while maintaining family unity and educating their children. Their husbands were often absent because they were on the high seas fishing to make a comfortable living for their families. Many of the fishermen would be gone a month at a time, while the local fishermen might be gone for as long as 10 days. The responsibilities were tremendous for the mothers who had to run the household singlehandedly. It is no wonder that some of the Obasan had to saw and chop firewood themselves when their offspring were too little to help. It wasn’t much different from the pioneering days of the United States. The Obasan-tachi were never outdone by the men-folk, and were just as gutty and strong as their spouses. We should all bow our heads to them and say, “Thank you, very much, Obasan-tachi, Yoku-ya-ta-ne!”

The ladies of Terminal Island (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Terminal Islanders really enjoyed and celebrated New Year’s Day, O-sho-ga-tsu. However, my father did adopt the good old American custom of shooting off a shotgun on New Year’s Eve. My first memory of the shotgun was when we lived behind the Franco-Italian Cannery. As I watched Dad fire his shotgun, I thought how strong and manly he was.

The preparation for New Year’s Day always started with mochi tsuki, the pounding of cooked rice — mochi-gome — with a wooden mallet called a kine and a stone mortar called an usu. The rice was cooked in a series of wooden trays, usually stacked one on top of another and placed on a platform or base on top of a tub filled with water. The rice was steamed with a good wood fire beneath the tub. The steaming had to start several hours before the pounding.

The fellows would take over the mochi tsuki when the steamed rice was placed into the stone mortar and the pounding began. There would be three fellows with wooden mallets usually made out of a eucalyptus tree. A fourth person would mix the rice as it turned into mochi. The whole process would end with a one-on-one encounter between the mixer and the pounder. The macho pounder would keep beat with the clapping and chanting as everyone gathered to watch. The mixer would knead the mochi. The idea was for the mixer to quickly pick up the hot mochi and make the pounder look silly, hitting an empty mortar — kara-usu. It’s a shame our younger generation cannot experience this mochi tsuki.

The women had their own party inside the house. We could see them talking and whispering their secrets, and we could hear their shrieks of laughter. Their job was to take the hot mochi and place it on a large table covered with flour to prevent sticking. They shaped the mochi into different sizes, some for traditional kasane-mochi topped with a tangerine with leaves still attached. The big kasane-mochi always went to the boat and was placed by the steering wheel inside the pilot’s cabin. Most of the mochi were filled with bean paste to add taste.

Several families traditionally joined my family so we often pounded more than 300 pounds of rice. The crew members and some of my older brother’s friends would volunteer so we were never short of manpower. Yutaka Yoshimoto, a close family friend, always came to help. Similar mochi-tsuki would be taking place throughout Terminal Island for a week or so. It was nothing to have two mochi tsuki parties in full swing on the same block, the fire going, the cooking, and the Issei — some of them quite inebriated from the potent hot sake with hachi-maki — pounding and singing. The young men, with macho spirit, would go from one house to another volunteering their muscles for families short of manpower. The ladies from Taiji would say, “Koi-ni, Toshi-chan, Yuki-chan, chotto he-re-pu (help), shite-yo. 0-ki-ni.” Very good, isn’t it? Yes, you just can’t beat the Terminal Island way!

After mochi-tsuki, the biggest chore was the women’s as they prepared for the New Year’s feast. The Japanese food invariably involved the cleaning and chopping of the food. In those day, we did not have the modern kitchen gadgets, so everything was done by knife. The hardest part was the sen-giri (one thousand slice, meaning very thin slices). Then came the making of sushi and teriyaki chicken and pork. Cooking the traditional black beans took the longest time, but the beans were a must because they meant long life. Naturally there were various seafoods, but mainly tuna sashimi.

The center decorative tray included a large lobster or Tai fish and was the main piece for the dining table. The food on the tray had its own special meaning and was placed in odd numbers. Naturally, the omiki had to be plentiful and hot.

New Year’s Eve meant consuming Toshi-koshi soba, a Chinese style dark noodle, at midnight. With this food we were ready to welcome the New Year.

In the morning we started the New Year with the delicious o-zo-nin. The entire day is still celebrated with relatives and friends dropping in for the New Year’s greeting. In the olden days, Isseis were much more versatile and genki than the people today. They worked hard but knew how to relax and celebrate. The lsseis visiting us to pay their respects would always sing and dance— individually or in a group— when other friends showed up at the same time. Most made up in spirit what they lacked in singing or dancing talent.

Our family still gets together on New Year’s Day with relatives and friends easily numbering more than 40, but we have no hand-clapping and singing. Absolutely not! Sad.

The Isseis were a great generation who knew how to live.

This very unusual fishing village was one big, happy family. Everyone knew each other. The doors were never locked and you could stop at any house and ask for a glass of water. All you had to do was say “Oba-san.” This changed as the canneries became busier and started to expand which brought in a completely different and strange work force. Soon we began to hear how different families were robbed, and we started to lock our homes: Still there was no police force on the island. Several years prior to the evacuation, the Harbor Department started to deploy a few patrols. Strangely, they were never seen after dark; the patrols seemed to work bankers’ hours.

There were three major fires in Fish Harbor: at the French Sardine Fish Cannery, the Franco-Italian Cannery, and at the Harbor Boat Shop. I clearly remember the Franco Italian Cannery fire. Our house was directly behind the cannery. On the night of the fire, my dad shook me to get me up and carried me outside. Mom had my younger brother, Kats, in her arms.

The Long Beach Earthquake of 1933 was a major event which we all remember with the thought, “What would have happened if it had occurred about an hour or so later.” The quake happened about 6p.m. when we were home having dinner and were thinking about seeing the movie at Fishermen’s Hall. In another hour or so the hail would have been jam-packed with people. The hall had only three narrow doorways, and people may have been trampled to death in the panic.

Another event to be noted was the labor conflict between the AFL and 010 in 1939. The conflict became partially racial in nature because the Italians and the Japanese favored the AFL and the Slavonians were adamantly for the ClO. There was a threat of burning the houses on the island. The Los Angeles Police Department assigned detectives to every corner of every block, and the students had to take an assigned route to Dana Junior High and San Pedro High School. Despite the precautionary measures, several bad incidents did occur.

In this small Japanese fishing village, the early Isseis were very ambitious and far sighted. In 1918 the first newspaper — The San Pedro Weekly Journal — was started by Mr. Hatsutaro Sarae. Two men from Taiji, Etsujiro Yonemura and Nobuji Yura, took over the paper and renamed it The HarborJournal. In 1928, Jiusho Hiraga took over the business and became publisher. He renamed the paper the Southern California Coastal Journal.

We were fortunate to have five capable dentists, Dr. N. Ohira, Dr. Yoshimura, Dr. Yoshio Nakaji, Dr. Fujii, and Dr. Yoshi Nakamura.

The first barber to cut my hair was Mr. Ozawa. And what a disastrous affair! I remember running home, crying, and trying to hide my half-finished scalp. I never went back to him. Later our other barbers were Mr. Hanamura (Harvey’s father), Mr. lwasaki, and Mr. Ishigaki, who used to give away Lucky Tiger Hair Lotion to his customers during the 0-seibo period before New Year’s Day.

The Crew (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mr. and Mrs. Kosuke Takeuchi. It was Mr. Takeuchi who researched and wrote the book, “History of San Pedro.” He recorded all the historically pertinent data in his book and left it for us to study. Thank you very much, Mr. Takeuchi. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Dr. Shigeichi Okami (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Dr. Fred Fujikawa. I am sorry that Dr. Ito and Dr. Kimura’s pictures were not available. I faintly recall another M.D. who took over after Dr. Ito. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Dr. Y. Yoshimura (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mrs. Ishii (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi) Misako Ishii (Mrs. Kiyoshi Shigekawa) was our always helpful and reliable pharmacist. Frank Takeuchi was our other pharmacist.

Dr. and Mrs. Fujii (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

C. Ryono family on their trip to Japan in 1937. (Remember: Nippon Yusen Kaisha and its steamships Taiyo Maru, Chichibu Maru, Asama Maru, and the Tatsuda Maru and the Osaka Shosen Kaisha and its steamships Argentina Maru, Brazil Maru, and others.)

Championship Sumo Team (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Skipper Swimming Team (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Judo (L-R) Tamikazu Hamazaki, Kiyoshi Sakimoto, Mr. Yokoyama, Iwao Shirokawa, Tom Tanishita, John Ryono, Teacher: Yajyu Yamada

Kendo – Teacher, Dr. Fuji (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

San Pedro Skippers

Early 1900 prominent personalities. Back row: four unidentified persons and Mr. Tetsunosuke Koiso, third from left, and Mr. Yosaburo Hama, fifth from left. Middle row: Mr. Kazuichi Hashimoto, Mr. Momota Okura, Mr. Kobei Tatsumi. Front row: Mr. Jiusho Hiraga, Mr. Yasutaro Tanaka. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Seinen-kai. Back row: Kiyoshi Sakimoto, Tamikazu Hamasaki, Iwao Shirokawa, Yasushi Sakimoto, Yutaka Yoshimoto. Front row: John Michio Ryono, Tadao Ikari, Isamu Fujita. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

Mutual Fish Co. Katsuo Hayashi and Katsumi Yoshizumi worked here for a long time. (Courtesy of Mr. Takeuchi)

The golden years for the Terminal Islanders was in full swing from 1934 to Dec. 7, 1941. It was a period of affluence for everyone. By now a majority of homes had washing machines, stoves with ovens, refrigerators, living rooms with matching sofas, a few pianos, and even a few fancy short-wave, multi-band radios. A family would invite the neighbors over whenever they were able to receive Japanese programs, and the neighbors would come running over to listen to the Japanese news and music.

Even if Dec. 7, 1941, did not occur, I believe Fish Harbor would have eventually deteriorated to its present, sad state. Over the years the fishing boats had to relocate their home ports, and the canneries had to follow. Today only the Al Larson Boat Shop and the Pan Pacific Fish Cannery remain.

The reaction of our government to Dec. 7, 1941, shattered our faith in our Bill of Rights. I will not relate more of the tear-jerking stories or the horrible experiences of the Nikkei. Much has already been written. For the people of Terminal Island the actions of our government were shocking and unbelievable. Little did we realize this fatal day was the beginning of the end of our style of living. Gone would be our kyodo-buro, gone would be our New Year’s Day and our mochi-tsuki, gone would be the himono tray on the tall pole, and we would no longer hear the cannery whistle.

However, evacuation and relocation gave us an impetus to assimilate with a wider society. Our circle of friends became larger and our horizon became unlimited. After all we did have much to learn. Evacuation had its positive effects, but what a price we had to pay.

With Dec. 7, 1941, and with Executive Order 9066 in March of 1942, we could have looked down Tuna Street and said, “Saraba-yo, Tami-na-ru.” For it was a permanent goodbye.

The women hard at work. (San Pedro News Pilot)