The California Immigrant

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by Barbara Anne King


  “Well, even in my little town, we have our share of politics. I am hoping that this peace treaty will help settle things between the races there. The Japanese are still not back to where they were before the war. As mayor, it really wears on me, and I also have some good Japanese friends whose pain I can feel.”

  “Enough politics for now. I’m sure we’ll be saturated with it before the week is over. Let’s go into my office and start working on a menu for Truman’s luncheon.”

  Martin and Stan walked through the kitchen to the small office at the back. After they were both seated, Martin said, “As I recall from last time, President Truman has simple tastes and favors beef.”

  “You have a good memory.”

  “Not so good. Do you have a copy of the last menu to refresh me?”

  When they were done putting the menu together along with the grocery list, Stan said, “So, how is everything with the family?”

  “Lena is well. She keeps occupied with the grandchildren—Clara’s four and Frankie’s two boys. And both Marty and Tom Paul graduated from Stanford with engineering degrees.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’m impressed. What are they doing now?”

  “Marty is at Mare Island learning how to design ships. He has the sea in his blood and also shipbuilding. Did I ever tell you relatives back home are shipbuilders?”

  “No, you didn’t. But it certainly helps. So, what about Tom Paul?

  “He loves flying, so once he earned his diploma, he went right to the airlines to apply for a pilot’s job. Pan Am hired him and he’s based here in San Francisco.”

  “So, your family is migrating back to the city.

  “Not all. Don’t forget both Clara and Frankie still live in Watsonville and, being in the apple business, they are tied to the land.”

  “Tied to the land. That’s how I feel sometimes when I think about Yugoslavia. Do you ever feel that way?”

  “Much more so now that I’m older. When I was young I was too busy to think about it.”

  “Would you ever want to go back, even just for a visit?”

  “I don’t know. That might be tempting fate.”

  The Japanese Peace Treaty was signed by most countries in attendance on September 8. Russia refused to sign and its satellites—Czechoslovakia and Poland—followed suit. “Now, it has been confirmed why Yugoslavia didn’t attend,” said Martin.

  “You were certainly right when you said they didn’t want to be sandwiched between the two big powers. It will be interesting, though, to see Tito’s next move.”

  “Tito was probably weaned on chess. He won’t be able to outmaneuver the Russians at that game but the Americans are not chess players. I’m not sure what game they play, but they’re certainly good at it.”

  “When you hold all the cards or chess pieces, there’s no reason to play. You can just forge ahead doing what the hell you want.”

  “I guess that’s the kind of country we’re living in now. We don’t need to wonder what move our poor pawn of a country is going to make and if it will be captured by the tricky rook.”

  “That’s right. America is so big it can name the game and choose the rules.”

  Chapter 82

  When Martin got back to Watsonville, he stopped by the restaurant since it was still open. He was unprepared for what he found. Liu was in the foulest mood he’d ever seen him in and he and Carlos were not speaking. “What’s wrong?”

  “If you can guess, I don’t need to tell you,” Liu said. “I should have created a new menu for the week with numbers.”

  “I understand. Communication has been a problem, has it?”

  “If someone orders sand dabs, it comes to the kitchen as seafood risotto. If they order seafood risotto, the order reads bakalar en brodo. If…

  “Okay, okay. I get the picture. The week did not go well in other words. Did it go any better at the Lotus Blossom Cafe?”

  “Of course it did. Order by number works.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to take a cue from you and redo my menu the Chinese way.”

  “You will thank me for the idea.”

  Martin glanced over in Carlos’s direction. He had a smile on his face as he greeted customers and moved in an easygoing way. When he put in the order, he waited for Liu to look up and then gave him a smile as well. Liu appeared soothed. Peace does begin with a smile, he thought, just as Mother Theresa always says.

  Martin made a visit to Ken to tell him that the Japanese Peace Treaty had been signed, officially ending the war. “I thought the day would never come,” he said. “It’s been six years since the atom bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.”

  “Well, when you have most of the world’s countries involved in the settlement, it takes time.”

  “And what about Russia? Did she sign the treaty?”

  “Not yet.” Ken’s face dropped as a look of concern washed over it. “Don’t worry,” said Martin. “No one wants another war.” Ken just nodded.

  “I had a letter from my cousin in Hiroshima. They are moving ahead to build a peace park in the center of town where the bomb struck. And do you want to know about a real coincidence?”

  “Yes, tell me.”

  “Remember the artist I told you about who came to Poston to start an arts program for us. His name is Isamu Noguchi and he is a sculptor. He is creating two bridges. The West Peace Bridge will have a sunset as symbol of the past. The Peace Bridge will have a sunrise as symbol of the future.”

  “That is amazing. Through him and Poston, you and the entire Japanese community will be connected to the peace park.”

  “That is what we have been thinking, too. We Japanese believe in the connection to our family and ancestors.”

  Chapter 83

  The year 1953 was momentous. Dwight Eisenhower was inaugurated president, the Korean War ended, and a European, Edmund Hillary, and an Asian, Tenzing Norgay, reached the top of the world—the summit of Mt. Everest. How symbolic. Even more symbolic were Hillary’s words. “Life’s a bit like mountaineering—never look down.” Martin thought that was a lot like what the Bible cautioned about looking back and moving ahead. It’s what the Peace Bridge reflects in its design—the setting sun is already behind you, keep an eye on the rising sun.

  Ken came into the restaurant on Christmas Eve to wish Martin a Merry Christmas. “Guess what? My cousin invited me to the Peace Park Memorial Ceremony which takes place on August 6, the anniversary of the bombing. They have been holding it every year since 1947, but now that the Peace Park is complete, the event will be very special.”

  “I hope you’re going. It should not be missed.”

  “Unfortunately, I do not have the money for airfare. My cousin will offer hospitality but I won’t be able to get there.”

  “Just hang on a minute. You will be going. We just need to figure out a way to pay for a ticket.”

  “Do you really think there is a way to accomplish this?”

  “There is always a way.” Martin began to brainstorm. Donors could be approached. A fundraiser could be held. And Tom Paul…he has flight benefits…maybe he could get a free ticket. “My mind is already working overtime, trying to come up with a solution. And I think I have a few good ones. Start packing your bags.”

  “Oh, Martin, this would mean so much to me and my family.”

  “You will be representing our town. It will give us something to rally around.”

  Martin knew Tom Paul had the day off so rather than wait to talk to him at home on Christmas Eve, he called him during his break in customers.

  “Pa, is everything all right? You usually don’t call this time of day. If you’re making sure I’m coming tonight, I wouldn’t miss out on one of our Christmas Eve dinners for anything.”

  “Yes, all is fine but something important has come up and I need your help.”

  “I’m listening…shoot.”

  “Do you remember my friend Ken Nakamura?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Well, it d
oesn’t matter if you do or not. He came by a few minutes ago and told me his cousin in Hiroshima invited him to the Peace Park ceremony.”

  “That’s good. But why are you calling me about this?”

  “He can’t afford the airfare. I thought you might be able to help.”

  “You know my benefits are only for myself and close family members.”

  “Correct. But, perhaps, you could approach the right person at the airline and tell them Ken’s story. Remember, it would be an opportunity for some very good publicity. Businesses are always looking for a way to promote themselves.”

  “You’re right. In fact, I know a gal who works in the public relations department. She might have some good ideas or at least be able to point me in the right direction.”

  “Now you’re thinking.”

  That evening when he got home, Martin made a few more calls. He had not wanted to mention to Tom Paul his other thoughts for obtaining a ticket. If he did, he knew he would risk Tom Paul procrastinating. There wasn’t much time so he had to act fast. “Dr. Rosen, I’m sorry to call so late but I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

  “I am always glad to hear from our mayor. What is it about?” Then Martin went onto explain Ken’s situation. There was a long pause on Dr. Rosen’s end before he spoke again. Martin was worried that he had made a mistake in contacting him. “You probably know that I am a Jew. The Jews suffered horrible atrocities during the war. We have tried to turn our suffering into compassion even for our enemies.” Martin didn’t respond; he just listened. “The Japanese living in Hiroshima also suffered terrible atrocities. Most of those injured were civilians, even women and children. I would consider it a privilege to help Ken take part in the Peace Park ceremony. By doing so, it would connect my heart to their suffering.”

  Martin was momentarily speechless. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Not only will I write a check, but I will reach out to my friends with deep pockets and ask them to help, too. We will get the money for Ken. You have my word.”

  When Martin hung up the phone, he leaned against the wall for a few moments reflecting on his conversation. Certainly, he had struck a note in Dr. Rosen…one that played on his heartstrings. Almost anything is possible when people are moved to compassion.

  Chapter 84

  At the beginning of August, Martin drove Ken and his wife, Ami, to San Francisco International Airport to meet Tom Paul for the flight. Martin had collected so much money that both Nakamuras were able to afford the trip. The evening before, the Japanese community had a special bon voyage party for the Nakamuras at the Buddhist Temple. Everyone wanted to participate in the occasion as much as possible. When people learned they could put messages in lanterns that they would send down the river to the dead, everyone wanted to write one. But since only two people were going, only two messages were selected. However, everyone had an opportunity to make a paper crane for the children’s monument, dedicated to children who had been victims of the bomb.

  Both Ken and Ami were dressed in western clothes for traveling but they had packed their kimonos for the ceremony and other traditions they expected to take part in. It was going to be a long journey but Ken and Ami were looking forward to it. They planned to fly to Toyo and spend a few days taking in the sights in the capital city—the Imperial Palace, Senso-ji Temple, and Kabuki-za Theatre in the Ginza district. From there, they would take a train to Hiroshima.

  When the flight was announced, Martin took out something from his pocket and said, “This is a statue of the patron saint of Dubrovnik, St Blaise. He is a healer not only of man but plants and minerals, too. It is my prayer that he can help Hiroshima heal.”

  At first Ken did not know what to say. “I have not heard of this saint before but I thank you for your thoughtfulness. What should I do with him?”

  “Find a little niche. It could be a hollow in a tree or some obscure corner in a building. For us, he is a powerful saint, our heavenly protector. He warned the city of a Venetian attack many centuries ago but he is also a healer we look to whenever illness presents itself.”

  “This is certainly a very special gift. In some ways it will connect your ancestral homeland with mine. A powerful force.” That’s exactly what Martin had been thinking as well.

  The Nakamuras waited for their turn in line patiently until they were given the go ahead by the attendant to move through the loading ramp into the plane. Martin waited by the big picture windows until the Pan Am plane with the Nakamuras aboard took off under Tom Paul’s command. He had never been on a plane so he had no idea what the feeling of flight was like but it seemed awesome, almost magical the way the jet lifted so effortlessly into the sky. Before departing, he quietly said a prayer for travel mercies.

  Two weeks later, Martin was at the gate waiting to greet the Nakamuras on their return. He was surprised to see them wearing kimonos. “Please excuse us for not wearing western attire but we had no time to change before we boarded our return flight.”

  “No need to apologize. It’s good for people to see how proud you are of your heritage. The world needs to move forward and you are helping us do just that. So, how was the trip?”

  “It was so amazing. I met cousins I didn’t even know I had. But it was sad, too, to hear how they suffered during the war, especially after the atom bomb struck. Some of my relatives will never be the same. The skin on their bodies melted from the heat of the bomb. And one woman lost a side of her face. It is not easy to go on with life like that, but she is doing it, and so is everyone else there. To Ami and me, they were an inspiration.”

  “I cried when I saw the monument dedicated to the children victims with a statue of Sedako Saski on top holding a crane,” said Ami.

  “What is the meaning of the crane?” asked Martin.

  “The story goes that Sedako, who was dying of leukemia, wanted to make a thousand paper cranes so her wish to live would be granted. But she fell short and her family and friends finished making them for her with the wish changed to peace. That is why people all over the world still make paper cranes…for peace,” Ami said.

  “You are leaving out the words on the plaque,” said Ken. “It reads: ‘This is our city. This is our prayer. Peace on Earth.’”

  “That is such a beautiful sentiment,” said Martin. “Let’s sit down and talk while we wait.”

  “During the ceremony, at the exact time the bomb struck on August 6 at 8:15 a.m., temple bells rang out and a moment of silence was observed. After the peace declaration, doves were released into the air to fly over the Peace Park and the city of Hiroshima.”

  “Did you get to walk on the bridges Noguchi created?”

  “Yes, and they were beautiful. They lead to the Fountain of Prayer dedicated to those who died crying ‘water, water.’”

  “And when we came back to the river at night to release the lanterns bearing wishes for peace, we were awestruck by the sight of so many lanterns, as if on parade, passing the Atomic Bomb Dome for review,” said Ami.

  Immediately, the image of a thousand Japanese carrying lanterns in the town parade so many years ago came to Martin’s mind. No one who witnessed it ever forgot that sight. Now he wondered, if instead of a blessing, it had been an omen.

  “And another thing we learned,” said Ami, “Hiroshima has a sister city in Belgium…Ypres. Unfortunately, they are sisters in sorrow. They both share the legacy of chemical weapons in war. Ypres has a ceremony every evening to honor those who died.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot about the statue of your saint,” said Ken. “I found a niche just as you recommended in one of the Chinese Umbrella trees that had been badly injured by the bomb, so much so that everyone thought they were dead. But they had a big surprise in store the following spring when they began to bud as if to say life overcomes death.”

  “That makes me very happy. Those trees are a living reminder of what our faith also teaches...death will be triumphed by life.”

  Chapter 85


  In 1960 a Catholic was on the ballot for President. Many thought a Catholic couldn’t get elected to the highest office in the land and others feared the influence the Pope would have on him. Of course, John F. Kennedy was partly formed by his faith. And as Martin and Lena discussed the campaign, they were overjoyed they had a candidate who shared their deep belief in God and the power of prayer. When Kennedy won the election, Martin thought the future had finally arrived and he looked forward to it.

  But not long after Kennedy took office, Lena developed a cough that led to a lung infection. “Are you wearing St. Blaise’s medal?”

  “No, I stopped wearing it years ago after I was clear of tuberculosis. But I think I put it in my jewelry box for safe keeping.”

  “Well, let’s find it and put it on. It’s you who needs safe keeping.”

  When Lena returned from the office visit to Dr. Rosen, the son who had taken over his father’s practice, she had bad news. “Martin, let’s go into the living room. I want to tell you what the doctor said.”

  After they had taken seats on the sofa so they could sit side by side, Lena took Martin’s hand in hers, “He said the tuberculosis has returned. Remember, years ago his father told us that it could and now it has.”

  Martin put his arm around Lena and hugged her close. “You beat it once, you can beat it again. You need fresh air and good nutrition.”

  “I don’t think it will be that easy this time. I was younger and stronger then. Dr. Rosen said the disease is already quite advanced.”

  “What about the sanatorium near San Francisco? Ari something?

  “Arequipa. It closed a few years ago.”

 

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