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JAPANESE DAIRY FARMERS IN WASHINGTON STATE

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Grandpa & Grandma Tsu... Grandpa & Grandma Tsukamaki
On their dairy farm in Kent, WA, 1920
K Tsukamaki, my maternal grandpa, came to the Seattle area from Hiroshima, Japan, in 1907 and became a dairy hand. He had a Japanese immigrant uncle that was already working as a dairy hand in the Kent valley. In a 1971 interview, Grandpa K was eighty-five years old and told me in Japanese,

“Up until the time of WWI there were close to 100 Japanese dairy farmers and the Nihonjin Rakuno Kumiai (Japanese Dairy Farmers Association) grew to about 150 members. The first president was Gentaro Ikeda, who was the biggest dairy farmer, owning 200 head of milking cows. From this period on discrimination towards Japanese people began to appear more and more. There was a time when the dairy companies would not handle milk produced by Japanese. Mr. Ikeda became the promoter and began a cheese factory which for a time gathered milk from Japanese dairymen. But lacking in management skills, it did not go well. Consequently, it ended up being sold to a Caucasian Association. As an officer of the association, I went through hardships beyond expression.”

“Mr. Fukuhara was then engaged in the business of recruiting people to various jobs. He was hired by the Japanese Dairymen’s Association, about 300 members, to negotiate with the Caucasians. Most of the milk shipped to Seattle at that time were in the hands of the Japanese milk producers. When the White River Creamery (raw milk association) was formed in Seattle, most of the officers were Japanese. Mr. Fukuhara exerted his great effort for the sake of our association. Because the the past president, Mr. Ikeda, of the association went back to Japan, I was elected as his successor. Most of my day during that time was spent in rendering services for the public business. I was then the president of the White River Japanese Association as well as the president of the Japanese Language School.”

During the time I was serving as the president of various organizations, discrimination against Japanese was at the highest and because of that, it was a period of great hardship for all the local Japanese associations. Seattle, in order to plan strategies to tackle discrimination against Japanese, consolidated all the local Japanese associations into one. Although Rengo Nihon kai (United Japanese Association) was formed, deliberations were done on strategies to cope with discrimination and all kinds of measures were introduced for the sake of assimilation to the United States by forming a group called DOKOH-KAI (problem solving group). All efforts in this Americanization and assimilation movement ended without bearing fruits, as shown by the Japanese language newspaper of Seattle splitting into two factions. Money solicited for the cause was of no use.

Contrary to our cause, discrimination towards Japanese became ever stronger and the United States Congress passed a discriminatory land bill directed toward Japanese aliens as well as the Asian Exclusion act in 1924. This brought a final blow to the Japanese farmers. For some, lands were taken away and most Japanese were completely lost, not knowing what to do. For us in the dairy farming business, smaller farms with 30 heads to bigger ones with 200 head, conditions were such that milk cows had to be sold at prices below cost. Most of them went bankrupt. My stomach churns when I think of this period. Even at present I still see the events of that period in my dreams.

Because of such a condition, I sold my cows and started regular vegetable farming under Nisei’s name, Mr. Yoshida. He was a citizen because he had served in the U.S. Army during WWI. But not being familiar with vegetable farming, things did not go as well as I wished. When a person starts to go downhill, nothings goes well. In December 1926, my wife was stricken with an acute pneumonia and died on December 28th. I felt lost and helpless not knowing what to do with four children, five to eight left behind.”

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Stop Wasting Your Life & Unlock Your POTENTIAL

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"This Was A KEPT SECRET By... "This Was A KEPT SECRET By Monks!" / SUDHGURU
"Pain is necessary and valuable. Suffering is a choice of our mind. Right now, if you are miserable, you are sending a message to every cell in your body that you don't want to live," Sudhguru shares!

Sadhguru is the founder and head of the Isha Foundation, based in Coimbatore, India. The foundation, established in 1992, operates an ashram and yoga centre that carries out educational and spiritual activities. Sadhguru has been teaching yoga since 1982.

Here's a link to the podcast: https://youtu.be/Gw1I7fqmxmA

Some of life's answers for me have been to simply listen to podcasts such as this on my computer. 

I was listening some to the wild fires that destroyed the town of Lahaina on Maui. I then decided there was nothing I could do but be available to help if someone I personally know was part of the devestation.

So, now while I am waiting for this evenings activities here in Burbank with my daughter's family, I went back to listening to this podcast which is reaffirming of making a choice that balances my thoughts that influences me to be a nine or ten (on a scale of 1 to 10 - rating for good health) as I interact in my life activities.

"I am the Captain of my ship (body), and the master of my soul" (choices for a life with purpose).

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COMEDY OF UNCLEAR COMMUNICATION

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"ONE" - of the several hundre... "ONE" - of the several hundred lanterns floated at the
HIROSHIMA TO HOPE event on August 6, 2023
As posted on my blog, I read the Mary Fujita story at the event last Sunday. It was attended by several hundred people and 1000 lanterns were prepared to remind us all that it is important that Hiroshima and Nagasaki must not happen again.

I was part of the program so I was one of the first ones in the procession that followed the leaders to the dock where the candles were lighted and floated on to a spectacular Greenlake evening. I had to go to the bathroom so I made my way back through the massive crowd waiting to float their lanterns.  I did not stay for the rest of the evening. 

I had a guest with me and we chose to have clam chowder at Dukes and relieve ourselves with their facilities. Later we drove around the lake and saw some of the lanterns, but didn't find an easy place to view the whole lake.

Nana had mentioned earlier, on Sunday morning that she had been asked to take pictures.  I texed her, "Do you have lantern pictures?" 

She answered, "Yes Suzanne asked me to take photos so I got quite a few. I'll sort them later this week."

I responded, "Just want one."

Monday morning I awakened to a text from Nana with the picture of the "ONE" lantern :-) !!!

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FEEDING AI OF OUR FUTURE WITH LOVE

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Joscha Bach. Part of the famil... Joscha Bach. Part of the family of composer Bach of Germany

Today, I listened to  a Lex Fridman interview with Joscha Bach. What impresses me is the work these scientist are doing at MIT University with development of AI.

It is clear that the intelligence created with AI is created from the intelligence and stories published and available in our society today. Therefore, as explained in this conversation, it is up to each of us to influence what will be created with food for AI of LOVE, TRUTH, RESPONSIBILITY for human fulfillment and trancendence.

Lex lists Bach's idea about the 7 stages of life: "Stage one, reactive survival (infant). Stage two, personal self (young child). Stage three, social self (adolescence, domesticated adult). Stage four is rational agency (self-direction). Stage five is self-authoring, that’s full adult. You’ve achieved wisdom, but there’s two more stages. Stage six is enlightenment, stage seven is transcendence."

Bach explains  "I’m not even sure if it’s a very good developmental model, because I saw my children not progressing exactly like that. I also suspect that you don’t go through these stages necessarily in succession, and it’s not that you work through one stage and then you get into the next one. Sometimes, you revisit them."

Even if we don't get there, Enlightment and Transcendence is not a bad goal for all of us to contribute toward with AI technology???



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RIDING TO 56 YEARS OF HAPPINESS

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RIDING TO 56 YEARS OF HAPPI...
The place is Birch Bay, near the Canadian border. It was Labor Day 1960. I was 21 and Sam was 27.

Sam and I had been dating, but this was the first time we spent the whole day together. 

Dating within our Japanese American community was the expectation and high school and college dating led to marriage in that era. Sam was cute, considerate and clearly leading the way on our life-bicycle built for two .

Completing nurses training at Good Samaritan Hospital in Portland the previous year, I debated whether to complete my nursing bachelor’s degree in either Los Angeles, where my best friend from high school was living, or the University of Washington, considered the number one school for nursing in America. On one of my weekly calls home, Mom explained, “Grandpa told me not to let you go to Los Angeles, the boys there are too bold and wear jeans!” Look, Sam is wearing Docker pants from JC Penny’s and his shirt is tucked in. I found out later, Grandpa was more than pleased.

Suzy Suzuki was one of my first acquaintances in Seattle and she was dating Roy Kido, who was from my home town area of Eastern Oregon, She planned this get away picnic with a group of us from Seattle and invited Sam and me to ride with them. Roy must have taken this picture of us. Sam never smiled much for pictures, but we are clearly delighted to be together. 

I remember wanting Sam to ask me to go steady, but it was not proper to be forward about it. A month later, Sam decided to go home to Quincy, Washington, where his parents lived, to go pheasant hunting. I had cousins farming in Quincy, so I decided to go with him. My sister-in-law, who introduced us because we were taking an evening Japanese Language class together, found out about our plans and felt it was improper for us to go somewhere together over night. 

Since Sam was going to be gone and he hadn’t asked me to go steady, I made plans to attend a party with his younger brother, who was my car ride to classes at the U of Washington that Fall. Saturday evening, Sam came to my apartment and didn’t leave and didn’t leave. I called my ride to the party to say I couldn’t go to the party. Sam finally left after midnight. He never did ask me to go steady!

Enrolled in the Public Health Nursing program, I was studying at Sam’s 1438 Medical Dental Building office one evening when he mentioned, “I was born on Friday, the 13th.” The Seattle phone book that year had calendars back to early 1900. I found that January was the month holding a 13th on a Friday in 1933. 

I immediately shared, “My birthday is January 14th!” 

We smiled and silently agreed, “Maybe we were meant to be together.”

Sam was born on the 13th and left us on the 31st. When he passed on New Year’s Eve in December 2017, the most fulfilling, heart healing condolence for me, read: “He adored you.”

Life rides on as I navigate on my bicycle built for one, leaving our OMOIDE (remembrances) legacy for future generations.

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Kirin Home from Yucatan

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High School Abroad in Merida... High School Abroad in Merida, Mexico, for the last month.
What an experience! Yucatan and learning about the Mayan Culture was also one of Grandpa Sam's favorite trips.

Kirin says, "I learned about the 'privilege of death' in their culture. How there is this contest and the winner gets the privilege of being put to death. Also, how small they are. I kid you not, there was this lady and she just came up to my arm pits.

The whole thing is like a dream. I'm so lucky to have my life!"

What a contrast of the Mayan stature of the smallness compared to my last post of football bound sized Josh?!

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SeaHawk Football Camp

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Joshua Durst, visiting Joshua Durst, visiting
Josh is 6 foot 5 inches tall and likely headed for being recruited for football. He just completed his freshman year of high school in Santa Cruz, CA.  His grandma paid for him to attend the SeaHawk Football Camp and is staying with us because his mom, Leigh, and my daughter, Kelly, have been besties from way before he was born. 

Josh is the sweetest kid we know, with strong Christian values. It is fun to have him around and will be a "huge" contributor to society!

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FROM HIROSHIMA TO HOPE AUG 6TH = MARY FUJITA STORY

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Story from one of the early o... Story from one of the early organizers of
HIROSHIMA TO HOPE LANTERN FESTIVAL
Each August 6th on Greenlake in Seattle
I'm being asked to read this story at the yearly Lantern floating event. Mary was a distant relative of my mother's family from Hiroshima. It seems that many of the bomb survivors were even stronger because of their exposure?

Mary Fujita celebrated her 100th birthday in 2008. She was energetic, fixing lunches and doing hair for all of us to the end. In 1991, she told me this story about surviving the Hiroshima bomb.

“In 1940, my husband injured his knee and the three of us, including my son Gene, went back to Hiroshima, Japan, to live. We were caught in Japan during WWII. I was living in my uncle’s house, closer to town, so Gene could go to high school. On that fateful day, my husband came on one of his rare visits to town on his motor scooter with vegetables.

I was scared with all the bombing and he offered me a ride to the dentist. I finished my appointment by 8am, near Minen-machi. One bus passed by and I was angry at the inconsiderate driver, but later I saw that bus with everyone on it burned with pain on their faces and dead babies in their arms. It’s a miracle that I’m alive!

The day was warm so I chose to stand by the open door behind the driver instead of taking a seat. The next thing I remember is being outside the bus on the ground. I remember a flash of light and assume I was thrown out through the open door. If the door had been closed, I would have been a ‘porcupine’ with broken glass. When the dust cleared, I could see the whole city. The only buildings remaining were the strong steel framed ones. I kept pinching myself because it got dark and like I was somewhere else. There was no big noise. I couldn’t figure out what was happening. I saw people with frizzy hair and dark faces from the blast. Then, I saw the bridge so I knew I was still in Hiroshima I thought, ‘Oh no, those horses are dead! This is inconceivable!’ Then I really started to get scared.

I couldn’t think of what to do except to run home. I tried to help, but everything was burning. I saw this one old injured lady and tried to help her up and her skin pulled off her arm like a peeled potato. I couldn’t do anything. It took almost two hours to get home and when I got there, I was covered by black rain.

It turned out, my son was safe on the south end of the city at school. Later that week, I went to the part of the city where my husband had gone and found his scooter among the rubble. There were ashes of one tall corpse. My husband was tall. A little farther away I found some teeth that looked perfect but no body. I hope he didn’t suffer long.”

Mary was an active member and promoter of the Survivors of Hiroshima. There was a time when survivors wanted to remain anonymous and would not take advantage of any medical help. If identified, they were afraid their children would be discriminated. I have a first cousin in Kyoto who never told her husband she was in Hiroshima at the time of the bombing because of possible hereditary affects of radiation.

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How Auntie Onions Got Her Name!

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Chiyo "ONIONS" Marooka Nakan... Chiyo "ONIONS" Marooka Nakanishi
During 1942 - 1945 Incarceration
Today, I spent the afternoon playing Shanghai Rummy with 97-yr-old Auntie Chiyo “Onions” Nakanishi. Chiyo and her daughter, Ellen, downsized to the Villagio Apartment complex on Yarrow Bay in Kirkland, Washington, after Uncle Hiro passed in 2020. Chiyo does all the score keeping and wins her share of the games. Between deals, I had a chance to find out more about how she got the name “Onions”.

Chiyo explained,  “My birthday is in May and I turned 16 in camp so it must have been April 1942 that we were taken on buses from where I lived on King street, next to the Nichiren Church to Puyallup. We were in Area C.”

“Were you scared,” I asked?

“There were a bunch of us, so I wasn’t scared, but wondered because the bus windows were all covered.”

“What did you take in your bag? What were you wearing,” I asked.

“We didn’t have much anyway, so I don’t remember. Oh, as I think about it, we had a Toy Fox Terrier name “Junie”.  When we sang, she would sing too. We had to call the Vet and he came to take her away as we were about to leave. That was so sad, I couldn’t worry about what I was taking.

We didn’t wear jeans those days. Wooden clogs were the shoes in style so, I wore that with my skirt and sweater. It turned out that camp grounds were all dusty and muddy so those shoes really came in handy.”

Chiyo went on to explain about her nickname,”I was on my way back home, walking along the road from the Recreation Building. I knew a lot of the guys on the back of the truck as they passed me, driving vegetables to the mess hall. Poison Kato and his brother were some of them. Bako Kinoshita threw one of the onions at me and I caught it. When I threw it back it went through someone’s open barrack window. The  next day they started giving me a bad time about that and started calling me “Onions”. The more I protested, the more the name stuck.”

Nothing like good name calling to make the forced imprisonment bearable. Here’s a bunch of nick names we brainstormed: Tomatoe, Tinky, Gunner, Buster, Beansy, Slug, Lover, Shorty, Gas House, White Christmas. When they meet today, they still use those names.

Yes, Auntie Onions won big time today!! I won the last hand, but I was hundred's of points behind.

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ODORS OF OUR HERITAGE??

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The Aroma of Tacoma The Aroma of Tacoma
Last week, my granddaughter and I went to Uwajimaya Asian Market to choose a hostess gift for her to bring to the Yucatan. She was embarking on a High School abroad experience in Merida, Mexico, for four weeks.

She had Applets and Colette’s from Washington State and decided as a fifth generation of Japanese heritage teenager, to also bring something Japanese. She chose the popular with kids Pocky Sticks (flavored dough on a stick) and Arare (rice crackers coated with soy sauce). I was surprised that Arare was considered, “so very Japanese”. 

Later, in a discussion with my daughter, she explained that although the girls loved Arare, she was hesitant to put Arare into their school lunch boxes and warned the girls, “You are going to have stinky breath, so be aware.”  

That also reminds me, when Sam and I built our new house on Mercer Island 50 years ago, one of our discussions was to not cook any mackerel fish in our new house because, “We don’t want to have that stinky Japanese smell when we have guests.” One of our first guests was Sam’s Medical Dental Building office neighbor, Dr. Wiesel. I think we even considered not cooking too many things with soy sauce the week before he was coming to dinner.

When I was growing up, I heard a lot of conversations between my parents and with grandpa, when we lived in the farming area in Idaho, about the, “stinky, white people’s houses.”  I still remember my best friend Shirley Talkington’s dairy farmer’s house, when I stayed over night. The odor was strong, but it was more important to me to be friends.

Before we moved to Mercer Island we lived on Capitol Hill in Seattle. Our neighbors across the street were Shelly and Paul Pierce. The musical group called the Pierymplezaks was formed in their basement. They became famous in the 1960s for a song about digging for clams called: GOOEY DUCK SONG.  They also sang the song about THE AROMA OF TACOMA. Tacoma was the first residence of the Japanese Consul General before 1900 when the office was moved to Seattle. My Dad and his family lived near Tacoma. Early immigrants had a lot of jokes, among themselves, about the odor in Tacoma and joked about other ethnicities and their odor when they felt discriminated.

Doing research, I am finding, the Japanese are considered some of the most diligent in daily baths and having homes that are easily aired out and in communication with nature. As those of us with Japanese heritage continue to integrate and we are about to host guests, I hear a lot of, “It’s really low class to have a smelly house. Air out the house!!”

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