I was 14 years old in 9th grade when we arrived at Topaz. Our family consisted of my mother and father, my aunt, my older sisters Eiko and Teru, and myself. We came from a wonderful home on Buchanan Street, just up the street from the center of Japantown in San Francisco. My father worked in the import/export business and my mother took care of us. There was a two-year age difference between the three of us sisters; we always had matching dresses and spent time in the summer in Carmel.
My sister Eiko was studying at Cal Berkeley, and my sister Teru and I were in high school when our lives changed forever. We had to leave everything behind. But we had each other and my parents always kept us together, even to eat our meals and sit together in the Topaz mess hall.
Our block was on the end and our room looked out over the desert. My father had friends who helped to build small dividers in our space to provide privacy. He worked in the Topaz administration office, and my mother and aunt worked in the mess hall of the block next to ours. My parents were paid a very small amount of money that they could use to purchase necessities from the Coop Store
I remember staying home from school to run out when the coal truck came to drop the coal at our block, to get as much coal as I could so our family could stay warm. And the horrible dust storms that we could see coming: we put cloth over our faces and stayed inside because the dust came in and made it hard to breathe.
Although there were very hard times, being in high school, I do have memories of being happy. Each block had a rec hall that would hold activities for the young people. I loved sports and I played basketball and softball.
Our girls’ basketball team, the Double Tees, used to play against teams from the outside—places like Hinckley, Payton, and Wasatch. They would bus in to camp to play us. We even had opportunities to be trucked out to play against some teams. Although the other teams were much taller than we were, we were quick and good shooters and always won. (Our record that year was 6-0).
Once, there was going to be an overnight trip to play, but my parents would not let me go to play. The coach even came to our barrack to ask permission, stating he would provide extra supervision; but my parents did not give permission and I missed that game.
Some of the hardest times for me during those years were once we left camp in 1944 to go to New York. I was still in high school. People were very unkind, and it was difficult to go to school when I didn’t know anyone. I will always remember a small group of Puerto Rican girls who asked me to eat lunch with them. We became good friends, my first friends in New York.
I returned to California after I married and my husband was offered a job at the University of California, Davis. Now I am 95 years old and live with my children in Southern California. But I continued to attend my Class of ‘45 Topaz High Reunions, as long as there were classmates around to organize and attend them.
I still have my high school yearbook, and it was signed by my classmates with memories and nicknames, reminding me that everyone—friends, coaches, my parents—tried to make things feel normal for us, as if we were typical teens in a peaceful world. It’s a testament to their effort that one of my most enduring memories of Topaz is of our winning season.
About the contributor: Mitsi (Mitsuko) Nakamizo Fuchigami was born in San Francisco in 1928. Her father worked in the import/export business and the family lived on Buchanan St. until the forced removal. She, her parents and two older sisters were incarcerated in Tanforan, then Topaz, where Mitsi played on the girls’ basketball team. The family left Topaz and resettled in New York in 1944. Mitsi returned to California after marrying, and currently lives in Southern California.
© 2024, Mitsi Nakamizo Fuchigami. All rights reserved.