Kiyo’s Story

by Ruth Sasaki

In Topaz, the Takahashi family was assigned to two “apartments” in Block 4. Jichan, my grandfather; Bachan, my grandmother; Kiyo; Tomi, my mother; and Edwin, the youngest, shared one room. Yonezo, Jichan’s younger brother, his son, Kaz; Eddie Oda, an orphan informally adopted by my grandparents; and Yokoyama-san, a family friend, shared the other. Kiyo’s other brother Shig was a UC Berkeley student who had managed to transfer to Ohio University to continue his education. 

The “apartments” were basically bare rooms, 20’ by 20’ and 20’ by 24’, with a pot-bellied stove and cots. Needless to say, conditions were cramped and privacy was non-existent.

Kiyo found employment, for $19 a month, the highest pay rate available to internees, as a medical records librarian at the Topaz Hospital. Tomi, with a degree in Education from UC Berkeley, helped organize the camp preschool system and eventually became its director. Edwin was only thirteen, so he attended school. Much time each day was spent waiting in line: for meals, for showers. 

Although the Takahashis had lived in Japantown before the war, the conditions in Topaz were extreme: over 8,000 Japanese Americans were crammed together in less than one square mile of living space.¹ Some acquaintances might be housed in nearby barracks, but many neighbors were strangers. Everybody knew everyone else’s business; or if they didn’t, then they wanted to find out. And even if they didn’t want to know, they couldn’t help but overhear “private” conversations, arguments, and activities.

Kiyo, at 29 years of age, found herself the object of much marital speculation, with Issei (first generation) mothers with suddenly too much time on their hands trying to matchmake for their single sons. Tomi was also of marriage age at 23, but was somewhat shielded by birth order; Kiyo as the eldest was supposed to marry first. The need for escape was often overwhelming.