The End and the Beginning

by Jon Yatabe

The relocation camps were emptying by the beginning of 1945¹. A few individual families had left earlier, like my Uncle Tom’s. He, Aunt Mary, and Dudley went to Chicago in 1944 so Uncle Tom could restart his dentistry practice and work to organize the JACL. Chiura Obata and his family relocated to St. Louis. Uncle Muck and Aunt Margaret went to Cleveland, Ohio to work for an engineering firm in the winter of that year. Uncle Walt and Aunt Mary went to Reno to work for an old silver mining family in the beginning of 1945. Relocation had scattered the Japanese across America to places they had never been. Now leaving the camps, we spread even further across the country. 

The saddest part of the emptying of the camp was that some people had nowhere to go. They had lost everything, sometimes even family members—like the Kajiwaras, who lost their only son in battle. In camp people were fed, housed, and had an active society to support them. Some did not want to leave; they were afraid to leave and start over. They were the true victims of the “relocation.”

Waiting for my father, Tak, and Uncle Mot to be mustered out of the army, we planned to return to Berkeley with Grandma and Grandpa because they had a home and shoe shop that had been saved through the support of the Bank of Berkeley. Just before we were to leave, my mother had an opportunity to work for Ansel Adams in Yosemite as an administrator. He had taken the Manzanar photographs and now wanted to hire someone from the camps. Unfortunately there would be few job opportunities for my father in Yosemite, so this chance of a lifetime did not pan out. 

Leaving the camps was not at all like arriving at camp when family groups and neighbors went together to the relocation centers. We had helped and cheered each other on. Leaving was by ones and twos, and suddenly the apartment next to our apartment was empty. The Hirotas had come to briefly say goodbye and to leave a small gift. My mother was surprised but had something ready, and the Hirotas left with a hand-knit doily.