(Part 1) by Iso Minamoto Umeki
Papa-san came to America from Japan in the early 1900s, to the land of promises, money, and sunshine. He had read about all the great opportunities. Because the country of his birth was so small–yet so overpopulated–many young men found it necessary to leave and to make a living elsewhere. Papa-san was no exception. The trip by boat across the vast Pacific took over 20 days.
In 1914, after working hard at various jobs, Papa-san realized his dream of sending for a picture bride. It was not unusual for Issei men (first generation Japanese in America) to choose a bride–a complete stranger–by picture. Of course, relatives or close friends first checked that person and her family background carefully: health, education, finances, etc., for the best possible match.
Tall, handsome, Papa-san chose an attractive and petite girl, Tokio. She was 16 and he was 31. Their life together was a struggle in this vast, strange country. The English language was a definite handicap, prejudice harshly prevailed, and labor was exceedingly cheap. But, a Yamato-damashi (do or die) spirit of patience, tolerance, and a quiet sense of humor saw them through the difficult years.
After many small jobs, Papa-san took his first big step–operating his own business–a laundry. He washed clothes by hand and delivered them by bicycle while Mama-san ironed by hand all day. Three of us were born during this period at two-year intervals. We were delivered by a midwife, which was a customary practice in those days, and Mama-san would be up in a couple of days, back at her ironing. She carried the new baby by tying it to her back, a custom in Japan and other countries.
I was brought into the world on May 3, 1919, a healthy baby. Mama-san had survived a horrible flu epidemic a few months before that in which many lives were lost.
When I was about five, our folks decided to move to the country, for they had an opportunity to try another kind of business–a general country store. By this time, they had saved enough to buy a Model T Ford. When we were ready to leave Oakland, Papas-san sat proudly in the driver’s seat with Mama-san beside him. My older brother, Toshi, my sister, Yuki, and I squeezed into the backseat, which was piled high with belongings.