March/April 2012

Grandmother Rose seemed to bubble with joy Anna Nakagawa loved going to her grandparents’ house. The house was large, with lots of room inside and out. There was a room full of books, a grand piano, a room with a huge TV, and even a room of her very own, where she stayed every time she came over. And of course her grandparents were wonderful. With her being the only girl grandchild, they treated her like a princess. So once a month she stayed at their house for a day or two. Today was the Monday of spring break. She was going to spend a leisurely week here, doing nothing. There was a small downside to staying with her grandparents. Whenever Anna came over, she had to visit her great-grandmother, Rose. She did love her grandmother, but Anna always felt awkward and uncomfortable around her. It also was kind of depressing to see her now, since she often had medical problems and sometimes forgot things. *          *          * “We’re here!” Grandma said as they drove into the garage. Anna popped out of the car, grabbed her suitcase, and ran in. “We should visit Grandmother Rose before lunch,” Grandma suggested, after Anna was settled. “Do we have to go right now?” asked Anna, wanting to relax and read. “Anna, there will be plenty of time to relax later. Besides, Grandmother Rose just moved to a new nursing home. It would really cheer her up if you visited her.” “Oh, all right,” Anna sighed. She grabbed the first book in her suitcase and headed back out the door. Anna glanced at the book she brought as they drove to the nursing home. The book was called A Brief History of World War II. Anna had already started it, and it was very interesting. There were tales of bravery in Europe, in Africa, in the Pacific, and even in America. Stories of prisoners of war, submarine captains, army nurses, air force captains, Jewish refugees, and patriotic children on the home front all were in this book. “Here we are!” Grandma said, interrupting her thoughts. The nursing home was big and open. Anna and Grandma signed their names in the guest book and then hurried down halls filled with nurses, elderly people, and guests. They stopped in front of room 302, which had a sign that said EMILY ROSE SEO in gold letters. Grandma knocked on the door. “Come in,” said a frail, yet loud and confident voice. Inside, Grandmother Rose was sitting at the kitchen table, eating grapes and doing a puzzle of a cat by a pond. “Hello, Anna dear! Hello, Mary! How are you two today? Sit down! Would you like some grapes? Or perhaps some water?” Grandmother Rose seemed to bubble with joy. “I’ll have a few grapes,” Anna meekly responded, sitting down on a rocking chair by a closet and a bed. She set her book on a small side table. Grandma sat down at the kitchen table. “That’s a nice puzzle, Rose. Where did you get it?” Grandma asked. “My sister Louisa sent it. We used to do puzzles together when I was little.” There were a few moments of silence while Grandmother Rose worked on the puzzle and Grandma checked the small refrigerator. Finally, Grandma spoke. “Why don’t you two stay here while I talk to the nurse about your medication.” An odd silence followed as both women looked at the girl, waiting for an answer. “All right,” Anna finally responded. Grandma knew Anna was very uncomfortable, but she thought leaving the two alone would do them good. *          *          * After Grandma left, Anna walked over to the tall bookcase, lined with photos, postcards, trinkets, maps, ancient books, and a quaint collection of spoons. Anna looked at them all, but she was especially drawn to one black-and-white photo. The photo was of a girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, with a cheerful expression, but you could see that she was tired and worn out. Her eyes were dark with a sort of mysterious air, but the happy expression overpowered them. She had very curly black hair and wore a long coat with a skirt that barely stuck out underneath. The girl had large boots on, which was fitting since the ground looked very muddy, and she stood next to a long, shed-like building. The background resembled some sort of farm. The photo was turning brown with age, and the frame looked as old as the photo. “Yes, that’s me, when I was twelve years old” Anna studied the photo a long time and then asked, “Is that you?” Rose smiled. “Yes, that’s me, when I was twelve years old.” “Are you at a farm or something?” “No, that’s at Camp Minidoka.” “Where’s that?” “Minidoka was one of the camps where they interned Japanese Americans. It’s in Idaho.” “Oh.” Anna really had no idea what she was talking about, but she kept quiet. After a few quiet minutes she asked, “Why were you there?” “Do you mean you’ve never heard of the internment of the Japanese Americans during World War II? Isn’t it even mentioned in that book you have?” “Oh yeah, once my mom told me you went to some prison camp.” “Well, would you like to hear about it?” “Uh, sure, I guess.” “Well, Anna, it’s a long story. My father was a Nisei, but my mother was an Issei. They met in Portland, married in Portland, and settled in Portland.” “What’s a Nee-say, and what’s an Eesay?” Anna asked, curiously. “An Issei is someone who was born in Japan but has immigrated to America. A Nisei is the child of an Issei, an American citizen. We were pretty well-to-do. Nisei were generally treated better than Issei, since they were thought to be more ‘American.’ Issei weren’t able to become citizens or own land, so even though my mom had come to America at age four, she did not have very many rights. Still, we