That's me up there, on the right. That's how I looked back in the fall of '69 in L.A. My family has lived in the L.A. area for three generations. That makes me sansei. A third generation Japanese American.
My mom passed away a couple years ago. Her death made me reflect back on all of the tales that she told me about growing up on a chicken farm; living in the horse stalls at Santa Anita Race Track; being relocated to Rohwer, Arkansas; meeting my dad in Chicago; their wonderful life together. My dad is 93 now, but still going strong. So, in honor of their lives together, I want to share their stories - my stories - with you.
Participation
When Kazuko-san showed up at our front door, back in the early 1970's, we had absolutely no knowledge of any relatives living in Japan. She explained that she was my father's cousin, and brought along a collection of daguereotypes showing a bunch of stern-looking men, dressed in those broad-shouldered kimono, holding closed fans and sitting on wooden stools - just like in a samurai movie.
My dad had always said, "...we're samurai blood," but until the day I saw those photographs I just thought he was saying that to express his ethnic pride, kinda like the Nisei equivalent of saying, "...say it loud, I'm Black and I'm Proud!" Kazuko-san would later reveal that our kakeizu, or family geneology, dates back to Saga-tenno, the 52nd emperor of Japan (786-842)...! The kanji for our family name translates into, "Ancient Village," and now I understand why: we're older than dirt!
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