Nisei Soldiers Break Their Silence: Coming Home to Hood River

13. “Time Is a Good Healer” : Rebuilding

1 9 0 Th i r t e e n “Time Is a Good Healer” Rebuilding S everal months after the war’s end, a young upper-valley Nisei’s good intentions came to a sputtering halt. Eager to see former white classmates, the younger brother of Mam Noji hosted a reunion at his parents’ home. To his chagrin, only one couple arrived, and there was no word—not even a phone call—from the others. “The experience turned me sour to our happy return,” Toru Noji lamented, adding that there were plenty of homemade refreshments left.1 For him and others, the personal pain from war seemed as wrenching as the physical scars and wounds their GI siblings endured. It did underscore, however, the heights they would need to scale if they were to leave behind the depths of their wartime disruption. Proving Themselves “Being veterans gave us good backbone,” offered Mam Noji. “The healing process began as soon as we returned from war.” Earnest about rebuilding their lives in an unwelcoming, often hostile, hometown milieu, local Nikkei strived to reestablish themselves economically, socially, and politically . Developing their own sensitized antennae and defensive armor, they steeled themselves against rejection and kept low profiles. Their own selfreliance and citizenship, the personal relationships they nurtured, and their gradual community involvement proved to be important assets. Ever R e b u i l d i n g 1 9 1 so slowly, if unconsciously, they took minute steps toward reclaiming their stake in the valley—one pace forward, a stride back, another half-step ahead—fending off challenges that trumped them at home and from their state government. First, however, hard work was the critical antidote. “We stayed home most of the time and worked,” admitted Harry Tamura. “When we had to buy things, we bought where they would accept us.” His wife, Chiz, described their goal: “You want to raise good fruit and have a good reputation , right?” Shig Imai rationalized this necessary Nikkei lifestyle: “Out here in the country, why, you can work hard all day and go to bed and go to sleep and get up and do it again the next day.” A strong work ethic was a must, for their livelihood was tied to their farms’ productivity. After the war, their trustworthiness was just as critical. “We had to do something to turn this notion that we were second-grade citizens,” asserted Sagie Nishioka. “They didn’t trust us,” added George Akiyama. “We had to prove that we were good citizens and loyal Americans.” Mam Noji insisted, “We were law-abiding people. We were a quiet people.” He recalled a compliment from the local sheriff: “The only problem I had with you people was one or two of you would be driving down the road too fast.” The sheriff made this public statement to the Mid-Columbia Japanese American Citizens League, which Noji served as the first postwar president in 1946.2 These “good citizens and loyal Americans” remained devoted to those who supported and defended them. In February 1946, they hosted a farewell party for Clyde Linville and other WRA personnel who had aided them. They also avidly supported Reverend Sherman Burgoyne, who led the campaign to reinstate the names of Nisei GIs on the county honor roll. In 1947, Reverend Burgoyne was named a recipient of the Thomas Jefferson Award for advancing democracy, along with Eleanor Roosevelt, Frank Sinatra, and others. Selected from a pool of 1,500 civic, religious, and educational organizations and 500 newspaper editors across the country, honorees were to be feted in New York by the Council against Intolerance in America. “We all felt we had a responsibility to make sure they got there,” commented Noji. With proceeds from fund-raisers, the local JACL bought a set of luggage, train tickets, and hotel reservations and presented these purchases along with expense money to the couple.3 Once the pastor returned home, there was disappointing news. He would be reassigned from Hood River’s congregation of 450 to a tiny church 1 9 2 C h a p t e r Th i r t e e n of 89 in Shedd, Oregon (although two Washington State church administrators interceded and transferred him to Spokane). In “No Reward for Valor,” Richard L. Neuberger (then a New York Times correspondent and later a U.S. senator) praised the “defender of the...