Mizuko: True Spirit

By Art Nomura

"Mizuko: True Spirit" is an epic American-immigrant tale of hardship, assimilation, and the eventual triumph that ensued. When the Takahashi's, one of the wealthiest families in western Japan lost their great fortune in 1900, five-year old Mizuko Takahashi went from riches to rags.

Mizuko's lifetime in Japan and America offers the reader an intimate look into the world of an Asian immigrant. This book is the story of one woman's efforts to surmount racism, sexism, and poverty in the 20th century.
Featured is a riveting accounting of the matriarch's life in Manzanar Concentration Camp for three years beginning in 1942.

"Mizuko: True Spirit" is required reading for anyone who needs/wants a fuller understanding of the history of minority women in America, the reality of immigrant life, and the unjust incarceration of Japanese people in America during World War II. Family genealogists will be inspired by the detailed descriptions of her and her family in this multi-generational saga. Written in an accessible style for everyone 12 and older, Mizuko's sixty-five years in America presents a rousing and historically important piece of America's past.

This book is of interest to those interested in the following: History, Immigration and Immigrant Lives, Women's Issues, Biography, Racism, WWII American Internment Camps, Japanese American History.

The book is divided into four parts or 'seasons'.

'Spring' describes Mizuko's birth in Japan (in 1895) and voyage to America in 1911. 'Summer' recounts Mizuko's married and widowed life in America from 1911 to 1941.
'Fall' finds Mizuko taken prisoner and details her life in Manzanar Concentration Camp during WWII.
'Winter' finishes the story, spanning from 1945 until Mizuko's death in 1986.
Learn of the Japanese celebration of Girl's Day, what it was like to work as a man on the Pacific railways in the early 1900s, and how a 'Loyalty Oath' in Manzanar threatened to split incarcerated Japanese families apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667849188

Book preview

Chapter 1

1895–Birthday

Open the window a bit, the midwife requested. We all need some fresh air before continuing. The youngest maid in the stuffy room quickly rose and slid open a small window. Gathered in the oldest bedroom of the manor, Tona Hase Takahashi, age twenty-nine, sat stoically while catching her breath. Around her the maidservants, her mother-in-law, and the midwife awaited Tona’s next contraction. The cool outdoor air gently wafted into the space, steadily replacing the stale air within.

Tona, ever sensitive to circumstance and precedence, had insisted on giving birth in the tight quarters of the small bedroom at the back of the house rather than the spacious master bedroom she and her husband Kichinosuke shared. After all, Kichinosuke and his father Naotaro, as well as Tona’s three older children all had been successfully delivered in the undersized room. Each had been born without any problems. In her opinion, it would have been tempting fate to change the location for this latest birth.

After three uncomplicated and routine deliveries, Tona fully expected the birth of her fourth child to be similar. But after a night of painful and prolonged labor it seemed that her baby was no closer to being born than when her contractions had started.

Another attendant gently sponged Tona’s perspiring brow with a damp cloth. Tona’s offered a grateful smile then prepared for the next onslaught.

Sato, the midwife, who had been carefully running her hands along Tona’s belly, looked up expectantly.

Before we resume, please lean back for a moment and let’s see what’s happening, said the midwife who had assisted in all of Tona’s previous deliveries.

Tona tilted back from the squatting position she had gamely maintained throughout the night and leaned into the comforting arms of Kyoko, her kind and able mother-in-law.

Tona’s most trusted maidservants, kneeled back on their heels to rest. Sato abruptly sat back after examining Tona.

Your child’s birth is imminent.

Everyone. Please return to your places. Help Tona-sama get back into position.

Tona legs trembled as she resumed squatting over the sterile blanket that Sato had placed beneath her. The maids steadied Tona by her arms as the contraction began. Kyoko scooted forward and positioned her hands on Tona’s back so that she would have more leverage with which to push down.

Now, PUSH! Sato ordered.

Abandoning the silent countenance that she had maintained for hours, Tona let loose with a guttural wail halfway between a shriek and a groan.

EEEEEYEEH!!!

It’s coming, keep pushing. That’s right. Keep pushing. It’s almost there. Aha! I can see it.

Moving quickly with deft, sure movements, the midwife supported the infant’s head and shoulders as they emerged. In just seconds, the rest of the baby’s body slid onto Sato’s waiting hands.

Tona, exhausted and relieved, leaned back against Kyoko and watched the midwife methodically wipe the newborn clean with sterile rags and wrap the child in a clean white blanket.

Congratulations Tona-sama, you have a beautiful baby girl, Sato beamed, handing the precious bundle to her mother.

On this same spring day, below the clouds of cherry blossoms adorning ancient trees, three gentlemen were engaged in a spirited discussion. There was a respectful distance maintained by other blossom watchers from them, as the trio’s expensive clothing and regal bearing identified them as members of the ruling class.

And what of Basho? one asked.

His time has come and gone, suggested one of his seated companions.

It is true that his poetry has been quoted and recited countless times, agreed the third man.

"But the fact that it has stood the test of time and is still with us is a validation of its worth. He paused, then thoughtfully issued a challenge.

"I am willing to wager that each of you has a personal favorite among his many haiku about flowers."

The first man nodded appreciatively, then spoke theatrically.

mountain-rose petals

falling, falling, falling

now waterfall music

As if on cue the light sea breeze that had been tousling their robes all afternoon loosened a shower of pale pink petals down on the three men. Their delighted laughter broke the serenity of the afternoon.

The second man brushing the petals out of his hair, sat up. A splendid choice! Forgive me if this one is perhaps a bit too serious,

how many, many things

they call to mind

these cherry-blossoms

The third man turned to the others with his eyes shining from the pleasure of the moment. "I’m afraid I must leave your esteemed company soon as the afternoon shadows grow long. But please, let us not allow so much time to elapse before we enjoy each other’s company again.

a lovely spring day suddenly

vanished

while we viewed cherry blossoms

The others nodded and clapped deferentially.

"Kichinosuke-sama, you have bested us yet again. Your mastery of haiku is truly laudable," one bowed.

When will we learn not to compete against you, the other fawned.

The three grasped each other’s forearms in studied shows of affection, then bowed before striding off in separate directions.

Kichinosuke Takahashi, commanded the Takahashi estate in Onorimura. The Takahashi landhold began over three hundred years prior when his ancestors first arrived in the area from Kyoto. Onorimura proper was a small coastal village about forty miles east-south-east from the center of Hiroshima City, the prefectural capital. Tenant farmers and sharecroppers toiling on the Takahashi’s land provided a steady and abundant income.

Several blossom viewers bowed low in deference as Kichinosuke left the cherry grove. Knowing that he would encounter many of the local citizenry if he walked through central Onorimura, he chose instead a pathway that skirted the periphery of the village. Nonetheless, he still needed to stop to greet a contemporary and felt obligated to offer an appreciative nod when several peasant farmers fell to their knees and bowed deeply as he approached.

The warmth of the afternoon ebbed as he wended his way up the private path to the promontory overlooking Onorimura and the sea. His face lit with pride as the Takahashi manor atop the bluff came into view. He never failed to marvel at the grandeur of the family home. At the crest of the path he paused to catch his breath and take in the vista around him. Aside from the islands that dotted the Seto-Naikai, Inland Sea to the south, the arable land in every direction belonged to him, the scion of the Takahashi family.

Admittedly, April 23, 1895 was glorious, the first sunny day in Hiroshima-ken after weeks of cloudy skies and rain. The nearby ocean shimmered as if covered by glittery green sequins.

Kichinosuke Takahashi strode to the grand entrance to his mansion a study in manly good cheer.

"Shoya-sama, it’s a girl."

In an instant, Kichinosuke Takahashi’s smile disappeared.

Another girl! The premonition that had haunted him for months had come to pass. What a bitter pill to swallow! The third daughter in a row after the birth of his one and only son, Katsumi. He drew his hands down slowly over his face while he struggled to regain his composure.

Get control of yourself! You are the shoya, the pride of Onorimura, the head of the Takahashi clan.

But why me? What have I done to deserve yet another daughter? At the age of thirty-five, a man should have the comfort of many sons. Only male heirs can bring honor and prosperity to the family name.

He became aware that his mother, Kyoko Takahashi and the beloved grandmother to his children, was still bowing low, face to the mat in front of him. Containing his displeasure, Kichinosuke finally uttered, "It can’t be helped, shikataganai!"

His mother gracefully stood up from her bow and smiled. She understood without explanation why his response to the birth was so bittersweet. Kichinosuke methodically removed and arranged his wooden geta on the outside steps and stepped into the sheltered entryway.

Suddenly, the sliding door separating the genkan from the hallway flew open with a bang and eight-year old Katsumi, ran in.

"Otoosan, father, I have a new sister! he said breathlessly. She’s all pink and wrinkled, more like an old woman, or a monkey, than a baby! And so little!" he added.

The midwife let me hold her, she weighed less than the cat, he reported happily. I’m going back to see what’s going to happen next.

Before anyone could respond, Katsumi was gone, leaving his father, grandmother, and an abashed manservant in his wake.

I apologize for his rude behavior, sir, said the manservant, removing his master’s outdoor robe and deftly replacing it with a silk housecoat.

The young master has been very taken by the arrival of the baby. The servant bowed and gracefully backed out of the genkan, silently closing the door behind him.

Buoyed by this son’s energy, Kichinosuke addressed his mother with renewed composure.

"And how is Tona-san?"

Your wife has survived the birth well, and she has already nursed the baby, Kyoko obaasan exclaimed. Kichinosuke grunted an acknowledgement as he headed toward his study.

Your new daughter is big and robust, she added, and cries with great vigor. And with your permission and approval, I feel I have already discovered the perfect name for her.

Kichinosuke stopped in mid-stride and allowed his mother close. And what might that be? he asked with unveiled curiosity.

"Mizuko. Which means True Spirit," Kyoko offered.

The manner in which this baby has weathered a difficult pregnancy and emerged healthy and strong makes me feel that she will have the ability to overcome every challenge set before her.

Kyoko lifted her hands and arranged them to face towards her son. Onto the palm of her left hand, she etched out with her right index finger the kanji for Mizuko.

Kichinosuke considered the character for a moment, then slowly nodded his head in agreement.

Then so shall it be!

Chapter 2

Mizuko at Five

What do you think of this one?" asked eight-year old Sanae airily, turning slowly around with arms outstretched in the spacious parlor of their home.

It’s pretty, but I’m not sure if I like it more than the one with the cherry blossoms, answered her serious eleven-year old neechan, eldest sister Ayano.

The tiny butterflies woven into the pattern of her brightly colored kimono seemed to flutter their wings as Sanae moved.

What do YOU think? Sanae asked Ono-san, the professional kimono dresser who had been brought in to help them put on the clothing properly.

Ah, they are both quite pretty, she said neutrally.

As her sisters’ conversation trailed off behind her, five-year old Mizuko Takahashi quietly crept away from the house on a beeline toward the family’s garden. She hated being cooped up inside on a sunny day, especially with the obsequious kimono dresser and her cloying remarks.

The two eldest Takahashi sisters had been trying on various kimono all morning in preparation for the Girls’s Day Doll Festival on the 3rd of March, which was just a few days away. Hinamatsuri would be the long-awaited party for all the girls in the family and their closest friends. Everyone would gather to eat sweets, view the family’s ornate and antique seven-shelf display, and admire the new garments the girls would wear.

The Takahashi hinamatsuri display was renown throughout the region for the intricate detail of its dolls and their elaborate costumes. They included models of the Imperial family, their ladies in waiting, musicians, ministers, servants and the palace furnishings. It was proudly shown starting on March 3rd of every year. Kichinosuke’s grandfather, Naotaro Takahashi, had been the first person in Onorimura to obtain such a display in the early 1800s.

It sat in a place of honor in the Great Room opposite the doors to the outside deck. Every year it emerged from protective storage a fortnight before Girl’s Day. Immaculately dusted and polished, the red lacquered seven-shelf open display looked like a miniature stairway nearly five feet tall. Generations old, the girls knew to admire it only from afar, and that the miniature models and figures sitting on each shelf were not to be played with. The figures were costumed in the finest silks and brocades and sparked fantasies of court life filled with music and ceremony. The girls all noted that the Empress sat on the same uppermost tier as the Emperor and wore clothing of comparable splendor.

At the root of the festivities was the wish of favorable marriages for the girls of the family as they came of age. The hinamatsuri display and its attendant festivities were believed to aid in achieving this goal. With four daughters in the family, the festival was considered of prime importance to the Takahashi clan. It was also the one time of the year where the girls would be guaranteed the center of attention from visitors and family alike. Therefore, the sisters looked forward to it with great eagerness.

I think that the cherry blossom design is more suitable for a much younger girl, announced the precocious Sanae looking at the various kimono patterns. Someone like Tomoye, for instance.

Two and a half year-old Tomoye, sitting on the lap of her nanny, looked up at the mention of her name. When nothing further ensued, the youngest daughter of the Takahashi family returned her attention to the bowl of sembei rice crackers sitting in front of her.

Grandmother Kyoko obaasan, sitting in the diffused light by the window, looked up from her sewing when her daughterin-law swept into the room. Dressed in an elegant dressing gown Mother Tona was the picture of refinement. But after observing her daughters for a moment, a wrinkle of concern appeared on her normally flawless brow.

Ay-chan, Sanae-chan, your kimonos are lovely, but where is Mizuko? she asked. "Your sister needs to participate if she is going to have a new kimono for the celebration. Ayano turned to her mother.

"Okaasan, I called her twice, but she must have gone outside."

She doesn’t care what she wears anyway, Sanae murmured. Tona gave her middle daughter a reproving look.

Well, she doesn’t, said Sanae as the dresser, seemingly oblivious to the conversation, adjusted the drape of the kimono over the girl’s shoulders.

Kindness is a virtue, Tona said firmly. You and Ayano must think of more than just your own happiness. Could you please find Mizuko and ask her to join you?

Big sister Ayano gave Sanae a warning glance as they turned to face their mother. "Yes, okaasan," they said in unison, bowing to their mother’s departing figure.

Outside, on the far side of the sprawling Takahashi garden, Goro, the senior family gardener and handyman, was meticulously grooming the velvety moss at the edge of the meandering koi pond. Around the extensive Japanese garden and a pond magnificent enough to support a small island and a pole-driven boat, other workers pruned and tended to the countless trees and shrubs.

The early spring air was still cool, but the sun on Goro’s back was pleasant and the work not difficult. Less than an arm’s length away, the gardener’s dog Nao, a Shiba inu, lay basking in the precious sunlight. Beside them, five-year old Mizuko crouched, her strong nimble fingers plucking dried twigs and leaves from the blanket of bright green moss at their feet and placing them in the wicker basket next to her. Several immense, ancient koi poked their snouts above the nearby mirror-like pond surface as if critiquing then approving her work.

The old gardener smiled at the intensity of the girl beside him. Hey, slow down. This isn’t a race. There will always be more work to do. He paused for a moment, then said. Work is a constant. It is fundamental to life.

I like to work, Mizuko said looking up, and being outside in the garden in the sun is so much better than being stuck in the house.

Nao stretched luxuriously and crept over as if to watch Mizuko more closely.

He likes you, Goro said as he drew a minute collection of detritus out of the moss with his miniature bamboo rake.

I named him Nao because he can always tell who is honest like he is.

Mizuko smiled and gave the dog a quick scratch behind his ears. I like him too, she declared. Nao yawned hugely and gave Mizuko what looked like a smile.

See, said Goro. They both laughed as the dog widened his smile then sat gracefully beside her.

Mizuko picked up the basket with the leafy litter. I’ll dump this on the leaf pile, she said.

MI-ZU-KOOO!! Ayano’s and Sanae’s voices sang out in unison in the cool morning air.

"Soka, your sisters are both calling for you," said Goro.

"I know what it is. They’re trying on new kimono for the Doll Festival party. They’ve been in there all morning trying on kimono after kimono. All they do is argue about this kimono and that obi, and talk, talk, talk!" Mizuko exclaimed.

"I believe that many girls do not receive a special new kimono for hinamatsuri," said Goro gently.

Mizuko recognized immediately how overly important she had sounded and gave Goro a quick nod. She set down the basket then asked, Can I help you tomorrow?

Goro’s eyes twinkled as he nodded. There is always work to do.

Kyoko obaasan couldn’t help but smile as Mizuko quietly slid open the shoji screen and stepped onto the tatami matted room.

MI-ZU, squealed little Tomoye, as she jumped up and down in the lap of her nanny. Mizuko extended her arms to her sister and lifted the toddler into an embrace. Tomoye laughed with delight as Mizuko spun her around.

Not too much excitement, Mizu-chan. It’s almost time for her nap, Kyoko obasaan said mildly.

Mizuko gave Tomoye a parting hug and handed her back to her nanny, who adroitly lifted the squirming child to her shoulder, bowed to Kyoko obaasan, and left the room.

Why is this girl so special to me? Kyoko obaasan mused as she gazed at her granddaughter. Was I ever so graceful, strong, and naturally funny? And so tall! At five and three-quarters years old, Mizuko was as tall as her sister Sanae, almost three years her senior. While Sanae had a very pretty face, she was also as plump and soft as a freshly made mochi. Mizuko was slender and sinewy. It was sometimes hard to believe that they were even sisters.

"Tadaima," Mizuko said, bowing to her grandmother.

"Okaeri," Kyoko-obaasan smiled, What have you been doing?

I’ve been helping Goro-san in the garden, said Mizuko kneeling beside her. And Nao licked my hand! she beamed.

How disgusting, I hope you washed your hands thoroughly, an eavesdropping Sanae called from across the room.

Yes, of course I did, Mizuko said without looking at Sanae. "Obaachan, what are you making?" she asked, her eyes honing in on the sewing in her grandmother’s lap.

"I’ve been saving these colorful remnants from when your mother had her new spring kimono made and fashioning them into a new obi for one of you."

"It’s beautiful, obaachan," said Mizuko examining the intricate pattern her grandmother had constructed.

Kyoko-obaasan knew that Mizuko could already handle a needle and thread with great dexterity. She handed the unfinished obi and a deep purple piece of silk fabric to her granddaughter.

Could you add this next section to the border?

"Uh," Mizuko nodded, taking the sewing as she positioned herself comfortably next to her grandmother.

I thought that she was supposed to be trying on kimono! whined Sanae, hands on hips.

After giving Sanae a stern look, Kyoko-obaasan replied. Thank you for your concern, Sanae. Mizuko will be next after your fitting is complete.

When her turn finally arrived, much to Sanae’s chagrin, Mizuko choose the first kimono she tried on.

Later, as dinner was being served, Katsumi, Mizuko’s only brother, strode into the dining room.

I won! he shouted.

Kichinosuke beamed at his son and said, Sit down to eat and you can tell us all about it.

Katsumi quickly sat down next to his father. As always, the servers placed food before the father and son first, followed by Kyoko-obaasan, the children, then finally, Tona.

After the serving process was complete and the servers had stepped back from the table, Katsumi’s mother Tona, Kyoko-obaasan, his sisters, and the nanny all looked at him in eager anticipation.

Kichinosuke said. "Katsumi-kun, please tell us what has happened."

Katsumi gulped down a mouthful of rice, sat up, then proudly announced, "Yamada sensei told me that I will be representing the dojo in the regional kendo competition this month!"

Kichinosuke smiled. "That is excellent news. You must do your best to represent the dojo with honor -- and the Takahashi name."

Kichinosuke was not in the least surprised at his son’s announcement. Rather than pursue the scholarly path his father and grandfather had followed, Katsumi reveled in his physicality. At fourteen, he was athletic and tremendously strong. He was also one of the tallest boys in the region, nearly six feet tall and still growing.

As the rest of the family asked questions and heaped congratulations on Katsumi, Mizuko smiled happily. She adored her big brother. He understood and naturally accepted what it meant to stand out. He didn’t let his extraordinary physical attributes hinder him in any way.

She tried to emulate his confidence but being a tall girl didn’t seem to have the same cachet as being a tall boy. That her brother mostly ignored her wasn’t an issue. After all, he was a boy and she was a girl.

Chapter 3

A Change of Fortune

For over a fortnight, a dark cloud hovered over the Takahashi manor.

Mizuko and her siblings fretted as a stream of visitors arrived at all hours of the day and night. Produce brokers, local merchants, regional officials, and the Takahashi bookkeepers, along with mysterious groups of grim strangers wearing black Western business