JUNE Toshiyuki

“The emotional strain is really something. I don't think people have any conception. We were so afraid, as we were closing the store, that anything with made in Japan signs––that they might just break them.”

June Toshiyuki was married with two little girls when the war broke out in 1941. Living in Fresno at the time with her husband, Michio, and his parents, the Toshiyukis were sent to the Fresno Assembly Center. The day they arrived, June would suffer an attack of appendicitis, forcing her to have surgery in an outside hospital. Guarded by an M.P. for her entire hospital stay, June in her fragile and recovering state, was sent back to camp in an Army jeep, furthering the illogical and degrading treatment of innocent American citizens. As a young mother of two, June remembers her camp years in Jerome, Arkansas as “the busiest time of her life.” 

This interview was conducted on April 30, 2003 by Grace Megumi Fleming. June passed away in November 2012 at the age of 98. 

Photos/permissions from Lake Sequoia Retreat.

Can you tell me when and where you were born?

I was born on August 27, 1914, in Salinas, California, Monterey County.

Can you paint me a picture of what life was like before Japan bombed Pearl Harbor?

That was in 1941. I was already married to my husband, Michio Toshiyuki, living here in Fresno. It was automatic, he being the eldest of two, that I live with his mother and father.

You were 27 years old. Did you have children?

Well, I had a daughter who was six and a baby that was 16 months old. A baby girl. And at that time, we had already adopted an orphaned cousin of my husband, Satoro Ita. He must have been around 8.

So by 1941, you had already gotten married after meeting Michio.

Uh huh, his parents had a pharmacy. So, they had two pharmacists working for them, then Michio and his younger brother, Lewis, both went to University of California and got their education there.

Did they graduate in pharmacology?

Yes.

Wow. That was a lot of education back then. Okay, so when Pearl Harbor was bombed, you were married into a pharmacy family, and you were raising three children while taking care of your in-laws?

Yes, and you know, the pharmacy was also a Japanese art store. It was within the same building. And my father-in-law said we had the first store to be opened at night. All the stores, they opened during the day and closed in evenings, whereas ours was open until 8:00 pm.

So you had a clientele from the Japanese community as well as the white community?

Right, right. We used to have wonderful customers. They became really interested in Japanese dishes and platters, because you have the store right next to it, in the same building. So, in a sense, we were educating the public about Japanese culture.

Would you say that you were well off, or were you struggling?

I guess we were comfortable, but we were not what you would consider wealthy.

Do you remember the day Pearl Harbor was bombed?

Yes. We heard it. But it just didn't seem real. After reading about it, and seeing it, we were concerned this would affect all the Isseis in this country. Then we were told we would have to leave for an internment camp. We were so worried about the family being broken up. My parents lived in Berkeley, California. So, they were sent to Granada, that's in Colorado. We were sent to Arkansas [Jerome].

So when you heard, your first concern was for your parents' generation. How did you react when you knew it was going to affect the Niseis and Sanseis, too?

That was our biggest concern. As all of this started to happen, nothing made sense. 

The morning we were going to the assembly center, you know, before being sent off to internment camps, we were detained here. And then, I got an attack of appendicitis. So here were two little girls and Sato, and my mother-in-law, who was not a healthy person. And here they were being sent to our assembly center. They kept a doctor, but, you know, my doctor would not allow them to operate on me in camp because the hospital wasn't yet established. 

We had a Japanese doctor that we had always been with, Dr. Hashiba. He said, “We can't do this here. We have to take her to the hospital.” A good doctor friend of Dr. Hashiba picked me up. They kept me in the hospital a week. My husband – they wouldn't allow him to come see me. I had an elderly nurse who took care of Dr. Hashiba's patients at this community hospital, so she took care of me. It gave me a lot of assurance because you had your doubts about what was going to take place. They had an M.P. guarding me in the hallway. Isn't that something? Eight-hour shifts [chuckles]. 

To make sure the “dangerous spy” wouldn't escape, they had someone there. 

When I was released, all the nurses thought I should have an ambulance, but no. The army brought out a Jeep, and there I was rattling around, following surgery. I was so worried I might split––it's all these unknown things. The emotional strain is really something. I don't think people have any conception. We were so afraid, as we were closing the store, that anything with made in Japan signs––that they might just break them. Fortunately, we had a white insurance man who made sure that everything was stored properly. In fact, he even had to re-haul everything to a safer place, because you know, there was vandalism. But when we came back, everything was intact.

Your store was undamaged?

We lost our lease, but an Italian couple who had a pharmacy on another street moved into our building. They had their pharmacy going there. When they heard that we were coming home, they moved back to their old place.

Well, that's considerate.

Wasn't that something? Because not everybody would have that. In our home, a German couple––young couple––we asked them if they would live in our home for us. We didn't want it to be vacant. They kept it beautifully. We were one of the fortunate ones.

Tell me, what was it like to be in the assembly center? You were still trying to care for your in-laws, and your mother-in-law was not well.  

She was a hard patient. For a month or so, we all lived together. We were able to get these apartments. I guess there was one big room. Folks wanted to get the smaller ones for themselves and be close to the block if possible, but until that opened, we were all in this one big room. 

The Japanese people are very, what would you call them? [chuckles] Before we knew it, Ojisan had made partitioning, the sleeping area––a screen. And we made curtains. It wasn't a living area but they had benches, and the children were able to do homework there. It's amazing what you can make do.

Making do is right.

Before too long, you know, there was a nice little hall, where we could have services. The Protestant people and the Buddhist people could have theirs there. 

Making do. I heard that some people asked their friends to send them seeds and immediately people were planting. Do you remember that? 

Yes. They had sweet peas and cosmos. And you, know, before too long there were art classes. And that was the reason you see that there was a Caucasian lady. I think her name was Lillian Baker. I won't swear that the name is correct but she had written, or I think she even did some speaking about, how the Japanese people were so well treated.

During the redress movement, she tried to counteract what people were saying at the congressional hearings by saying that people had fun in camp, that they shouldn't be compensated. There was no apology needed. Some say that she infuriated the Nissei people so much that they spoke up more. 

It's a funny thing. It worked in reverse.

Was she around in Fresno?

She was.

I’m particularly interested in how the Nisei people said, “We're going to try to make life as normal as possible.” Not just in recreation classes, sports, and schools, but also planting seeds. Girls spent their little precious money on flowers.

That's right.

They didn't just think practical. They said, we need beauty too.

They did. I saw to it that the children participated in whatever activities went on.

How about your parents?

They had leisure time. Singing classes. My mother-in-law had gotten to a point though, after we moved to Arkansas, where she was in the hospital, but because we had no hospital beds, Ojiisan and I took turns in [making] the walk. It was almost two miles. 

Do you remember moving from Fresno Assembly Center to Jerome, Arkansas?

We went on a train. The curtains had to be drawn. Probably for safety, I mean, you never know what some of the white people were thinking. Anyway, it was a long trip. I remember that because we tried to take turns walking the children up and down the aisle. That was rough. My biggest concern was my mother-in-law, because we couldn't get oxygen, like we could at home. But she made out alright until we got to Arkansas, then spent most of the time in the hospital, where it was cleaner. In between, when they came into season, we used to go out into the ditch and pick mustard greens. And then I made oshitashi [spinach salad].

Do you remember fresh fruit and vegetables?

I don't. There was a lot of canned food, military food. Because everybody would say, I'm sick and tired of spam.

Some people had tongue in Houston, like cow's tongues, or salted fish, or mutton stew.

Yeah. Mutton stew. In our block there were several men that were cooks.

It seems that the whole concept of shikata ga nai (it can't be helped) is useful under stressful conditions. You must keep adjusting so that you can survive, and at the same time, if you stick with it too long, beyond the stressful time, it starts kicking back at you.

Complacency is the danger of that.

What was your biggest obstacle or challenge?

I think privacy. Having a little baby. You try to keep it from crying, you know, but it's just this one wall, and your neighbor is right there. So at night, when the baby would cry, I used to carry her outside. And soon as you go outside, she would stop. I used to do that a lot.

You had your hands full.

I think it was the busiest time of my life. I couldn't do anything to take advantage of any classes or anything. My mother-in-law wasn't well. She had to do everything in a chamber pot. I just felt so terrible. I didn't want anything to sit there, and so I took it to the latrine. In the winter, they would build up troughs right down the two sides, and the middle was the walking area. It would get like icicles, you know, on the ledge of the doorway. So, this part gets hard too. And then so that was my biggest concern was that I wouldn't slip with the potty on the way to the latrine, but then I didn't want it to sit in the room.

Can you tell me about what it was like to come back?

Isn't that funny? I can remember going, but I can't remember coming back. We were all so happy. 

I'm wondering, did you ever fill out a loyalty card?

Yes. As far as I was concerned, there was no choice but to answer yes.

In some camps, it was a bigger topic of discussion than others. 

My grandson is a junior high teacher. He wanted me to come to his class one day to give kind of a synopsis of why we had to go to internment camps. I think it was seventh graders. And the reaction that I got surprised me. They were so angry, you know, to think that their country could do something like that. They're so honest.

What did you think about the redress movement?

Considering what everyone went through, I thought it was certainly a token, you know, a settlement. The $20,000. But I never expected it to happen.

Do you think something like this might happen again?

Oh, I think when the Hmong came in this area, they started farming and they started raising strawberries. The others, who have always lived here, they don't understand how these things happen. They ridiculed these Hmong people. The way they dress differently. But I explain to my grandchildren, never do that. Even if they're shy and don't acknowledge you, always be the first to say hello.

Do you have more words of wisdom?

I wouldn't say wisdom, except, extend your hand. Be willing to help.

I read an article that quoted you, and I think it was when 9/11 happened and the article said that you approach the woman in a hijab. You bowed and she bowed back. I will always remember you as that graceful person.

Interview conducted by Grace Megumi Fleming. JAMsj thanks Grace for allowing the museum to archive and share these oral histories