CHAPTER SIX

Chapter VI

As we taxied to a stop before a large crowd, I looked forward to stepping out of the plane with apprehension. It seemed almost as if I was entering a world I was no longer a part of. We were immediately placed in ambulances or military automobiles whichever the need dictated and driven directly to Letterman General Hospital. For the next two or three days we underwent exhaustive physical examinations. Those of us who were found to be free of contagious diseases were allowed almost complete freedom. Never has a city been so receptive and so grateful as San Francisco. We were issued medallions upon which were written “San Francisco Welcomes Bataan Heroes”. We could pay for nothing even the taxi fares were paid by the city. The first time I went to town I was completely lost. I wandered into a barber shop, had my shoes shined, went to a show, left before it was over and just wandered up and down the streets. I finally caught a cab and told him to take me to Chinatown. At the first Chinese restaurant I dismissed my cab, went in and ordered the biggest bowl of rice in the house. Having gotten my feet wet in the transition from prisoner to a complete freedom, I caught a cab back to the hospital. We began to go to town in groups and became increasingly brave in accepting our newfound freedom. In fact, we began to abuse it so that I am sure the hospital staff was glad to see us go.

My orders came through; I was being transferred to Thayer Hospital near my home in Nashville, Tennessee. This was in early 1945 and the Japanese had not surrendered; our group of twenty- four were the only prisoners that had actually been returned to the United States. In 1945, the most popular mode of travel was by train. As we started our journey across country, the conductor looked me up and said that he had gotten a wire from the President of the railroad that I was on the train and that he was to make my trip as pleasant and comfortable as possible. I was immediately assigned a stateroom and for the rest of the trip given anything I asked for. I thought I was particularly popular with the passengers and later on I found out why. Before I started my trip, I had been given a case of cigarettes which contained fifty cartons and not knowing that cigarettes were at a premium when anybody asked me for one, I gave them a package.

As the train rolled into Nashville it was about two o’clock in the morning. Standing on the platform waiting for me were two people that meant more to me than anybody else in the world, the girl I had loved since I was eighteen and my mother. My sister was there and, of course, she I also loved. I was so happy that after we had exhausted our public greeting and convinced each other of how good it was to be home that I had let y girl catch a taxi and go home by herself at three o’clock in the morning. I was the first Japanese prisoner to return to Tennessee and since the war was still going on, an object of curiosity and patriotism. On my first Sunday morning; my picture came out with a three column spread on the Sunday paper. After that things went from sad to the ridiculous. There was a carload of girls who came from Ward Belmont that wanted to show me Nashville. Even though I had worked at Western Union and knew every pig path in the city, I spent the day on tour. I received letters that I couldn’t believe. I think the most difficult thing that I had to do was to write mothers who wrote m, desperately seeking some word of a son that was missing in action. I learned that my mother was informed that I was missing in action the day that Bataan fell and listed as such until over a year later when I was on a list of prisoners furnished by the Japanese to the American government. We were allowed to send three cards the entire time we were prisoners; but they were pre-typed and they said, “My health is: bad, fair, good.” And they surely knew that we would not worry our families by saying our health was bad.

After being home about a week, I received a notice from the draft board that I mist register for the draft. Now I wasn’t trying to be contrary, but I felt like that a man with a stiff leg who had just been out of a three year Japanese prison camp should not have to be in a hurry to register for the draft. But I was wrong. I found out at last that I was back in the good old U.S.A., for in a few days here came a United States Marshal after me for failing to register. I suggested to him that it might be best that I get discharged before I registered because if I was drafted they might get me for being A.W.O.L., from the hospital. After much confused conversation, they decided that someone had made a big mistake and that I could wait until after I was discharged and then to make sure I registered for the draft. I put them on notice immediately that I was going to be a conscientious objector.

On April the Fourteenth I was discharged from Thayer Hospital. When we look back on our lives, there are so many little chance things that happen that change the entire direction of our lives you feel that had it not been for any one of these, your lie would have been entirely different. I was sitting at a restaurant in Nashville when I noticed two men in a booth across from me. I had not purchased any civilian clothes since I had just gotten my discharge, and I still had my uniform on with all my ribbons. One of the men, very distinguished looking grey-headed man, spoke to his waitress and she came over and asked me if I would join their table. The men introduced themselves, and the grey-headed man was a Mr. Atkinson whom I learned later was a former United States Congressman and State Attorney General. Here began a friendship that made me forever grateful for the privilege of having known this wonderful man.

One day while I was visiting his law office, he asked me if I would be interested in either the Secret Service or the Internal Revenue Service. After learning that the Internal Revenue Service started you out at fifty dollars more than the Secret Service, I decided I would try this. I was sworn in the next day. This was during a time that most all jobs with the government were by political appointment. These jobs now require civil service examinations and have definite educational prerequisites. While with the Internal Revenue, I learned that most of the antagonism shown the bureau was the natural rebellion against any kind of authority plus the inability of the agent to show the taxpayer consideration. In the seven years that I was with the Internal Revenue Department and in contrast to all of the stories that were circulated, our instructions were always to compute taxes to the benefit of taxpayers.

In the close association with Mr. Atkinson I met Dr. King Vivian who was pastor of McKendress Church in Nashville. Mr. Atkinson often told me that when Dr. Vivian was in his office, he felt that there were three present, he, Dr. Vivian and God.

My wife and I were married September the First 1945 by Dr. King Vivian with Mr. Atkinson as best man and immediately left for Gatlinburg for our honeymoon. My wife was very unhappy over the fact that a reporter from Knoxville followed around taking pictures. I was so happy I wouldn’t have cared if they’d sold tickets.

Within the next two years we had settled down into the routine of the day to day living. I began to have a growing dissatisfaction with my job. It seemed that I was never in a position to help someone and that my contacts always resulted in leaving a financial hardship or an unhappy person. I had been wanting to go back to law school, so, on the spur of the moment, I resigned. I entered law school at Vanderbilt in 1947, ut here again I found myself dissatisfied. My wife had stopped work and even through we had some income, I decided to back to the Internal Revenue Service. Rather than go back to the Tennessee District, Florida sounded like an interesting place to live. I had a brother who had been practicing medicine there for several years. Here again was one of those chance happenings that changed our future lives. We were on our way to check a possible job at West Palm Beach and had to stop for the night at Orlando. The next morning I called the Chief to let him know that we were in Florida, and he asked me where we were. When we said Orlando, he suggested that we stay there. We stayed there for seven years and Orlando still, to us, is the garden spot of Florida.

On October the Fourteenth 1951 our existence was justified. Our son was born, as we carried him home from the hospital and I looked at him in his mother’s arms, I thought to myself, “Without a doubt that is the prettiest baby that was ever born.” I was grateful for every little thing in the course of my life that had given me direction to this place and time. As he began to grow, I would push him to town in his buggy. People would say, “He sure is a pretty baby,” and I’d say, “He sure is, isn’t he?” My wife would tell me that I shouldn’t say that. This I couldn’t understand because I thought so too.

Again I began to feel so badly about our tax structure that I began to develop ulcers from carrying other peoples’ problems home with me at night. Finally in 1954 I could take it no longer and we moved back to Nashville, Tennessee, where I went into the private tax business.