Cars, Ford Mustang

Ode to the 60’s

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America was king.

…but Camelot ended when President JFK was assassinated; he was our last true combat veteran and leader. LBJ came into power.

LSD.

The Feminist Movement.

The first heart transplant.

Liberal tainted news reporting, ‘Nam and 55,000 Americans.

Hippies.

Apollo 8 and 11.

The Wonderful World of Color and Combat!

Marilyn OD’d and Joey Heatherton was in.

Gas was 29 cents per gallon and you got Blue Chip Stamps.

Fuel, oxygen, compression and a spark was all that was required to fire up your prized motor. Well, that part (almost) hasn’t left us.

Gas stations cleaned off your windshield with real paper…even the stuff from birds. Yes, you were actually waited on. Just how cool was that?

The service attendant that would short dip the dipstick and tell your old man he was a quart low… Well, maybe it’s good that part’s gone.

Studebaker folded.

Pontiac GTO and the Mustang. A behemoth 409 in an Impala. Four-on-the-Floor and a Hurst. Your cup holder was the babe sitting alongside you in a miniskirt.  Polyglas GTs and Firestone Wide Ovals. Toyotas and Datsuns were nothing but big Hot Wheels.

Ah… Car styling that said, “American”. In 1959, we had this:

Generated by pixel @ 2018-12-14T03:07:42.830606

Twenty-five years later, we had this:

81 chevette lft frnt use_1

What happened? We lost Oldsmobile, AMC, Plymouth… Pontiac and Oldsmobile with the future of GM and Chrysler becoming uncertain soon thereafter. Sure, we can always place blame on management but I feel it is much deeper, much more complicated.

One thing is for certain: I like Clint Eastwood and his spaghetti Westerns… I cringe imagining him riding off into the sunset on a Fiat-badged Jeep.

Indeed, Car 54, where are you?

(Note Jan. 6, 2019: I wrote this over ten years ago for a national Mustang car club.)

World War II

I Am Abhorred

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Photo by Sarah Sanders.

Several years ago, a certain “group” of people – comprised of citizens and non-citizens – screamed bloody murder when a PRIVATELY owned business declined selling their pastry to a gay couple.

Today, the same group of people are screaming for JOY when a PRIVATELY owned business told our Press Secretary they would not serve her and her party… not because of race, religion or sexual preference. Just “because”.

Believably, these people who are cheering the restaurant’s choice say, “They have the right to refuse service to anyone they choose,” just like the pastry shop.

I am abhorred.

I write this not to change your mind if you are part of this hating group; rather, to let others not of this group know there are others who feel disgusted this hypocrisy is raging – just based on unfounded hatred.

The Press Secretary is a hard working mother and wife as shown in their picture above (taken by Sarah Sanders)…and in a power position. Is this not what Liberals are preaching?

I cannot imagine the stress she is under just being wife and mother.

World War II

WWII – Packages from Home

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Today is ARMED FORCES DAY!

Masako and Spam Musubi

mail1 These Marines were fortunate to have mail call out in the Pacific during WWII. A package from home – with new socks perhaps being the ultimate gift – provided huge emotional uplifts.

During WWII, receiving a package from home was the ultimate morale booster for our boys in uniform.  These packages brought tremendous joy to the men, especially when they were near or at the front, subjected to the brutality and extremes of environments.

Upon experiencing the joy of receiving a parcel, very little could surpass finding the lingering scent of their girl’s perfume on a knitted muffler; candy and gum ranked up there, too.   Socks were also in high demand as socks wore out much more quickly than sweaters or mufflers and dry socks were essential necessities to ward off trench foot.  Indeed, trench foot¹ and frostbite took their toll on our boys in battle more than being wounded…

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Army, 陸軍情報局, Nisei, World War II, WWII

The Passing of Dad

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Dad was born nearly a century ago.

It’s amazing when you think of it that way.

February 25, 1919 in Seattle, WA to be exact.  Over 99 years ago.

The fifth of seven siblings born to Hisakichi and Kono Kanemoto, both legal immigrants from Hiroshima.

…but Dad passed away quietly at 99 years of age on Good Friday, March 30, 2018 in Los Angeles, CA – at the same facility where his older sister, my Aunt Shizue, passed away just a few years earlier at 95.

Just an eulogy in photographs of Dad:

1920a
Dad on left, somewhere in Seattle with his father Hisakichi and older sister Shizue. Circa 1920.
1920
Circa1921, King and Maynard Streets, Seattle, WA
Dad at right with Grandpa Hisakichi and Aunt Shiz near their barbershop on King and Maynard, Seattle, WA. Circa 1922.

 

1923
Dad at far right. Grandfather holding Suetaro with Shiz holding a precious doll. Circa 1923, Seattle, WA.

 

1924
Dad second from left holding what appears to be a rice ball in front of their Seattle barbershop. Far left is Suetaro; to his right is Aunt Shiz. Circa 1924.

 

1924b
From left clockwise: Grandmother Kono, Suetaro climbing on chair, Dad with cap, Shiz, Mrs. Fujii and her son (?) and the youngest Kanemoto, baby Mieko who would pass away at 15 years of age in Hiroshima.  Circa 1925, corner of Maynard and King Streets, Seattle, WA.

 

1927a
My guess is circa 1925; the youngest sister Mieko appears to be about two years old. Dad on left, Uncle Suetaro is the boy in the center (KIA as a sergeant of the Japanese Imperial Army on Leyte October 1944). By 1927, all but the oldest boy (Uncle Yutaka seated on the left) would be living in Hiroshima. Only two would return to the United States before the outbreak of war. Of those left in Japan, only my Grandma will be alive by war’s end.
This was taken in Seattle. The finish was heavily soiled by oils left by those who handled it decades earlier and could not be smoothly removed.

 

1928a
This is the first and oldest known photograph taken of my father’s Hiroshima home, still owned today by the Kanemoto family, circa 1928. Dad is the third from the left. The photo includes all of my dad’s siblings except for his oldest brother who had returned to Seattle and another brother who died at two years of age in Seattle.
The house was damaged by the atomic blast.

 

Dad on right next to his favorite brother, Suetaro. It is a tiny picture, about the size of a quarter, and it fell out from behind a larger picture glued in place in Granmother Kono’s photo album. Taken in front of family home in Hiroshima. My guess is 1928.

 

Dad is second from left, fourth row back in a lighter uniform, in a class photo at his Hiroshima high school, Nichu. It was totally destroyed by the atomic bomb. Sadly, the odds are tremendous all of his classmates were killed or wounded in the war as was his brother.  Up to a few years ago, he still remembered perhaps six of his classmates pictured. Dad was the last to pass away. Likely 1936.

 

I think of all the pictures of Dad spanning 99 years, this is the happiest I’ve seen him (right), posing at his Hiroshima home with his two younger siblings. Both siblings would pass away before the end of WWII. Circa 1936 is a guess.

 

Dad on his high school track team. He was a track star! Dad is in first row center, in white cap.

 

A page out of his Hiroshima high school’s yearbook: Dad in his senior high school portrait, bottom right. As verified by his predecessor high school administrative staff, he was the last one still living as of three years ago. He would return to Seattle after this. 1937.

 

Dad showing off his pride in his varsity sweater in front of his brother Yutaka’s home on Fir St. in Seattle. Likely taken between 1937 and Pearl Harbor.

 

Dad (standing) with his sister-in-law and my Aunt Haru and his oldest brother Yutaka holding his first son Seiichi Robert. Robert would die at six years of age at the Minidoka prison camp in 1944. All would be imprisoned three years later by President FDR, a Democrat. Taken in Seattle 1938.

 

Dad’s draft card that classified him as an Enemy Alien (4c). Ironically, he had to carry it around in his wallet at all times while imprisoned at the Tule Lake and Minidoka prison camps – therefore the crease. 1943.

 

Dad preparing to ship out to Japan with the rest of his US 8th Army Military Intelligence Service buddies. He was one of the first graduates of the now US Army’s Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center. Presidio of Monterey, November 1947.

 

Dad somewhere in Occupied Japan, March 1948.

 

Dad on his fateful day. Poor guy. I never heard him talk back to mom… ever. Tokyo February 1951.

 

When Dad (at right) took mom to meet his Hiroshima relatives – including my Grandma (circa 1951). I can sense the tension between aristocrat Mom and coubtry woman Grandma Kono! LOL His mom would pass away in 1954, his oldest sister Michie (center) in 1963. All were survivors of the atomic bomb.

 

Likely taken soon after their wedding in 1951. Dad, mom, Aunt Eiko, Grandma and Grandpa. Notice the heavy metal 16mm Bell & Howell movie projector. I remember using it in Los Angeles as a kid. Tokyo.

 

Dad of left with mom and Grandpa.  I’m the kid.  May 1956 – Tamagawa Park, Tokyo.

 

Dad with mom and me. Dad will decide to leave for America for good the next year. April 7, 1957 – Enoshima Beach, Tokyo

 

Dad watching over me trying to ride my first bike, a Sears Outlet J.C. Higgins. His beat up 1955 Ford Victoria Custom’s fender can be seen at left. Taken at home on Oakford Drive in East Los Angeles. Circa 1962

 

Dad in yellow sweater with some of mom’s Nisei friends. My guess is circa 1969. My guess also is that they have all passed away. East Los Angeles.

 

Dad still wearing that yellow sweater! His first new car (now eight years old in the picture) – a 1963 Mercury Meteor Custom – behind us at LAX, picking up Aunt Eiko and Uncle Paul (also a US 8th Army MIS veteran) who flew in from Tokyo. May 1971.

 

Dad with his older brother Yutaka and oldeer sister Shizue. Best guess is 1985, location unknown.

 

Dad (R) returned to Hiroshima for a vacation in 1997; Masako is in the center. This was taken at his family home. Notice the stepping stone; it is the same one Masako stood next to in a picture taken in 1948. Sadly, this would be his last time in his beloved Hiroshima.

 

Dad actually “died” on his birthday in 2010 when he slumped over just before eating lunch. My oldest daughter Robyn (back to camera) saved the day by jumping in then shaking him until his heart started beating again. What was funny was after starting to breathe again after about a minute, he had no idea anything happened. Paramedics tend to him. Irvine, 2010.

 

Dad in 2012 deciphering the names written on a captured Japanese battle flag from WWII. Some of the people who came across my WWII blogs contacted me about such souvenirs their grandfather’s brought back from the Pacific; they were hopeful Dad would be able to read the key names and village from where the deceased Japanese soldier came from in their attempts to return the flags.  I thought it good for him, just to keep his mind active.  Truthfully, there aren’t many left who can read these old characters.  Not even my mom or aunt could read them. Dad reads them like he was 18 years old.

 

 

This will be the last time Dad and his older sister Aunt Shizue would see each other. She would pass away quietly a short time later at the age of 95. Dad would pass away at the same facility.

 

A cell phone portrait of Dad several years ago at his assisted living facility. After eating, the dining room servers would tell me Dad would sometimes come back a short time later, sit down, and begin to order breakfast again.  The server would say, “Koso, you just ate!” and he would say, “”Oh, yeah?  Pumpkin head.”

 

Dad in center at my oldest daughter’s wedding, January 2013. Photo courtesy of Toyo Miyatake Studios.

 

Although 96 years of age, Dad meets his only great-grandchild Emi. I think everyone was scared he was going to drop her. 2014.

 

My last picture of Dad, flanked by my two youngest kids, taken on his 99th birthday last month. Yes, he is smiling because he got to eat his favorite sweet, “Odango”. February 2018, Los Angeles.

 

And my last video of Dad:

Dad, I wish I were a much better son…  but I know you are joyfully back playing “oninga” or jump-frog in front of your Hiroshima home with your favorite brother Suetaro.  I hope you have all the odango you can eat now.  You will be forever young.

True stories about World War II – One war. Two Countries. One Family