School day memories of Mae Higashiyama

Grant County history

The Grant County Historical Society has compiled several volumes of Grant County history. The books are available for purchase at the Historical Society Museum gift shop in Ephrata.

These are memories of Grant County, compiled from taped interviews by the Grant County Historical Society.

Mae Higashiyama provides an interesting and unique view of Grant County history. Read on.

Today we continue the story of Mrs. Maeky (Mae) Higashiyama:

I remember sitting on the porch with the neighborhood kids and singing “Jesus Loves Me” at the top of our lungs. Also, I remember being rocked back and forth on a homemade cart with steering wheels and well-greased slats made into springs.

I wasn’t pushed for a nice long ride; I was pushed and pulled back and forth over grooves and nuts with the boys happily watching their home made springs work.

And since dad farmed there was work and there was work and more work. Many times I was chief cook for the family.

From kindergarten to high school I attended four different schools. At each school I left a very good friend and many fond memories. There’s one that stands out and many of you may have had similar ones.

It was in the fifth grade. My older sister and I were walking home. We always passed under a huge tree; its huge branches extended way over the sidewalk. It was the home of our school principal. The principal’s son, Tom, and his friend, Bob, were up in the tree.

Bob says, “Mae, Tom wants to tell you something.” I looked up and Tom says, “Mae, I love you, I want to marry you.”

I quickly put my hands to cover my ears, covered them tightly and shouted “be quiet, be quiet” and quickly ran across the street and ran right smack into a fourth grade teacher who lived nearby.

As I am running home Tom is still yelling to my sister, “Tell Mae I want to marry her when we grow up.”

Years later when I had moved to a neighboring town and playing on the tennis team who should be playing on the opposite team but Tom. We just barely smiled at each other, finished our tournament and that was that.

More from Mae Higashiyama next week.

In those days, I considered myself very fortunate to be able to participate in any sport. My oldest brother had to quit high school to help dad run the farm; my older sister finished school, but was not able to participate in any activity. My younger brother was able in his junior and senior years to play baseball and was nominated most valuable player.

I was able to play tennis all four years and won several medals and a trophy for the school in a county tournament.

I wonder if anyone else played girls basketball where the court was sectioned off into nine sections and as a basket was made we rotated to the next square. Then the court was divided into three sections, being able to dribble only once? We were such delicate creatures.

I graduated from Lindsay High School, where the Lindsay Olives come from. That school is now Steve Garvey High School. The school was having discipline problems and thought if the school was named after a hero this would change. It has and Steve Garvey visits once a year. My older sister is a cook there, so she manages to get baseballs and jackets personally signed for my grandson.

I attended Visalia Junior College in the fall of 1940 and to San Francisco Junior College in the spring of 1941. I stayed and worked in a home for room and board, did typing for my business instructor for some extra money, folded newspapers, sent some money home too and studied to become a secretary.

Everything went on a routine basis until the 7th of December, 1941. I cannot recall how I heard the news, by radio or the people I worked for. Can’t even recall how I found out I had to move from the A Zone, the coastal region. It’s strange I can’t recall if I took the bus or train. I just remember moving into a makeshift of a house, made of sheets as the folks had to move from the B Zone further inland to the C Zone.

The next thing I remember is being on a train to a relocation center in Arizona. Years later I was told that a grocery store owner had asked how I was. He remembers me saying, “Where are we going? What’s going to happen to us?” I don’t remember this at all.

I know I had always wanted to travel and remember thinking, “well good, at least I’ll see another state.” Now putting this all down, what contradictions.

We must have harvested some of the crops until we had to leave in July. I believe we gave away many of our possessions. Dad must have sold our car and pickup. However we ended down in Poston II, Arizona and were immediately given salt tablets because it was very hot.

Poston I, II and III are about 40 miles south of what is now Lake Havasu City. It is located on the upper portion of the Colorado River Indian Reservation. The head administrator for the three camps was a government official, a Mr. Crawford.

Each camp was divided into blocks with barracks, a mess hall, latrines and showers much like the army training centers. Each block had a block manager, each camp an administration office and it was operated much like any small town with an employment office, transportation department, school, etc.

More from Mae Higashiyama next week.