Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.
 

[TIMELINE] Chiaki "Jack" Yoshihara Honored After 66 Years

Expand Messages
  • madchinaman
    War and the Roses for Oregon State Former Oregon State football player Jack Yoshihara received honorary diploma at the commencement ceremony in June 2008. Jack
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 22, 2008
      War and the Roses for Oregon State
      Former Oregon State football player Jack Yoshihara received honorary
      diploma at the commencement ceremony in June 2008.
      Jack Yoshihara might not make it to the big game, but it won't be
      because he isn't allowed to be there, as was the case in 1942.
      By Chris Foster
      http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-beavers22-
      2008nov22,0,6811032.story
      Audio Interview: http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/social_issues/july-
      dec08/honorary_07-29.html
      Video: http://oregonstate.edu/admissions/blog/2008/06/16/at-long-last-
      japanese-american-wwii-era-osu-students-receive-honorary-degrees/
      Video: http://oregonstate.edu/admissions/blog/2008/06/18/meet-the-
      students-behind-the-japanese-american-wwii-era-honoree-degree-
      ceremony/
      Video: http://technorati.com/videos/youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%
      3DQW2OuOaT_Lg


      -

      After war was declared, Oregon State's star freshman end, Chiaki
      Yoshihara, was not allowed to travel more than 35 miles from his home
      in Oregon, precluding him from playing in the Rose Bowl. He would
      spend most of 1942 in an internment camp in Idaho.
      *
      Teammate James Busch told the New Orleans Times-Picayune in
      2005, "Nobody felt that Jack was a subversive threat. He was an
      American. My heritage was German. Nobody discriminated against me."
      *
      Some students had gone home that weekend. Freshman Jack Yoshihara was
      with his family in Portland when they heard the news bulletins of the
      attack. Although his parents were of Japanese heritage, they
      considered themselves Americans and shared the nation's anger over
      the Pearl Harbor disaster. They were chagrined that Japan would do
      such a thing. The family had experienced some racial discrimination
      in the past but they had Caucasian friends and got along well with
      their neighbors. The children talked, dressed and acted like other
      children. But times were suddenly different, and Jack returned to
      campus that Monday with much trepidation.
      *
      It was a day more than six decades in coming on the campus of Oregon
      State University, as 4,500 young men and women ready to receive their
      diplomas, 23 much older Japanese-American former students were
      finally about to receive theirs.

      Sixty-six years ago, the Japanese honorees were themselves kids on
      this Oregon campus. But the U.S. government took them out of the
      university and sent them, along with 120,000 other Japanese-
      Americans, to internment camps.
      *
      after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the United States
      Executive Order 9066 in was signed in the spring of 1942 and over
      120,000 ethnic Japanese people were uprooted and were held in
      internment campus for the duration of the war. This affected the
      lives of 42 Japanese American Oregon State University students as
      they were forced to leave campus, most of whom never returned and
      were unable to complete their degree.
      *
      Those honored were: Noboru Endow, Raymond Hashitani*, Roy R.
      Hashitani*, Shigeru Hongo*, Kate Iwasaki*, Masao Kinoshita*, Kay
      Kiyokawa, Sigeo Kiyokawa*, Taro Miura, Kay Nakagiri, Tom Namba*, Jack
      Nomi, Todd Tadao Okita*, Lena Kageyama Omari*, Tommy Ouchida, Carl
      Somekawa, Aiko Sumoge*, Mabel Sadako Takashima*, Masao Tamiyasu*,
      Edward Ko Yada*, Mary Takao Yoshida, Jack Yoshihara, and Robert
      Yoshitomi. (*deceased, represented by family)

      -


      Jack Yoshihara, a Japanese American and a sophomore reserve on Oregon
      State's football team, was practicing in mid-December 1941, just as
      he had throughout the season.

      There was anticipation, with the Beavers preparing to play second-
      ranked Duke in their first trip to the Rose Bowl game. There was also
      fear, with the country still reeling from the attack on Pearl Harbor
      only a week or so earlier.

      "I will never forget that day," said George Zellick, a teammate of
      Yoshihara's. "It was late afternoon. It was drizzling. We noticed two
      men coming onto the field. They were very well-dressed, wearing
      overcoats and hats. You could tell they were different people. They
      met with the coach and, the next thing we new, Jack left with them.
      It was the first indication that Jack had a problem."

      The Beavers went to the Rose Bowl, which had been moved to Durham,
      N.C., because of the war, and upset Duke. They traveled without
      Yoshihara, who was not allowed to go to the game, left school and was
      soon sent to a civilian assembly center in Portland.

      Oregon State and Duke players went to war after the game. Yoshihara
      went to the Minidoka internment camp in Idaho.

      In June, Yoshihara was among the Oregon State students of Japanese
      ancestry, interned during World War II, who were given honorary
      degrees by the university. After receiving his diploma, Yoshihara was
      asked to hold up his 1942 Rose Bowl ring, given to him 1985, bringing
      cheers from the crowd at Reser Stadium.

      University President Edward Ray stepped to the microphone and
      said, "It seems to me, given the setting we're in today, it is only
      appropriate that we give Jack another Rose Bowl."

      Rose Bowl, 2009

      This season's Oregon State team is trying to honor that IOU. The
      Beavers need only to win their final two games to get to the Rose
      Bowl for the first time since the 1965 game.

      From his condominium in Edmonds, Wash., the 87-year old Yoshihara,
      who retired 27 years ago from running his refrigerator and air
      conditioning store in Portland, keeps a close eye on Oregon State
      football.

      "We have a good team," Yoshihara said. "We just have to keep winning
      big."

      Even if the Beavers do, Yoshihara said he was unlikely to go to the
      Rose Bowl. He attends homecoming every year, but health issues, which
      forced him to give up ocean fishing three years ago, "would make it
      very hard to drive that far to go to the game."

      Besides, Yoshihara's Rose Bowl is in the past.

      "We knew the world was changing," Yoshihara said about his sophomore
      year at Oregon State. "We just didn't know how much it was going to
      change. But I was an athlete. I didn't worry about politics."

      A young American

      Yoshihara has a firm grasp on his heritage.

      "My mother wasn't exactly a 'Picture Bride,' but she came to this
      country and married a man who turned out to not to be very good,"
      Yoshihara said. "She went back to Japan and I was born three months
      later. We came back in 1924, when I was 3. She said we were on the
      last ship before they stopped allowing Japanese to emigrate to
      America."

      Natusuno Yoshihara settled in Portland, remarried and ran a
      restaurant with her new husband. Her son assimilated into American
      boyhood.

      Yoshihara went to Oregon State as a football player and wrestler.

      "I played a lot on the scout team," he said. "I remember one game I
      was in. Washington had scored and Coach stuck me in there, saying 'We
      have to block that kick.' I rushed in and jumped so high the ball
      went under me and they got the point. If I would have just stood
      there, it would have hit me."

      Zellick remembers Yoshihara differently.

      "Jack was a really good athlete," said Zellick, who now lives in
      Lewiston, Mont. "He was fast and tough. He's just being modest."

      The Beavers started 2-2 in 1941, then didn't give up a point the next
      four games. They wrapped up their first Pacific Coast Conference
      title and the Rose Bowl berth by beating Oregon, 12-7, on Nov. 29.

      "Everyone was real happy the week after the game," Yoshihara
      said. "All my friends wanted me to get them tickets."

      That changed on the next Sunday morning.

      Clouds of war

      Zellick was at his fraternity house when news of the Japanese attack
      first came in.

      "We all made a mad dash down into the study, where there were maps,"
      Zellick said. "We wanted to see how close Pearl Harbor was to the
      West Coast."

      Yoshihara was having breakfast at home with his parents when they
      heard the news.

      "I thought, 'What more can happen?' " he said.

      Yoshihara learned the answer. Not long after Pearl Harbor, he was
      told by university officials that he would not be allowed to go to
      the Rose Bowl, as Japanese Americans on the West Coast were not
      permitted to travel more than 35 miles from their homes.

      Teammate James Busch told the New Orleans Times-Picayune in
      2005, "Nobody felt that Jack was a subversive threat. He was an
      American. My heritage was German. Nobody discriminated against me."

      The Beavers traveled to Durham and shocked the Blue Devils, whose
      quarterback was future Oregon State and UCLA coach Tommy Prothro, 20-
      16. In Corvallis, Yoshihara listened to the game on radio, "holding
      my breath most of the time."

      The world did the same.

      "Our innocence was gone," Zellick said.

      The Oregon State and Duke players went off to war, though the game
      seemed to follow them.

      During the Battle of the Bulge, Stan Czech, a tackle for that Beavers
      team, was sharing food and coffee with another soldier in a foxhole.
      After a few minutes of conversation, he realized it was Wallace Wade,
      the Duke coach.

      Charlie Haynes, Duke's backup quarterback, and Frank Parker, an
      Oregon State tackle, became platoon leaders in different companies.
      During the Arno Valley campaign in Italy, Parker came across a
      severely wounded Haynes and carried him to a farmhouse, where medics
      saved his life.

      Zellick joined the Marines, and led his platoon onto the beach during
      the Okinawa invasion. He didn't see Yoshihara again until a reunion
      of 1942 Rose Bowl team "years later."

      "I was so happy to see him," Zellick said. "We swapped some stories.
      But he didn't talk a lot about what he'd been through."

      The war years

      Yoshihara had a different American experience. He was denied
      enlistment because he was born in Japan. He had left school early in
      1942, and going back to Oregon State was out of the question.

      "Several other Japanese students tried, but they were discouraged by
      the school," Yoshihara said. "They were told they were welcome, but
      they might run into problems in the community."

      He does not wallow in his experience, yet in discussing the time
      stark facts come out.

      He was sent to a Portland assembly center in the spring of 1942,
      where officials had put plywood in the ground at the Pacific
      International Livestock Exposition. It housed nearly 4,000 people.

      "We were all kids, so we did athletics, tennis, judo, baseball," said
      Yoshihara, who was then 21.

      But, Yoshihara added, "The wood floors were really dirty and the big
      mistake we made was hosing them down. All the animal manure
      underneath came though the floors."

      The next fall, Yoshihara and his parents were sent to Minidoka, where
      it dipped to minus-21 degrees in the winter and hit 104 during the
      summer.

      "They just had barracks, with wood siding and a tar roof," Yoshihara
      said. "We could see the dust come through the walls when the wind
      blew. And it always blew.

      "The young people made the best of it. The older ones didn't know
      what to think."

      Yoshihara said his parents were "sick about it," as they had to walk
      way from their restaurant.

      Yoshihara played sports and, in time, qualified for a day pass that
      allowed him to leave the camp to work.

      He worked on farms and drove a truck, delivering packages and goods,
      though he was forbidden from going west of Arlington in northeastern
      Oregon.

      Always, he felt under suspicion.

      "The food was so bad in camp, Army food, and those of us who had
      passes could eat outside," Yoshihara said. "But we didn't dare. If
      you sat down in a restaurant, everyone there would stare you down."

      The postwar years

      Yoshihara and his parents spent the duration of the war in the camp.
      Life afterward was different, yet the same.

      His parents opened a new restaurant. Yoshihara went back to school
      for a time, attending Multnomah College in Portland.

      He never played organized football again and gravitated to the
      refrigerator and air-conditioning business. He and his first wife,
      Elsie, were friends as children and were married for 50 years,
      raising two children. After Elsie died, he married another childhood
      friend, Mary, in 2000.

      Yoshihara has attended a few reunions of the Rose Bowl team and was
      included when the group was put into the Oregon State Hall of Fame in
      1985. That's when he received the ring from the '42 game.

      "The whole team was very sad about what happened to him," Zellick
      said. "It sobered everyone up when he was not allowed to go to the
      Rose Bowl. He was a real nice person and a good friend. That war was
      a difficult thing and strange things happened."

      Yoshihara prefers not to dwell on the strange things.

      Asked about the day the FBI agents came, he states in a flat, stern
      voice, "Yeah, that happened."

      Asked about another day, at another football field, emotion comes
      through.

      Said Yoshihara: "That day, when the president told my story and asked
      me to show my ring, I had tears."


      ================


      More WWII-era Japanese Americans Receive Delayed Degrees
      http://www.hyphenmagazine.com/blog/2008/07/more-wwiiera-japanese-
      american.html


      Back in May, the University of Washington issued honorary diplomas
      and official apologies to its Japanese American alumni who had been
      forced out of the campus and into internment camps during World War
      II.


      Now, Oregon State University has followed suit and PBS's NewsHour
      interviewed some of the former students including 87-year-old Jack
      Yoshihara who was the only Asian American player on an OSU football
      team to make it to the Rose Bowl (but was banned from even attending
      the competition) and Kay Nakagiri who recalls having guns stuck in
      his stomach as he crossed campus.

      OSU president Edward Ray said: "This is the commencement ceremony
      that you should have had so many years ago. And this is the
      opportunity for all of us to tell you publicly how sorry we are for
      your pain."

      America has been apologizing a lot lately: North Carolina apologized
      for slavery back in April, and just the other day Congress apologized
      for both slavery and Jim Crow. Even abroad choruses of "sorry" are
      ringing out, such as Australia's apology to the Aborigines back in
      February for...pretty much doing what the U.S. did to its native
      population.

      What does an "official apology" for grave injustices really mean,
      especially decades or generations after the fact? I can understand
      the unfairness of current officials having to make apologies for
      policies made (for the most part) before their time, but I can also
      see some of these apologies as a kind of generic "our bad" that's
      more of an appeasement to them and their predecessors rather than the
      victims themselves. If you say you're sorry, I guess the follow-up
      would naturally be, "So now what?"

      But since I've been fortunate enough to have never experienced
      discrimination of this caliber in my lifetime, I also can't say that
      an apology wouldn't be significant, or wouldn't provide a sense of
      closure for victims. For the OSU students such as Nakagiri —who had
      the most mixed feelings about returning to campus for the
      commencement — was said to have "planned to have his new Oregon State
      diploma framed" instead of rejecting his college experience there.


      =============


      Part 24 of 30: The World War II Years (Part 1 of 2)
      By George Edmonston Jr., History and Traditions Editor
      Saturday and Sunday, December 6-7, 1941
      http://www.osualum.com/s/359/index.aspx?sid=359&gid=1&pgid=527


      Many Oregon Staters of that generation forever referred to these two
      days as the "Last Weekend." For thousands of students, alumni and
      faculty, it was.

      This was the weekend of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, which
      signaled immediate, inalterable changes in the lives of OSU alumni.
      Like the 9/11 attacks on New York City and Washington, D.C., the
      entire country, including the town of Corvallis and its land-grant
      college, were forced by circumstances to transform, almost overnight,
      from peace-loving, democratic individuals, into a national group
      entity demanding one's conformity, loyalty, self-sacrifice, and the
      shelving of all personal plans.

      In town that Saturday night, things were fairly typical. Campus
      lights glistened on wet pavement, house windows glowed, voices and
      music filled the air. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere after a
      busy week of study and work. Nothing hinted the world was about to
      change. Besides the regular weekend events at frats and sororities,
      the movie "Thin Man" was playing downtown at the Whiteside Theater, a
      student production of "George Washington Slept Here" was running at
      the Majestic, and for the more serious social set, the Sophomore
      Cotillion was being held in the MU Ballroom with the theme, "Arabian
      Nights." At the Benton Hotel, the Sigma Kappas were holding their
      annual initiation banquet.

      Also, there were the local hangouts, busy as usual...Brownie's Shake
      Shack, the Electric Lunch, and the Chat-N'-Chew were all popular. For
      the stay-at-homes, there were exams to study for, gab sessions, and
      music on the radio. Saturday night was dance night on the networks
      and devotees listened to the "Lucky Strike Hit Parade" and dozens of
      classic big bands all evening. ...Glenn Miller, Artie Shaw, Benny
      Goodman, the Dorseys, the "Thundering Herd"...those were the days!

      If anyone at OSU was looking ahead, the reason was football and the
      most anticipated New Year's Day in school history. OSU had won the
      Pacific Coast Championship that fall with a 5-2 season, having beaten
      Oregon 12-7 on Nov. 29, which qualified the Beavers for the right to
      face No. 2-ranked Duke in the Rose Bowl.

      When hearing it would be the Blue Devils from Durham, N.C., the
      Beaver team showed immediate disappointment. They had wanted a tangle
      with No. 1-ranked Minnesota, but the Big Ten Conference had a "no
      bowls" rule in force at that time, so it was Duke, like it or not.
      The campus literally rocked with school spirit.

      Those students with the money made plans to follow the team south. A
      section of seats on the 50-yard line had been reserved for them, with
      tickets at $4.50 each. The price of a round-trip train ride to the
      game was $17.50, sleeping berths available at extra cost. Two
      students were allowed to share the same berth. Hundreds signed up.

      The Barometer carried endless Rose Bowl stories and preachy
      editorials on how students should behave in the stands. Fans were
      blasted for poor coordination of their yells. The paper boomed, "When
      three rahs are called for, that's all you should give. Your conduct,"
      the writer concluded, "will be examined critically by spectators and
      officials."

      With all this going on, it's safe to say that the last thing on the
      minds of most that weekend was the war in Europe, which had been
      raging now for more than two years, or the prospects of war in the
      Pacific. The grim images they saw in the newsreels every week seemed
      so far away. Those were things happening to strangers, other people
      in other parts of the world. Not that the war hadn't touched the
      campus. The draft had started in 1940 as a "defensive" move, and
      thousands of civilian soldiers were already training at old World War
      I training camps using antiquated equipment. Many recent Oregon State
      alums, especially those with four years of ROTC on their transcripts,
      had already been commissioned as officers to help train these troops.
      Some students enlisted early to earn better ranks than they might
      earn as draftees. Some enlisted for the sheer glamour of it all. The
      Army Air Corps began showing up in Corvallis with dazzling "air
      shows" designed to both entertain and recruit! Dick Linden's small
      airport south of town was generally the location for these shows. At
      the conclusion, the recruiting teams were usually met by a crowd of
      OSU students anxious to sign up to take the rigorous physical exams
      that often eliminated 95 percent of those applying.

      If Saturday night was typical, the same could also be said for Sunday
      morning, Dec. 7. It started out an ordinary, slow-moving Sunday
      morning with late breakfasts, sleep-ins, church, the Sunday paper. An
      ROTC band concert was scheduled for that afternoon. The Westminster
      House would host a forum titled, "The Interpretation of Christmas
      Carols," and the Majestic would return to movies after a weekend of
      student dramatics, a double-feature of "Road to Zanzibar," and "All-
      American Coed."

      Some students had gone home that weekend. Freshman Jack Yoshihara was
      with his family in Portland when they heard the news bulletins of the
      attack. Although his parents were of Japanese heritage, they
      considered themselves Americans and shared the nation's anger over
      the Pearl Harbor disaster. They were chagrined that Japan would do
      such a thing. The family had experienced some racial discrimination
      in the past but they had Caucasian friends and got along well with
      their neighbors. The children talked, dressed and acted like other
      children. But times were suddenly different, and Jack returned to
      campus that Monday with much trepidation.

      Off duty that Sunday morning (Dec. 7), Oregon Stater Paul
      Frazer, '38, who was stationed with his family at Schofield Barracks--
      -a giant military complex in the middle of Oahu---had seen the first
      Japanese planes stream through the Kolekole Pass, then watched in
      horror as they destroyed hundreds of American aircraft lined up on
      the airstrip at nearby Wheeler Field. Rushing to his gun crew, Frazer
      hurriedly set up a defensive position to fight back.

      Paul's wife, Aleta, along with neighbors, stood out in the street
      watching the air show, mesmerized by the violent scene as though
      watching a movie. Suddenly Aleta became part of the action when a
      Japanese plane headed down their block with guns blazing from its
      wings. Clutching their 11-month old daughter, she found herself
      bracketed between two fiery streams of lead tearing up the asphalt at
      her feet in rough furrows. Terrified, she and the others scrambled to
      the nearby pineapple field for camouflage.

      There were, in fact, quite a few Oregon Staters in Hawaii at the time
      of the attack. They found themselves immediately cut off from the
      rest of the world, with no form of communication permitted. Not only
      were radio and cable phone connections put under military control,
      all the mail was placed under military censorship. They all recount
      the morning in much the same way: they were having coffee or
      breakfast when they heard the planes and explosions. Most remember
      not being especially concerned with the racket because the Army and
      Navy had been carrying out mock attacks for the past several weeks,
      so military "noises" were not unusual. This seemed more of the same.
      Pete Beamer, '38, a civilian resident of Honolulu, was on the golf
      course at Ala Wai when he saw hundreds of planes overhead, finally
      rushing to the clubhouse to alert the others when he saw they were
      Japanese. Valeria Coon (Dottgerer), also '38, and Dorothy Tripp, '38,
      both starting business careers in Honolulu, were awakened in their
      Waikiki beachside rooming house by someone who heard voices of Army
      pilots on the radio. Professor W.A. Frazer of the crops department at
      the University of Hawaii, who would later spend 24 years on faculty
      at OSU, was on campus working with a batch of experimental tomatoes.
      Absorbed in his work, unbelievably Dr. Frazer didn't learn about the
      attack until he went home for lunch.

      Roy "Spec" Keene, '21, was in Hawaii at the time as head coach of the
      Willamette University football team, which had lost to the University
      of Hawaii that Saturday night. The team, along with a group of
      boosters from Salem, were having breakfast when things started going
      crazy. Unruffled, their waiters told them not to be concerned because
      it was just another day of maneuvers. Later, when the groups learned
      otherwise, they volunteered to help. The football team joined a
      quickly assembled auxiliary police force, and the others went to
      hospitals and emergency centers.

      In less than a month after the attack, life at OSU changed
      completely. It had taken less time than anyone could have imagined
      for everyone to start thinking in terms of wartime. "Don't you know
      there's a war on" became the most popular expression on campus. Civil
      defense activities began immediately. On Dec. 8, the whole Pacific
      Coast was under a form of martial law, administered by the Western
      Defense Command and the Fourth Army. The audacity and ferocity of the
      Japanese attacks on Hawaii and (soon after) the Philippines had
      caused the government concern that some kind of action against the
      mainland could be expected, if for no other reason than to intimidate
      the American public. All radio stations in Washington and Oregon were
      ordered off the air. The Puget Sound area was blacked out on Dec. 8,
      and Portland and the Willamette Valley followed the next day.
      Blackouts were in force from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. and actually
      functioned as curfews, since all vehicles except police and emergency
      cars were kept off the streets and highways during these hours,
      restricting all but official travel. The chairman of the Benton
      County civil defense council asked for volunteers to serve as air
      raid wardens and to help place a 24-hour guard over all public
      utilities and industrial plants in the area, as well as the watershed
      and water distribution systems. Security regulations went into effect
      on the campus as well. Blackout procedures and safety precautions
      were explained to students and staff. People were given instructions
      on how to protect themselves from a poison gas attack but no
      protective masks were ever issued. Fortunately, they were never
      needed.

      On Tuesday, Dec. 9, the Barometer sampled opinions on campus about
      the war. Some students wanted to enlist right away, others were glad
      the war had finally started since it was inevitable anyway. A
      professor said that even though he expected to be called up any day,
      students should stay and finish their degrees if at all possible.
      Most coeds agreed on that point and cautioned men against signing up
      impulsively. Advanced ROTC students were encouraged to remain in
      school, since they would be better off starting Army careers as
      second lieutenants.

      Despite this calming advice, many students found it hard to
      concentrate on their work and enlisted, pressured as they were by the
      prospects of an accelerated draft and their own feelings of
      obligation...a mixture of peer pressure and patriotism that existed
      on campus freely and unabashedly. At the same time, the
      militarization of the Pacific Northwest went along rapidly. Naval gun
      emplacements appeared along the coast and anti-aircraft guns popped
      up around important factories, fuel storage areas and utilities.
      Guards patrolled major bridges, tunnels and railroad centers. It came
      as little surprise then, that near Astoria, Oregon, on the night of
      June 21, 1942, a Japanese submarine surfaced off the coast and began
      shelling the guns at the large military fort there, the only incident
      in the history of the United States where the mainland of the country
      has been attacked by the military of another country. Helping operate
      Battery Russell that day was Oregon Stater (Lieutenant) Wilbur T.
      Cooney, '36, who had been called back to duty while an instructor at
      OSC. No one was injured and little damage was inflicted on the
      military installation, built in the 19th century to protect the mouth
      of the Columbia River from just what had happened.

      This incident helped dramatize the vulnerability of the Pacific
      Coast. Defense capabilities were still inadequate and poorly
      coordinated and since there were no military airfields yet operating
      near coastal batteries, the attacking sub could not be pursued.
      However, the pace of construction quickened considerably and a huge
      network of airfields began to appear up and down the shores of the
      coastal states, providing bases for defensive bombing of an enemy at
      sea and for attacking incoming bombers with fighter groups. The
      fields were arranged in columns that allowed for falling back to the
      interior if necessary. One of these new fields was located just south
      of Corvallis and was used by the Army Air Corps during most of the
      war to base B-17s and B-24s, as well as a variety of fighters. It was
      later operated by the Navy and Marines, and the site helped inspire
      and train many Oregon Staters who went on to make major contributions
      to the war effort as fighter pilots, including Marion Carl and Rex
      Barber, two members of the immortal "Cactus Air Force" of the
      Guadalcanal campaign. (We will visit these two combat aces again in
      next week's chapter.)

      Also, the government ordered that large public gatherings on the West
      Coast were to be prohibited for the duration of the war, and the
      first significant victim of this policy was the Rose Bowl Game
      scheduled for New Year's Day, 1942. It would have meant a crowd of
      90,000 at the game and a million along the parade route. To military
      planners, the ban made good sense. To OSU fans, it was catastrophic.
      Eventually, the game was moved off the West Coast to Duke University
      where the Beavers won their only Rose Bowl in history, a 20-16 major
      upset over the powerful Blue Devil team led by a quarterback who
      would one day become a coaching legend at Oregon State, Tommy
      Prothro. Duke had rolled out the red carpet for the visiting team
      from Corvallis, even making team captain Martin Chaves honorary mayor
      of Durham for the day and showering his teammates with gobs of
      southern hospitality. After their victory, Chaves was quoted as
      saying: "Winning in Durham was special. Someone wins it in Pasadena
      every year!" This game, known to college football historians as
      the "Displaced Rose Bowl," represents the only time in history
      the "granddaddy of all bowls" was not played in Pasadena.

      As 1942 wore on, uniforms began to appear on campus in ever
      increasing numbers. Former students on leave came to visit friends
      and former classmates, and recruiting teams from the service branches
      set up shop on a regular basis. They found Oregon State College to be
      fertile ground. Since before World War I, OSC had been known
      nationally as the "West Point of the West," so strong was its
      emphasis on the Reserve Officers Training Corps. ROTC was compulsory
      for all male students during their first two years in school, while
      those who qualified were offered two additional years of advanced
      training and, in most cases, were commissioned as U.S. Army officers
      upon graduation. In the spring term of '42, there were 1,683 students
      enrolled in military instruction at Oregon State. Of these, 110 were
      commissioned immediately and sent to active duty. They were sorely
      needed to help train the millions of civilian soldiers being drafted.

      By the end of the war, more than 2,000 students had received ROTC
      training at Oregon State; more cadets had been commissioned at OSU
      than at any other non-military academy in the U.S. ROTC enrollment
      dropped off by 1943. The draft and enlistments had taken most of the
      young men off campus, except for those in engineering and other
      critical technical courses that warranted deferments. But the
      presence of the military at Oregon State did not diminish. With so
      many empty classrooms and such a pressing need for technically
      trained people in the armed forces, the answer was to send soldiers
      back to school in the Army Specialized Training Program, or ASTP.
      Coursework was intense and basically limited to engineering,
      communications and languages. At its peak, more than 1,295 students
      were assigned to OSU as ASTP students, and they took over Snell and
      Waldo Halls for living quarters. Three frat houses were also used. Of
      the 1,971 civilian students on campus, the 1,529 women lived in 10
      empty fraternity houses and the 442 men lived in four.

      The impact the war had on student life after 1942-43 was immense. All
      group activities were affected. Sports were reduced to intramural
      affairs, since travel between schools was almost eliminated, and
      football was simply not played for the 1943-44 seasons. Traditions
      tended to be suspended or ignored and social events were smaller and
      simpler, with all-girl get-togethers very popular. Without men
      dominating student activities, women quickly filled the void. The
      student council, the Barometer, the debate team and other student
      organizations were staffed mostly by women. The Student War Council
      coordinated fund drives, bond sales, paper and scrap drives. The Red
      Cross Council organized groups that made surgical dressings, made
      scrapbooks for hospitals, put together gift boxes for the men
      overseas and handled blood donations.

      Actually, the presence of so many soldiers meant more to the women of
      Oregon State than just male companionship at social activities, the
      rare times this was possible. Almost every one of them had a brother,
      sister, cousin, fiancee or friend in uniform. Letters made it
      possible for those back on campus to understand some of the
      challenges facing these young soldiers in a time of war. By the same
      token, the soldiers reminded the coeds of their own loved ones, their
      loneliness and vulnerability. The largest military presence in the
      area, however, was not Oregon State's ASTP program but the training
      facility north of Corvallis known as Camp Adair. During 1943-44, more
      than 100,000 combat soldiers trained at this giant facility, and many
      of these would return to Corvallis and Albany after the war to resume
      their lives and education. Not a few of these ended up as students
      back at Oregon State, either to begin work on a degree or to finish
      something started before the war.


      ===========


      Decades Later, Japanese-American Students Graduate
      More than 60 years since they were forced to leave their university
      during World War II, Japanese-Americans have received their honorary
      diplomas and an official apology from Oregon State University. Lee
      Hochberg reports on their long-awaited graduation.
      http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/social_issues/july-dec08/honorary_07-
      29.html


      JIM LEHRER: Next, an apology and belated degrees. They're for
      Japanese-Americans who were forced out of their university during
      World War II.

      NewsHour correspondent Lee Hochberg of Oregon Public Broadcasting
      reports.

      LEE HOCHBERG, NewsHour Correspondent: It was a day more than six
      decades in coming on the campus of Oregon State University, as 4,500
      young men and women ready to receive their diplomas, 23 much older
      Japanese-American former students were finally about to receive
      theirs.

      Sixty-six years ago, the Japanese honorees were themselves kids on
      this Oregon campus. But the U.S. government took them out of the
      university and sent them, along with 120,000 other Japanese-
      Americans, to internment camps.

      University President Edward Ray.

      EDWARD RAY, President, Oregon State University: This is the
      commencement ceremony that you should have had so many years ago. And
      this is the opportunity for all of us to tell you publicly how sorry
      we are for your pain.


      Discrimination before the camps
      LEE HOCHBERG: To heartfelt applause, one by one, the Japanese
      students received honorary diplomas.

      EDWARD RAY: Mr. Jack Yoshihara.

      LEE HOCHBERG: Eighty-seven-year-old Jack Yoshihara was 21 in 1942, a
      sophomore engineering student, the only Japanese-American on the
      Oregon State football team that went to the Rose Bowl.

      At a breakfast the morning of the graduation, he told us because he
      was Japanese-American he wasn't allowed to travel to the game.

      JACK YOSHIHARA: They had to move the game from Pasadena to the East
      Coast because they were scared there might be a bomb threat. And then
      they said, "Well, you can't go, because you can't travel more than 35
      miles from home." So that was it.

      LEE HOCHBERG: So you couldn't play?

      JACK YOSHIHARA: I couldn't go. It's one of the worst times I ever had.

      LEE HOCHBERG: The players just boarded the train? And what did you do?

      JACK YOSHIHARA: Well, I just kind of walked away. That's all, one of
      my worst moments.

      LEE HOCHBERG: He went home to his mother and listened to the game on
      the radio. He says he couldn't bear it. Later, they were sent to the
      Minidoka Internment Camp in Idaho.

      His story deeply moved Phyllis Lundy, sitting at the next table. Her
      mother, Mable Takashima, was an OSU freshman in 1942 before being
      forced to leave. She never got an Oregon State degree and passed away
      in 2001.

      So you're here today why?

      PHYLLIS LUNDY: To honor my mother, to honor these people.


      Long overdue degrees
      LEE HOCHBERG: Indeed, 13 degrees at Oregon State were accepted
      posthumously.

      EDWARD RAY: The late Mr. Edward Ko Yada, accepted by his daughter,
      Kim Yada.

      LEE HOCHBERG: Kim Yada accepted for her father.

      KIM YADA: Too bad it wasn't at least a year ago, because he would
      have still been here. He would be totally thrilled at getting this
      degree.

      LEE HOCHBERG: Extending the honor was the idea of two Oregon State
      students, Joel Fischer and Andrew Kiyuna. Kiyuna initially approached
      the university with the plan, but was rejected. Fischer, who works as
      an aide to a state legislator, convinced his boss to sponsor a state
      bill allowing the degrees to be granted. Kiyuna says it was long
      overdue.

      ANDREW KIYUNA: These people are 80s, 90s. I mean, they were our age
      in 1942. It's been 66 years since then. It's taken a long time for
      something like this to actually happen. And it's sort of a shame it
      hasn't happened sooner.


      Mixed feelings about the return
      LEE HOCHBERG: Not everyone was exuberant to return to the campus
      they'd been forced to leave. Kay Nakagiri was a sophomore engineering
      student and an ROTC member in December of 1941.

      KAY NAKAGIRI: I'm going by their armory, and a guy sticks a .45 in my
      stomach and he says, "Stop." And I stop. I says, I said, "I'm just
      going over to study with my fellow student over there." I had my
      slide rule hanging down, thank God. And he said, "OK, I'll let you
      go." I thought, "My God, you know, all of a sudden everything is
      getting forbidden."

      LEE HOCHBERG: He was forced to leave school and relocated with his
      family to the Tule Lake internment camp in California. In 1944, he
      was allowed to complete his degree at the University of Wisconsin,
      where he says he was greeted warmly.

      KAY NAKAGIRI: It was a little different back there. They appreciated
      the fact there were a different nationality, but so what? They
      treated you equally. It was amazing.

      LEE HOCHBERG: He graduated in 1946. In 1947, he asked Oregon State if
      he could return for advanced studies.

      KAY NAKAGIRI: I got a letter that was real terrible. It said he
      couldn't guarantee my safety on campus. This was signed by a higher-
      up. And I tore the letter up because it made me bitter.

      JACK NOME: Like I knew Jimmy, Ike, George, Fred, Mitch...


      Undoing prejudice and suspicion
      LEE HOCHBERG: Jack Nome, who now lives in Seattle, visited Portland's
      Japanese museum while in town for the graduation. He said the
      ceremony gave non-Japanese-Americans a chance to come to terms with
      how he and his classmates were treated.

      JACK NOME: They're finally recognizing the non-white ethnic group as
      one of their own. And that's pretty good.

      LEE HOCHBERG: When the caps and gowns actually were donned, it seemed
      to be a time for recognition and rethinking.

      EDWARD RAY: Mr. Kay Nakagiri...

      You should know that Jack Yoshihara was not allowed -- not allowed --
      to play with his teammates in the Rose Bowl. But you know what?
      Jack's got his ring.

      LEE HOCHBERG: After the ceremony, Kay Nakagiri said his fears about
      returning to Oregon had been unwarranted.

      KAY NAKAGIRI: I appreciated the fact that the students applauded so
      long. I felt that you were welcome and all that prejudice and
      suspicion gone, finally.

      LEE HOCHBERG: Instead of rejecting his Oregon past, Nakagiri said,
      when he returned home, he planned to have his new Oregon State
      diploma framed.


      =============


      Former students get degrees at last
      By KYLE ODEGARD
      Gazette-Times reporter
      During a lunch before Oregon State University's graduation on Sunday,
      Jack Yoshihara showed off a huge ring commemorating the 1942 Rose
      Bowl, when his Beaver football team beat heavily favored Duke
      University 20-16.

      For him, the piece of jewelry isn't strictly a symbol of victory.

      The big game occurred weeks after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor,
      and the Rose Bowl was moved from Pasadena, Calif. to Durham, N.C.,
      because of fears of another attack. Yoshihara, who grew up in
      Portland, didn't play because the government considered him a
      security risk.

      "They told me I couldn't travel more than 35 miles," he said.

      Months later, in spring 1942, the 20-year-old sophomore was uprooted
      from Corvallis and sent to an internment camp.

      He never resumed his studies. And like many others, he never talked
      much about his heartbreak.

      "It was tough. ... I just forgot about it. It was such a sad phase
      for me," Yoshihara said.

      On Sunday, Yoshihara finally got his degree from OSU, and he got a
      rousing ovation from the crowd at Reser Stadium.

      The university's 139th annual commencement ceremony recognized 42
      Japanese-American students removed from Corvallis during World War
      II, and honorary degrees were presented to 23 of them.

      Only five attended in person. More than half of those recognized —
      OSU was only able to contact the families of 25 former students — are
      no longer living.

      "The number of people who are able to be here is pretty sad. This
      should have happened earlier," said Andy Kiyuna, an OSU senior.

      Kiyuna and fellow student Joel Fisher, who graduated with a political
      science degree on Sunday, lobbied state legislators to allow honorary
      degrees to be awarded to former students of many Oregon colleges and
      universities. A bill was sponsored in May 2007.

      Fisher said remembering history could prevent something similar from
      happening in the future.

      "As a nation, we lost sight of the fact that human rights must be
      guarded most vigorously in times of peril," said OSU President Ed Ray
      to the crowd at commencement.

      Sunday was the first time 87-year-old Kay Nakagiri had returned to
      OSU since being kicked out. The Burbank, Calif., resident, who ended
      up getting his engineering degree from the University of Wisconsin,
      was curious to see how campus had changed.

      "I think I'm more emotional about it than my dad," said son Gary
      Nakagiri.

      Mabel Takashima died seven years ago, but her four daughters were in
      Corvallis for the ceremony. The eldest, Carol Yasuda of Payette,
      Idaho, picked up her mother's honorary degree.

      "She's smiling up there right now and saying, `This is so neat,'"
      said daughter Doris Fraley of Denver.

      Former OSU students Noboru Endow, Kay Kiyokawa and Jack Nomi also
      attended in person to receive their honorary degrees.


      ============


      At Long Last: Japanese American WWII-era OSU Students Receive
      Honorary Degrees
      http://oregonstate.edu/admissions/blog/2008/06/16/at-long-last-
      japanese-american-wwii-era-osu-students-receive-honorary-degrees/


      Former Oregon State University students were recipients of Honorary
      Degrees for the university's 139th commencement ceremony. So a little
      history here: after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the
      United States Executive Order 9066 in was signed in the spring of
      1942 and over 120,000 ethnic Japanese people were uprooted and were
      held in internment campus for the duration of the war. This affected
      the lives of 42 Japanese American Oregon State University students as
      they were forced to leave campus, most of whom never returned and
      were unable to complete their degree.

      Now, six decades later and after the work of current Oregon State
      University students, faculty and staff, the affected students were
      invited back to campus to receive their honorary degrees. I was in
      attendance at the events scheduled for the degree recipients and it
      was very emotional and powerful day as you'll see form the video
      posted below. I was able to meet with Jack Yoshihara, who was a
      member of the Beaver Football team. When Jack was on the team, the
      Beavers competed in the Rose Bowl on New Year's Day in 1942. This was
      a few weeks after the bombing of Pearl Harbor and Jack wasn't allowed
      to travel to the game — the government considered him a security risk
      and his travel radius was limited to 35 miles. Also, large public
      gatherings on the West coast were prohibited and the 1942 Rose Bowl
      was moved from Pasadena, California, to Durham, North Carolina.
      Despite not being able to participate, Jack proudly bragged about how
      his team defeated the heavily-favored Duke University 20-16 and
      showed off his championship ring. You'll see him at one point in the
      video sporting his Rose Bowl varsity jacket.

      At long last, Jack and others received their honorary degrees on
      Sunday along with the current OSU graduating class of 2008. President
      Ed Ray stated "It is a great privilege for all of us at Oregon State
      University to honor our former students with their degrees. A great
      wrong was done to them and it is never too late to do the right
      thing. More importantly, we should use the memory of this sad and
      unconscionable chapter of our history to strengthen our resolve to
      stand up for each and every member of our community when we are
      tested, as we surely will be in the future."

      Those honored were: Noboru Endow, Raymond Hashitani*, Roy R.
      Hashitani*, Shigeru Hongo*, Kate Iwasaki*, Masao Kinoshita*, Kay
      Kiyokawa, Sigeo Kiyokawa*, Taro Miura, Kay Nakagiri, Tom Namba*, Jack
      Nomi, Todd Tadao Okita*, Lena Kageyama Omari*, Tommy Ouchida, Carl
      Somekawa, Aiko Sumoge*, Mabel Sadako Takashima*, Masao Tamiyasu*,
      Edward Ko Yada*, Mary Takao Yoshida, Jack Yoshihara, and Robert
      Yoshitomi. (*deceased, represented by family)

      The video is about ten minutes, but worth the watch. You'll see the
      honorees, current members of the Japanese American Student
      Association and several faculty and staff on the video. I wanted to
      get this up as quickly as possible, and I'll add some interviews with
      students and speakers at the receptions as soon as I can edit them.


      =================


      1942 Rose Bowl
      http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1942_Rose_Bowl


      The 1942 Rose Bowl was the 28th Rose Bowl game. Originally scheduled
      to be played in the Rose Bowl Stadium in Pasadena, California, it was
      moved to Durham, North Carolina, due to fears about an attack by the
      Japanese on the West Coast of the United States following the
      December 7th, 1941 Attack on Pearl Harbor. The United States
      government ordered that large public gatherings on the West Coast of
      the United States were to be prohibited for the duration of the war
      that was declared, and the first significant canceled event was the
      Rose Bowl Game scheduled for New Year's Day, 1942.[2]

      The Oregon State College Beavers defeated the host Duke University
      Blue Devils 20-16 in Duke Stadium on the Duke University campus.
      Donald Durdan of Oregon State College was named the Rose Bowl Player
      Of The Game when the award was created in 1953 and selections were
      made retroactively.[3]

      Oregon State College Beavers
      In 1941, the Beavers football team won the Pacific Coast Conference
      and a berth in their first Rose Bowl. They opened with a 13-7 loss at
      USC. A 9-6 win over Washington set the Beavers on the path to the
      conference championship. The Beavers recorded the first of five
      shutouts against #2 Stanford in California, 10-0, snapping the
      Indians 13-game winning streak. They were shut out against eventual
      second place Washington State 7-0. But the Beavers shut out Idaho,
      UCLA, Cal and Montana, outscoring the four 85-0. The final game in
      the Civil War series with Oregon had the Rose Bowl on the line for
      the Beavers, and a possible 5 way tie for first place if the Oregon
      Ducks won.[4] All five teams would have 3 losses. Oregon State would
      have the most conference wins and also the best overall record. The
      argument was moot as Oregon State defeated Oregon and Stanford lost
      at Cal, leaving the Beavers with 2 conference losses. The rest of the
      PCC had four teams with three losses and five teams with four
      conference losses.[5] Oregon State compiled the 7-2 record despite
      only scoring 20 points twice, against Idaho and Montana.

      Duke University Blue Devils
      Pacific Coast Champion Oregon State was responsible for selecting and
      inviting the opposing team. Number one ranked Minnesota was the first
      choice, but the Western Conference, forerunner of the Big Ten
      Conference, did not permit their teams to play in bowl games until
      the 1946 agreement between the Big Ten and Pacific Coast Conference.
      Duke would have been a logical second choice, but Coach Wallace Wade
      had rubbed a lot of Californians the wrong way due to his antics
      following his 7-3 loss in the 1939 Rose Bowl. The Southern California
      media championed Missouri or Fordham.[6] Oregon State responded by
      inviting Fordham, who they had beaten in their 1933 Ironmen year, but
      Fordham turned down the invite to play against Missouri in the Sugar
      Bowl. Unable to invite their three first choices, the Beavers settled
      on number two ranked and undefeated Duke Blue Devils, much to the
      chagrin of Southern California. The selection was announced on
      December 1, 1941.[7][8] Duke's defense had not allowed more than 14
      points all year. The Blue Devils were averaging a 30-point victory
      every time they took the field. In each game, the Blue Devils won by
      at least 13 points.

      Venue change to Durham, North Carolina
      With the United States' entry into World War II, on December 7, 1941,
      there was concern about a Japanese attack on the West Coast. Much
      discussion focused on the possibility of an attack where any crowds
      might gather. The Rose parade with a million watchers, and the Rose
      Bowl with 90,000 spectators were presumed to be ideal targets for the
      Japanese. Lieutenant General John L. DeWitt recommended that the Rose
      Parade and Rose Bowl festivities be canceled.[9][10][11] The Rose
      Bowl committee originally planned to cancel the game. On December 16,
      1941, Duke University invited the game and Oregon State to Duke's
      home stadium in Durham, North Carolina.[12][13]

      Game summary
      Duke was expected to win by more than two touchdowns and went off as
      a 3-1 favorite.[14] Some wondered why Oregon State would even make
      the trip. The weather, however, seemed to favor the visitors. One
      Duke player claimed that there was more rain than he had ever seen.
      The Beavers, looking up at the same sky, described the weather as
      misty. Whatever the case, Duke gave up whatever psychological
      advantage they had by fumbling the opening kickoff. The Duke defense
      would hold, but Oregon State would draw first blood on a 15-yard Don
      Durdan scamper later in the first quarter. In the second quarter,
      Duke would knot the score at seven on a three-yard Steve Lach run,
      which concluded the scoring in the half.

      The defenses, which would play brilliantly for most of the game let
      down for a three-drive stretch of the third quarter. Oregon State
      retook the lead when George Zellick scored on a 31-yard pass from Bob
      Dethman. Duke would respond by scoring on a one-yard run by Winston
      Siegfried on the following drive. In the following drive, Bob Dethman
      would find streaking reserve halfback, Gene Gray, on a 40-yard pass.
      Gray would outrace two Duke defenders the final 28-yards into the end
      zone. The extra point would be no good, leaving the door open for a
      Duke comeback.

      The 14-points that Duke put up were the most that the Oregon State's
      defense had given up all year. The Beaver defense seemed resolved to
      make sure the 20-points the offense had put up would stand up. Duke's
      offense would cross into Beaver territory three times in the fourth-
      quarter, but the Beavers would not break, intercepting two passes and
      shutting out the Duke offense the rest of the way. Duke's defense
      would tack on two when Mike Karmazin caught Dan Durden in his own end
      zone, but neither team would muster any more points.

      Aftermath
      Donald Durdan, who showed his all-around skill by rushing for 54
      yards and a touchdown, passing, and punting, was named the game's
      most valuable player.[12] This remains the only Beavers' Rose Bowl
      victory. It also remains the only time the two programs have played
      each other.

      Although many others argue that Columbia's 1934 victory over Stanford
      was bigger; Sid Feder of the Associated Press labeled it the biggest
      upset in the Rose Bowl's early history.

      After the 1942 Allied victory in the Battle of Midway and the end of
      the Japanese offensives in the Pacific Theater during 1942, it was
      deemed that the West Coast was no longer vulnerable to attack, and
      the Rose Bowl game continued on in the Rose Bowl Stadium.

      Most of the players would don military uniforms during World War II.
      Wallace Wade enlisted after the game ended and encouraged his players
      to follow suit. Both teams lost halfbacks in the Pacific Theater in
      1942, Walter Griffith of Duke and Everett Smith of Oregon State.

      After war was declared, Oregon State's star freshman end, Chiaki
      Yoshihara, was not allowed to travel more than 35 miles from his home
      in Oregon, precluding him from playing in the Rose Bowl. He would
      spend most of 1942 in an internment camp in Idaho.

      Tommy Prothro, who would go on to coach both Oregon State and UCLA in
      the Rose Bowl played quarterback for the Blue Devils.

      Tommy Prothro's backup, Charlie Haynes, and Oregon State tackle,
      Frank Parker, were rifle platoon leaders in different companies,
      sailing from Africa to Italy in 1944, when the two recognized each
      other. Later the same year, Frank Parker found Charlie Haynes with a
      fist-sized wound in his chest during the Arno Valley Campaign. Parker
      saved Haynes' life by carrying him to an abandoned farmhouse for
      medical attention.

      In 1945, during the Battle of the Bulge, Oregon State tackle, Sam
      Czech, shared some coffee and food with a fellow soldier who had not
      eaten in two days. Czech soon recognized the soldier as Duke coach,
      Wallace Wade.

      Duke Stadium, the site of the game, would later be named Wallace Wade
      Stadium in honor of the Duke coach.

      Oregon State's Gene Gray flew more than 30 bombing missions over
      Germany and continued to serve after the war. In 1948, his plane
      crashed in the jungles of Panama. He later likened his body to burnt
      steak. He had severe burns over most of his body and both his arms
      had to be amputated. Gene Gray, whose arms hauled in the touchdown
      catch which proved the deciding margin, wound up with no arms at all.



      =========


      Sizing 'Em Up: Statistical Relationships between Various Combative
      Sports in the Japanese American Communities of the Pacific Northwest,
      circa 1910 to circa 1942
      by Joseph R. Svinth
      http://ejmas.com/jalt/jaltart_svinth1_0300.htm


      I. Summary of Findings

      Conventional wisdom has it that Japanese American athletes took to
      judo and other Japanese sports before World War II because they were
      too small to participate in varsity athletics. A by-name listing of
      Pacific Northwest athletes suggests that the conventional wisdom is
      wrong. First, while Nisei athletes were shorter than their European
      American counterparts, they weighed nearly the same. Therefore they
      were at no significant disadvantage in strength. Second, at least 5%
      of the available Nisei male population earned varsity letters in
      football or high school wrestling, which is more than "very few."
      Finally, a by-name listing shows that Northwest Nisei were more
      likely to earn varsity letters than judo black belts, and more likely
      to become professional boxers than graded kendoka.

      II. Discussion

      In 1984 University of Washington sociologist Frank Miyamoto wrote
      that for pre-World War II Japanese American boys, their "lack of
      physical size was a serious handicap, and very few were good enough
      to win high school letters." [FN1] Since the typical 17-year old
      Nisei (second generation) athlete of the 1930s packed 132.3 pounds on
      a 5'5½" frame, [FN2] this generalization sounds reasonable – until
      you try to quantify it.

      For example, just how large was the Northwest Nisei's mostly European
      American competition? In 1909, the University of Washington's Dr.
      David C. Hall found that the average incoming European American
      freshman stood 5'8" and weighed 134.58 pounds. [FN3] While this was 5
      inches and 34 pounds more than the average Issei (first generation
      Japanese American), it was only 2-1/2 inches and as many pounds more
      than the average Nisei. [FN4] So while the European American youths
      may have enjoyed some advantages when playing basketball, their
      greater height was probably irrelevant in other sports provided that
      the individual players had comparable strength-to-mass ratios. [FN5]

      Of course, it is always possible that the European American students
      had better strength-to-mass ratios. To see if this is the case, let's
      take a look at how many pull-ups European and Japanese Americans
      could do.

      For decades, the US Marine Corps assumed that any healthy male should
      be able to do between 3 and 20 pull-ups. This seems to be a
      reasonable assumption, too, as in 1909, Dr. Hall's average European
      American freshman did 7.59 pull-ups, while in 1943, Kenji Arima of
      the all-Japanese Minidoka High School established a school record by
      doing 22. [FN6] Even so, doing 22 pull-ups is hardly world-class
      performance. I myself have seen people easily do more than 40, and
      for what it's worth, in 1988 a South Korean man, Chin-yong Lee, did
      370.

      So, while there are clearly enormous strength-to-mass ratios between
      individuals, I am less sanguine about differences between groups
      selected solely by ethnicity. Furthermore, if there be differences,
      then Lee's record suggests that the difference favors Asian rather
      than European Americans.

      It also turns out that more than a "very few" prewar Pacific
      Northwest Nisei earned school letters. This unexpected conclusion was
      reached by listing Nisei that the Seattle newspapers described as
      having won boxing, wrestling, judo, or kendo tournaments, or who were
      high school or college football stars. Without trying to be
      comprehensive – I read more newspapers than yearbooks -- I identified
      169 Nisei who earned high school or college letters in American
      football or Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) wrestling. Furthermore, as I
      was interested primarily in the combative sports, I made no effort to
      track Nisei who lettered solely in baseball, basketball, tennis,
      track, or girls' athletics. [FN8]

      For the available population, I used the Sixteenth Census, which
      reported that there were 3,133 Nisei aged 21 or older living in
      Washington State and Oregon in 1940. [FN9] While dozens of Pacific
      Northwest Nisei moved to Chicago or Los Angeles following high
      school, hundreds of their younger siblings entered local high schools
      between 1940 and 1942. So 3,133 could be low. On the other hand,
      about half of those 3,133 Nisei were females ineligible to wrestle or
      play football. And of course in 1947 the average age of a Seattle
      Nisei was just 20 years, meaning that in 1941 many would have been
      too young to play high school sports. [FN10] So it could be that
      3,133 is high. No matter, it remains the best figure I have.

      Dividing 169 (the number of varsity football players and wrestlers)
      by 3,133 and multiplying by 100 shows that about 5.4% of the
      available population earned a varsity letter in either wrestling or
      football. Were I to have tracked every Nisei who earned a varsity
      letter regardless of gender or sport, then the percentage would be
      higher. So more than a few Nisei became star athletes.

      Furthermore, as only a handful of Northwest Nisei became Golden
      Gloves or professional boxers, it surprised me to discover that even
      fewer became kendo champions. And, while Oregon's Hal Hoshino was
      among the best boxers of Japanese descent anywhere, Washington's best
      kendoka (the Kibei, or Japanese-educated, Kazuo Shoji and Kiyoshi
      Yasui) were simply local champions. I do not know whether the
      explanation involves the essentially non-competitive nature of prewar
      kendo or that the big strong boys preferred playing competitive
      American games to non-competitive Japanese games. Personally, I
      suspect the latter.

      Judo, on the other hand, was every bit as popular as legend has it,
      and by December 1941 there were fourteen Kodokan judo clubs in
      Washington State and another seven in Oregon.


      ========


      Recognition Deserved
      OSU honors WWII-era students of Japanese ancestry.
      http://oregonstate.edu/home/stories/index.php?story=japanese-students


      When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, the lives of 42
      Oregon State University students of Japanese ancestry changed
      irrevocably. All of them were forced to leave school during World War
      II because of President Roosevelt's signing of Executive Order 9066.
      Many ended up in internment camps, and most were unable to return to
      OSU to complete their degrees or participate in commencement.

      Now, more than six decades after the end of the war, those students
      will be recognized at OSU's June 15 commencement ceremony. Most of
      these former students since have died. But several will return to
      campus and many others — both living and deceased — will be
      represented by family members during the ceremony, where they will
      receive their honorary degrees.

      One of those students is Noboru Endow, who was a sophomore studying
      chemistry when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Even though Endow was
      harassed in his dorm immediately afterward, he never wanted to leave
      OSU. But the choice wasn't his to make. In the spring of 1942, he
      received an official letter informing him that he had five days to
      leave campus and board a bus that would take him to a Portland
      detention center. He was devastated.

      After spending a couple of days at the center, Endow was sent to a
      sugar beet farm in eastern Oregon and was later allowed to attend the
      University of Utah, where he earned his degree in chemistry. Endow,
      who is 85 and now lives in Santa Clara, Calif., thinks it is
      important for OSU to be granting the degrees. "It's good that they
      are having this to recognize people who were studying, and it is
      worthwhile for everyone to recall those events. It's hard how
      government acts during war. You want to be patriotic, but also
      reserve judgment; you can lose your civil rights easily," he says.

      OSU President Ray says public recognition of the sacrifices these
      students made is overdue. "It is a great privilege for all of us at
      Oregon State University to honor our former students with their
      degrees," Ray said. "A great wrong was done to them and it is never
      too late to do the right thing. More importantly, we should use the
      memory of this sad and unconscionable chapter of our history to
      strengthen our resolve to stand up for each and every member of our
      community when we are tested, as we surely will be in the future."

      The impetus for granting the degrees came from two OSU students, Andy
      Kiyuna and Joel Fischer. Both played key roles in pushing the idea
      for such action into law, and state representatives Tina Kotek of
      Portland and Brian Clem of Salem co-sponsored the bill. In may of
      2007, Gov. Ted Kulongoski signed Oregon House Bill 2823 into law,
      granting honorary college and university degrees to former students
      of Japanese ancestry who were displaced by the war.

      On December 12, 1941, a mere two months before Executive Order 9066
      went into effect, many of OSU's students of Japanese ancestry,
      including Endow, composed, signed and sent a letter to then OSU
      President F.A. Gilfillan. They wanted to assure Gilfillan of their
      loyalty to OSU and their pride in their country. "We will deeply
      appreciate any opportunity to prove our mettle and our devotion to
      the College and to our State and Nation. We hope that the trial of
      this supreme national test will prove a unifying and enlightening
      influence upon all Americans and their resident relatives from
      foreign lands," they wrote.

      After 65 years, their sentiments will finally be honored.

      Those receiving honorary degrees at OSU's commencement will be:

      Noboru Endow
      Raymond Hashitani*
      Roy R. Hashitani*
      Shigeru Hongo*
      Kate Iwasaki*
      Masao Kinoshita*
      Kay Kiyokawa
      Sigeo Kiyokawa*
      Taro Miura
      Kay Nakagiri
      Tom Namba*
      Jack Nomi
      Todd Tadao Okita*
      Lena Kageyama Omari*
      Tommy Ouchida
      Carl Somekawa
      Aiko Sumoge*
      Mabel Sadako Takashima*
      Masao Tamiyasu*
      Edward Ko Yada*
      Mary Takao Yoshida
      Jack Yoshihara
      Robert Yoshitomi

      * deceased


      =================


      The other Pearl Harbor
      Scott Huddleston - Express-News
      http://www.mysanantonio.com/The_other_Pearl_Harbor.html


      Today's date, Dec. 7, lives on as the day in 1941 that America was
      abruptly pulled into World War II.

      In a staggering raid by Japanese forces on Pearl Harbor, the U.S.
      Pacific fleet was devastated and some 2,400 American lives were lost.

      To Col. Edward M. Jacquet, an even greater tragedy came 10 hours
      later, about 4,500 miles west of Hawaii.

      Blood dripping from a bullet-riddled B-17 bomber that had hobbled in
      from a Japanese strike on the Philippines was his first vision of the
      nightmare to come. He was on the ground, south of the attack on Clark
      Field, when he saw the airplane's radio gunner pulled out with most
      of his shoulder blown off.

      "That<br/><br/>(Message over 64 KB, truncated)
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.