Chicago

Kiyo’s story, part 9: 1944-45

Kiyo, though by that time 31 years of age, had never before lived away from her family. She had never lived outside of San Francisco, except for Tanforan and Topaz. Arriving in Chicago in the late fall of 1944 must have been both thrilling and a bit frightening.

Her brother Shig had warned her not to wear one of those Army-issued black jackets that instantly marked Nisei as “internees,” so Kiyo had ordered a tweed coat from the Sears catalog, and arrived in Union Station in October of 1944 wearing it. She stayed at Shig’s co-op until they found an apartment. Meanwhile, one of Shig’s professors put her in touch with another professor who was a consultant for a big insurance company and was looking for administrative help. She went for an interview with Professor Nimoy and was hired.

She remembers the first time she walked to her “office” (really, a one-woman office) on the 22nd floor of the Bismarck Hotel on Randolph Street near LaSalle, not far from Michigan Avenue. It was cold and icy, and she slipped trying to cross Michigan Avenue. She skinned her knees and ruined her stockings. She was mortified to show up at work on her first day in such a condition, but the secretary (who was leaving because her husband was returning from the Army) reassured her and sent her to the washroom to clean up. Then she took her to lunch.

Lorine Draeger, Professor Nimoy’s secretary, showed Kiyo what to do. She introduced her to the secretary in the law firm down the hall in case Kiyo had any questions after Lorine left on leave. They overlapped for only that one week, lunching together on most days, but Lorine’s kindness made a deep impression on Kiyo and they continued to exchange Christmas cards for decades. After Kiyo returned to San Francisco, Lorine sent her a hand-stitched apron, and Kiyo sent her a baby kimono when her first child was born. When Lorine and her daughter visited San Francisco in the early 1970s, Kiyo took them to lunch and sightseeing. Their annual holiday correspondence passed to Lorine’s daughters after their mother’s death, and then to me after Kiyo passed. I have never met either daughter, but their mother’s kindness flows through the messages in their cards and letters.

Professor Nimoy stopped by the office just twice a week, as he had a full teaching schedule at the University of Chicago. Most of the time, Kiyo was on her own. She and Shig had found an apartment in Hyde Park on South Greenwood and 55th, one with southern exposure after hearing Tomi’s reports of visiting friends in dark, rather depressing apartments. (The southern exposure was great that winter, filling the apartment with light; but the apartment would become unbearably hot the following summer.)

To get around Chicago, Kiyo would take the Illinois Central (IC), and sometimes the el. When she took the el, the seams of her stockings would turn black, and the bottom six inches of her slip would become gray from grime.

She was making about $125 a month — a veritable fortune compared to her $19 monthly wage in camp. She loved browsing in Marshall Field’s on State Street downtown, with its Crystal Palace ice cream parlor. Marshall Field’s also had the ritzier Walnut Room restaurant, with wood paneling and chandeliers, but Kiyo never ate there.

(I remember as a child how my mother and Kiyo loved Frango mints. I can still picture the green box, the small rectangular blocks with their minty milk chocolate sweetness. In researching background for this piece, I discovered that Frango mints came from Marshall Field’s (later Macy’s) — another small puzzle piece, dropping into place.)

Kiyo’s Story, part 10: Freedom

This post was originally published on September 23, 2018.
Image: © R. A. Sasaki. All rights reserved.