Historic peace churches such as the Mennonites, Church of the Brethren, and the Society of Friends (Quakers) frequently engaged in personal ministry to the evacuees during World War II.
As the evacuation proceeded week by week, Friends continued to furnish automobiles, food and storage space. . . . In many of these locations there was cooperation with several other concerned groups like the Baptists, Congregationalists, and Fellowship of Reconciliation. In one particular situation the American Friends Service Committee helped several farm families move from Palos Verdes in southern California to a large plot of land near Porterville [Tulare County] where they built shelters, dug wells and planted several acres of tomatoes. On several mornings Quakers would drive Japanese families from their homes to the assembly centers and helped to serve the Japanese a breakfast of hot rolls, coffee, orange juice and milk.[1]
Bonnie Auernheimer, a Mennonite in Reedley, California recalled those days:
Of course we did all we could to help our friends by helping getting places to store things they had to leave—I found the lists of storage places in the trunk—[My husband] Jake made so many wooden zoris for them to wear in the showers and canvas camp stools—I found a number of new canvas tops in the trunk too—I can never forget the August day that they were loaded on the trains guarded by soldiers with guns—we did serve the sandwiches and cold drinks in spite of the threats—but it was so little we could do—I can remember seeing my father reaching thru [sic] the window of the train shaking the hand of his Japanese neighbor man—both old men were crying and I thought, again we are nailing Jesus to the cross, can we never take him down for always and live in love and peace as He tried so hard to teach us?[2]
During the fall of 1942, the Aurenheimers would visit their friends in the Poston Relocation Center and brought them supplies that were hard to get like toothpaste, soap, coffee, Bibles, and on one occasion, a piano. Bonnie also wrote directly to Lieutenant General DeWitt requesting a permanent, post-war home for Japanese Americans in Reedley: “We do not feel the attitude of ‘let the government take care of the Japanese’ either Christian or patriotic. . . . [M]ost of them are our fellow citizens and should be treated as such by Christians. If each community would help, the government would not have such a hard problem of caring for them.”[3]
Ralph Smeltzer described a similar atmosphere in Lindsay and Visalia, California:
About the only immediate aid that we have been able to offer the Japanese of our community has been that of easing the evacuation strains as much as possible. This has mainly consisted of helping them get to the busses and trains, seeing to it that their baggage is properly marked and transported to the proper locations, and then giving them an early morning breakfast. In most cases the Wartime Civilian Control Administration has requested that the evacuees be at the assemblying points by 6:30 a.m. This has meant early rising and inconvenience on our part as well as the Japanese. But the sacrifice has been insignificant in comparison to the hardships being faced by the evacuees.[4]
According to Ralph’s wife, Mary,
The situation was so serious that all helpers were called together early on evacuation day to reconsider our plans and have a prayer meeting. We decided that Christianity was on trial in Lindsay that day, and we must go ahead. Our tormentors surrounded us at the train station, shook their fists, and hurled derogatory remarks, but did not harm us.[5]
On August 2, the first day of the evacuation from Visalia, over 500 Japanese were loaded on the train: “Tears came into their eyes as we told them we hoped they would be back soon. The experience was too much for us. Our feelings dictated that something must be done to demonstrate to this body of crestfallen humanity that somebody was still concerned about their welfare.”[6] Then on August 7, the final day of the evacuation, “many invalids and mothers with new babies were sent out. The bed-ridden patients were hoisted through the windows of the train coach. The sight and sound of the pain and sorrow was almost more than any one person would bear.”[7] Smeltzer related his eyewitness account of one particularly pathetic scene:
A Chinese husband [named Lew Wah] was being separated from his Japanese wife and two children. Another child was expected soon. He was taking it very hard. Tears ran down his cheeks. . . . [as] the fellow was discouraged to the point of absolute despair. Hope for the future and faith in people were gone. The world had treated him too unjustly I there was no place to turn for help. Both his and her parents had disowned them. His Visalia and Hanford school friends had ostracized him. As if this were not sufficient his car had been stolen and its tires removed. He was an intelligent fellow but few characters could have stood his test.
We attempted to reason with him and help all we could. Our success was limited. We did persuade him to exchange his bottle of whiskey for a soft drink and to promise to try to drink no more. Our friendship helped him to get a great number of pent-up feelings off his chest. It was a heart-rending experience for all of us. Regardless of how we tried, we could recall no tribulations of our own as great as his. How could we fully realize his discouragement! Our sympathy and understanding can only be expressed by uniting him and his family. Perhaps we can accomplish it through government negotiation. We shall try.[8]
Another Quaker, Tom Bodine, movingly described the evacuation from Seattle:
Only 1000 Seattle Japanese remain to be evacuated. For the last four or five days they have been leaving by the hundreds at 9 in the morning (assembling at 7 and 7:30 and at 2 in the afternoon). . . . This afternoon the first trainload of Japanese from the White River Valley farming country left for Pinedale California. I was down to see them off, and my heart split wider than it has for any of the others at the time of departure. No Pullmans this time. . . . Just old ratty coaches for a 2 day 2 night trip to California. . . . The roofs of the coaches were covered with bird dung. . . . The windows were like a car windshield on a misty day. . . . The Japanese were their cheerful selves: stoicism is a wonderful thing for circumstances like these. Think of what these people have been doing: The past week standing in line, first to register, then for physical exams. The last frantic arrangements, selling, storing, dispensing with precious possessions, leaving pets and gardens behind, then the last night, most of them up until 4 and 5 AM packing, getting everything ready for the early morning departure, everything neatly labelled and properly boxed. Then for a few hours sleep on the hard floors of a home empty of furniture, no beds or mattresses; these sold or stored. Then up at six or so and get the children ready, dress in your best clothes, come down in the pouring rain of a cold dreary day, stand in line and mill around in the confusion of departure for an hour and a half, then load into the busses and at last we’re off. And all with a smile . . . and pretending it’s a lark. “California, here we come.” . . .
One morning I watched a dark black negro fellow drive a Japanese family up in a fine new Plymouth. He helped them unload and then stood next to them on the sidewalk and in his beautiful deep throaty voice said, “Well, ma’am, I’ll be saying goodbye. You know that if there’s ever anything I can do for you whether it be something big or something small, I’m here to do it.” And he shook her hand and then turned to the husband and slapped him on the back: “Goodbye now and good luck.” And then down on his hands and knees for a final farewell to the three little kids.[9]
Many Nikkei fondly recalled the kindnesses demonstrated by the Quakers. As Rev. Chiaki Kuzuhara remembered, “When we were escorted onto the military-occupied trains, there was bread and drinks waiting on top of each seat. At the time, we had no idea who had prepared these things for us, but when we later found out that it was the Friends, a deep feeling of gratitude towards them burned within us.”[10] Former missionary to Japan, Junichi Tsukamoto, added,
On May 29, 1942 Japanese Americans from San Jose, California silently followed the road to the train station. They were heading to one of ten relocation camps located around the West Coast. After the attack on Pearl Harbor 120,000 Japanese Americans were branded as hostile foreigners. Their jobs, assets, and dreams were snatched away, and they were driven out of their homes. In the midst of a strange calm, they walked that road clutching only what luggage they could carry in their hands, weighed down by the heaviness of their hearts. When they reached the station feeling despair and disappointment, their eyes found a single tent. It was a booth that the Quakers had set up. The Quakers had prepared coffee and doughnuts for those who were about to begin a long journey. During a time when the whole nation was drenched in anti-Japanese sentiment, their ministry seemed a small token of care. Yet even after 60 years, the deep emotion that those Japanese Americans had felt at the time is still chiseled in their hearts in appreciation of those “Unforgettable Patrons.”[11]
The Quakers rose to action out of their deep Christian convictions to care for hurting people. As Jesus taught his followers, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40). Likewise, Jesus’ disciple John wrote, “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” (1 John 3:17). So also, the Friends felt personally responsible for their brothers and sisters made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27).
As this Twentieth Century Exodus of our Japanese neighbors proceeds and homes are broken up by the thousands; as businesses often of many years standing close down; as school and church and community ties are disrupted; as busy, useful citizens and their Japanese-born parents are lifted out of a normal life—Friends on the West Coast have said, by deed as well as by word: “I am my neighbor’s keeper [see Genesis 4:9].”[12]
Esther Rhoads described how members of the Pasadena Friends Assembly woke up at three a.m. to bring butter rolls and milk to the park for children waiting to be evacuated. Rhoads also drove her own car to a nearby convalescent home to help evacuate four feeble-bodied Issei who were unable to climb onto the buses or trucks. Throughout the internment, she “fought for legal aid and other privileges to be made for Japanese Americans.”[13] Gerda Isenberg took bread and coffee to evacuees in San Francisco who were on their way to the camps. Isenberg also responded to the requests of the internees at the Tanforan Assembly Center and acted as caretaker for their property and possessions. Others assisted the Nikkei through financial means:
Esther Boyd, a Wapito, Washington, merchant, whose customers had been largely Japanese American farmers, testified favorably before the Tolan Committee, extended credit, contributed materials, and kept in touch with her friends within the camps. She was also very helpful in looking after property left behind and in easing the return home after the camps closed. . . .
Ray Roberts, a Seattle merchant and member of the Church of the People, not only opposed the evacuation and internment but was most helpful in providing sponsorship and in finding jobs for relocatees. He loaned money interest-free to several families to establish new businesses, and he organized a cooperative farming project near Spokane which served a number of families with income-producing employment and as a hostel for those seeking work.[14]
The Friends were friends indeed because they considered all persons to be fellow image-bearers of their Creator and were bound by Christ to care for their brothers and sisters in the family of God. According to James, “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?” (James 2:15-16). Thus, the Friends demonstrated their Christian faith by doing good works on behalf of friends in need (vv. 17-26).
[1] Lord, “Peace Churches,” 33-34. The historic peace churches experienced their own alienation during World War II for their pacifist views. Some, like the Mennonites, retreated from society and kept mainly to themselves. Others, like the Friends and the Church of the Brethren, ministered faithfully to their Japanese American brothers and sisters in Christ. They intentionally sought opportunities to serve like Jesus before, during, and after the war. Their Christian convictions led them to respond compassionately and to treat the Nikkei as they themselves would be treated (Matthew 7:12).
[2] Interview with Bonnie Auernheimer (19 April 1974), cited in Lord, “Peace Churches,” 55-56.
[3] Letter from Mrs. J. C. Auernheimer to Lt. Gen. J. L. DeWitt (23 March 1942), Box 92/Fld 601, RG 338 WDC, NARA II.
[4] Ralph E. Smeltzer, “Report No. 3 – To the Brethren Service Committee Upon Japanese American Relations” (8 June 1942), in the Ralph Smeltzer Collection (Elgin, IL: Brethren Historical Library and Archives), Box 23.
[5] Mary Blocher Smeltzer, “Japanese American resettlement Work,” To Serve the Present Age, ed. Donald F. Durnbaugh (Elgin, IL: Brethren Press, 1975), 124.
[6] Smeltzer, “Report No. 5” (11 September 1942).
[7] Lord, “Peace Churches,” 59.
[8] Smeltzer, “Report No. 5.”
[9] Letter from Thomas Bodine (11 May 1942), Conrad-Duveneck Collection, Hoover Institution Collections of War, Revolution, and Peace (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University). Bodine would later serve as the field director of the National Japanese American Student Relocation Council (NJASRC), which would help Nikkei college students relocate from the camps to college campuses.
[10] Personal recollection cited in Sugimura, Quiet Heroes, 2.
[11] Junichi Tsukamoto, 2002 Christmas edition of the Kirisuto Shinbun (Christ newspaper), cited in Sugimura, Quiet Heroes, 1-2.
[12] Japanese American Relations Committee, Pasadena AFSC Information Bulletin 5 (18 May 1942). Many such as G. Raymond and Gracia Booth, also worked for the AFSC’s Pasadena office during the eviction. The Booths primarily visited the Tulare and Santa Anita Assembly Centers and the Manzanar Relocation Center. Raymond was eventually appointed as WRA representative for Cincinnati and helped to establish a hostel there for resettlers. Gracia exhorted Christian women with her article, “How Can We Help Japanese American Evacuees?” published by the American National Christian Church Conference (November 1944).
[13] Esther Rhoads Commemorative Publishing Committee, Footprints of a Quaker (Tokyo: Waseda University Publishing, 1980), 71-74.
[14] Schmoe, “Seattle’s Peace Churches,” 120-21.
