In Honor of Kay Jen and Yun Yee Tom

My grandfather, Kay Jen Tom, was born on October 10, 1909, in the Toishan region of China near the city of Canton (now Guangzhou).[1]  He was either orphaned or sold into servitude around the age of 8. Then in 1924, like many young men his age, Kay Jen fled the poverty of southern China to seek his fortune in the land of “gold mountain.” At 16, he stowed away aboard a ship which docked at the Angel Island detention center in the San Francisco Bay. He was detained and interrogated for ten months before being permitted to disembark and begin his new life in America. He hopped railway cars and trekked from place to place for the next twenty-four years, serving as a cook in hotels and restaurants from California to Montana.

He eventually became a U.S. citizen and received a commendation for meritorious duty. He served as a cook on an American Survey Team during the WWII years before Alaska became a state. After that, he leased a cafeteria from the Continental Can Company in East Oakland (just across from the Coliseum). He never had the chance to attend school, so he worked hard to make sure his future children had that opportunity.

Chinese women had been excluded from about 1870-1943 to control the Chinese population in America, while anti-miscegenation laws restricted interracial marriage. As a result, many men remained bachelors for years. By the late 1940’s, however, it became legal for Chinese men in America to bring over wives from the mainland. So in 1949, Kay Jen sent his picture to the village matchmaker in Toishan in order to find a bride. As the fourth daughter in a poor family, Yun Yee agreed that marrying a handsome, young man would be better than laboring in the rice fields. They met in Hong Kong for a civil ceremony and were married in May 1949, just a few months before China became a communist country. She was 24 (born March 3, 1925) and he was 39 (surprisingly, ten years older than the picture he had sent).

They lived in a cheap hotel without a private bathroom while my mom was still an infant, then moved to a rented house on Ruby Street in West Oakland. In 1954, they eventually bought their own home in East Oakland (6600 Lucille St.) and, three years later, sent my mom and her brother, Bill, to the new Chinese Bible Church on Wakefield Avenue.

My grandparents worked long hours (Monday through Saturday) with Sunday as their only day of rest, so they did not go with their children to church. Yet although they were not Christians themselves, they were grateful for church members who picked up their children and brought them home every Sunday. Whenever the church had special fundraisers or Thanksgiving banquets, Kay Jen and Yun Yee were always eager to participate. They encouraged their children to attend the church summer camps because they had no money or time for vacations as a family.

Although Kay Jen believed that ancestor worship was fake, Yun Yee would sometimes offer sacrifices or burnt incense to placate the demons and receive good luck. Unlike most Chinese, however, she did not keep pictures or statues of the gods in the home. My grandma was also very resourceful. She went to night school to learn English and became a U.S. citizen when my mom was in the 8th grade. This was a remarkable accomplishment because Yun Yee had only received two years of schooling in China and had to memorize the entire book to get all the answers correct. She also learned to drive the family car and found work as a salad maker at Mills College in Oakland after my grandpa died. In order to do her job well, she had to memorize all the recipes.

Little by little my grandparents heard the gospel as their children brought home Christian literature and gospel tapes in Chinese. The pastor of the church, Louis Lightfoot, even made a special effort to become friends with Kay Jen. This friendship blossomed when Pastor Lightfoot waited at the hospital to make sure Kay Jen was alright after undergoing surgery. This remarkable show of concern broke my grandpa’s reserve and earned his trust. He was so touched that he commented, “No white man ever cared for me like that.” He was ready to become a Christian. Kay Jen had experienced a nation highly prejudiced against all Asians, so he came to expect nothing good from “white people.” He claimed it was better to be your “own boss” in your “own business,” which is why many Chinese started their own laundromat, corner store, or small restaurant during the 1950-60’s. It was only when the children of those immigrants, who later went to college, were able to find professional jobs that the standard of living for the Chinese increased from poverty to middle class.

In September 1970, both Kay Jen and Yun Yee accepted Jesus Christ as their Savior. Pastor Lightfoot led my grandpa to the Lord while Mrs. Alice Go helped my grandma (in Chinese) to make her profession of faith. Soon after, they were both baptized and became weekly attenders of the Bay Area Chinese Bible Church (which had since moved East 29th street). My grandma claimed that being a Christian lifted her burden of appeasing the demons to have “good luck” in life.

Kay Jen died September 7, 1978 at 69 years old (three weeks before I was born). Yun Yee was able to meet all five of her grandchildren before she too died on December 3, 1987 at 62 years old. Both are buried at Mountain View Cemetery in Oakland and now reside in heaven as they wait for our arrival.

[1] This guest post has been adapted from my mom’s recollection of her parents’ history. I was named after my grandpa (who always went by Tom) because he died three weeks before I was born. My mom was influential in leading both “Toms” to the Lord.