Midnight in Broad Daylight: A Japanese American Family Caught Between Two Worlds

by Pamela Rotner Sakamoto

On the day of his departure, his family accompanied him to Hiroshima Station, where they posed for a photograph in the glare of the midday sun. Aunt Kiyo had brought Harry’s young cousins Toshinao and Kimiko. Everyone was dressed Japanese-style, except for Harry. The boys wore their military-style school uniforms, the women classic striped kimonos; five-year-old Kimiko a smock. Harry, dapper in a three-piece suit, held a fedora and smiled. Kinu appeared drawn; a lock of hair escaped her bun. Frank, who had undergone a growth spurt and reached his big brother’s shoulders, stood close to Harry. Their sleeves touched. Normally buoyed by his big brother, Frank appeared solemn. Each person, caught up in the moment, had no inkling that this was the last time this group would ever be together. When eighteen-year-old Harry climbed the steps to the coach and disappeared inside, Frank blinked back tears. At thirteen, he was the same age Harry had been when they had moved to Hiroshima. For five years, since their father’s death, Frank had viewed Harry as both a father and brother. Never more so than now.