Salem’s Japanese community emerged around 1920 when Roy Kinzaburo Fukuda emigrated to 
the Salem area. Fukuda (pictured right) had lived near Brooks since the early 1900’s, and around 1920 had come to farm the fertile black soil of the Lake Labish area north of Salem. He had come on the invitation of Madison Lafayette (known as M.L.) Jones, a Salem landowner and legislator, who had spent years draining the swampy marshes of the Lake Labish area. Jones admired Fukuda’s strong work ethic and character, and so selected him as the first tenant farmer of the new land.
Fukuda then recruited friends who he had met while farming and working on the railroad, as well as a few who then lived back in Japan. Jones made arrangements to lease 100 acres of land to Fukuda, who then leased small portions of it to those who had answered his call. This community would grow to about 36 families, or 250 people, by the early 1930’s.
These Japanese farmers brought with them the tradition of greenhouse farming, an important tool for communities located in the mountainous regions of Japan where soil was poor and a controlled climate in which to plant crop starters was a huge advantage. For centuries this technique had allowed them to grow crops even in Winter. In the rich soils of Lake Labish, this labor-intensive technique allowed these farmers to produce two crops a year of celery and lettuce, which were among the most valuable crops in the country at the time. The farmlands of Lake Labish became best known for their celery crop, largely of a variety developed by Mr. Fukuda himself known as “Golden Plume.” It was regarded by many to be among the most preferred varieties of celery due to its delicate taste. Hundreds of loaded railcars carried the prized crop as far as the east coast every year. Fukuda eventually formed a co-op with other farmers, the Labish Celery Farm Growers Union, to meet the high demand, and a second was formed later as growth continued.
As the community grew, Fukuda also opened a general store and gas station. Two community centers were also built, Fukuda Hall and Ogura Hall. Another important institution was the Japanese Community Church. Maye Oye, who grew up in the community, said of the church, “All of my social activities were centered around the Japanese American Christian Church. The church was a place to gather, not only for worship and study, but for many social activities.” The church also provided kindergarten classes in addition to church services in English and Japanese, was a centerpiece of community activity, and would remain significant to the community leading up to its tragic collapse in 1942.
The Japanese Community Church of Salem had humble beginnings, at first being just a few congregants meeting in the apartment above Watanabe Cleaners, home to Suyekichi Watanabe, which was located at 345 Union St. NE, the present location of the Union Gospel Mission. The pastor of the Japanese Methodist Episcopal Church in Portland would come twice a month to hold services in the evening (the most suitable time for farmers). Five years later the church constructed their first house of worship east of Woodmen Hall at Chemawa Indian School, and then moved in 1929 to the Hayesville Baptist Church building. In 1936 they purchased the former United Bretheren Church property in Hazel Green as their permanent home, with help from the Federation of Interdenominational Societies (later the Salem Council of Church Women), who would prove to be a key community partner in friendship. “I always attributed the acceptance of the Japanese here to the Church Women in Salem,” said Henry Yoshikai, “we always had a strong church here and I think that helped.”
Rev. Andrew Kuroda was to be the last in a line of pastors who served the Lord’s call at the Japanese Community Church. In May of 1942 he wrote a long letter to friends and colleagues in the Salem area in protest of what he knew at this point was almost unavoidable; internment. December 7th, 1941 had completely undermined the Japanese American way of life in the United States, and Salem had not escaped that. Prior to Pearl Harbor, Salem residents of other ethnicities had largely respected the Japanese community, other than that the law forbade first-generation residents from owning land, marrying non-Japanese individuals, and becoming citizens. Businesses like Fukuda’s celery co-op and the Japanese Hand Laundry were well-visited and esteemed facets of Salem life. A 1921 article in the Oregon Statesman praised Roy Fukuda as “an industrial and useful American, a good neighbor and anxious at all times to be helpful to his district and the whole country.” However, as it was with all non-white communities in Salem and in Oregon of this time, racism and fear were still ever-present among Salem’s “native born” community.
Japanese American residents and businesses did their best to affirm their loyalty to their country after Pearl Harbor. The proprietors of the Japanese Hand Laundry went so far as to cross out the “Japanese” in their name in an ad they placed in the Capital Journal affirming their loyalty to the United States. The Salem Civic League of Japanese-Americans issued a similar statement, saying “We, the American citizens of Japanese racial extraction reaffirm our undivided loyalty … against this unprovoked aggression.” Despite these efforts, however, unwarranted and sometimes violent backlash plagued Salem’s Japanese residents.
The government set a curfew for all residents of Japanese descent, restricted travel, and confiscated all cameras, radios, and weapons. The FBI deemed around 2,000 Japanese residents “suspicious,” removing them to Justice Department camps. Among them were Roy Fukuda and his brother. In Salem, businesses and community organizations suffered greatly from the attitude of distrust. Francis Kunihiko Tanaka’s Tokyo Sukiyaki’s booming lunch crowd dwindled to almost no one. Vandals came and smashed his windows and neon sign, and the restaurant was forced to close in February of 1942.
Area residents recount perhaps the most shocking incident of backlash against Japanese Americans in the Salem community. On the night of December 7th, 1941, the day of the Pearl Harbor attack, word reached Rev. Kuroda that members of a prominent veterans’ organization was planning to come and burn down the Japanese Community Church. Friends of the church, among them two Methodist ministers, came to stand in defense of the church. One of them, a willamette student at the time, recounts the harrowing experience. “I still see that long line of lights of their cars, lining up on the side of 99E,” he said. “They had guns, clubs, the works; and their intent was to ‘burn those Japs out!’” Among those who stood in defense of the church was Dr. J. Edgar Purdy, Superintendent of the Salem District of the Oregon Methodist Conference. A World War I veteran himself, Purdy asserted that he had lost a lung at the Battle of Marne to make the world ‘safe for democracy,’ and that he would not stand for this kind of intolerance. “[Dr. Purdy] ended by reminding them we were all soldiers, of the army of Jesus Christ, who had fought such bigotry for 2000 years,” adds the Willamette student. “We are only five that stand here against you,” he recalls Purdy saying, “but […] you’ll have to go over us first, and tomorrow, you’ll be the sorriest men in Salem.”
Dr. Purdy and his wife, Mary, were longtime friends of the Japanese Community Church and of Rev. Andrew Kuroda. They were among the recipients of the reverend’s letter protesting the imminent internment of his people. Mary wrote a letter of her own regarding the worsening circumstances of her Japanese friends.
“We are feeling sick at heart because of the increasing pressure that is daily being brought for the removal of Japanese from all Pacific Coast areas. We have been very close to the Japanese pastor of a suburban church near Salem [Rev. Kuroda] … The restrictions which went into effect today make it impossible for him longer to come to our house since we live practically across the street from the State Capital.”
The “restrictions” of which Mrs. Purdy spoke were those enacted by Public Proclamation No. 1. Issued February 19th, 1942 by General John L. Dewitt, this first proclamation under President Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066 created Military Areas 1 and 2. Area 1 encompassed the western half of Washington, Oregon and California, and the southern half of Arizona. Area 2 included areas around airports, dams, power plants, harbors, and military installations. Individuals of Japanese heritage were restricted from entering or occupying these areas, which not only hindered their mobility and quality of life but forced many to leave their homes.
120,000 Japanese Americans were ultimately obligated to leave behind all that they knew, and undertake a long and arduous journey to one of several isolated internment camps. Bringing with them only what they could carry on their backs, usually no more than fifty pounds of possessions, they could expect to find little more than a military cot and a stove in the drafty barracks that would be their new home. The desert climate in which these camps were constructed was harsh, and their residents faced extreme temperatures with inadequate protection from the elements. Food was limited and of poor quality, as was healthcare. These camps truly were prisons.
The entirety of Salem’s 244 Japanese residents were shipped off to Tulelake internment camp on June 1st, 1942. Despite the best efforts of many, the tide of fear and racial distrust sweeping the nation was unstoppable. Salem’s Japanese community, however, was not abandoned.
Salem’s Christian community showed great support for their brothers and sisters in Christ. The Salem Council of Christian Women penned a letter calling on our city’s faith community “to express their Christian Fellowship to fellow Japanese Christians at a time such as this.” The Council also sought to help pay off the Japanese Community Church’s debt, and looked after their building and belongings while they were away, until it became apparent that the church would be closing for good.
Out of the dozens of Japanese families that left Salem for Tulelake, only five returned: the Fukudas, Yadas, Yoshikais, Ishidas, and Takayamas. Salem’s Japanese community in the Lake Labish area has never recovered the cultural vibrancy of its heyday. Under the Civil Liberties Act of 1988, justice won a small victory in the formal apology of the US Government for their actions and payment to 60,000 surviving internees for their losses. But long before that, justice made its name known in the works of those who stood up for their Japanese brethren, be they of faith or not. These brave men and women spoke out against wrongdoing, and though in the end they faced defeat, history will always remember their steadfast commitment to what was right.
Picture: Roy Fukuda http://www.keizertimes.com/2014/11/21/kpic-looks-to-celebrate-japanese-celery-farmer/