So we took the road more traveled, down toward the sea. It was one of those bright humid Japanese summer days, and that quarter inch on the map turned into a three hour hike. We stopped and looked at a lot of things along the way; had it been today we would have a thousand pictures. By that time I think Robert was wondering what on earth I had talked him into! At mid-day the streets of Hachimori were deserted. We passed a woodworking shop, some kind of meeting facility, a Toyo Tire/Suzuki garage, the train station. I imagined my mother climbing those steps and taking the train from the tiny Hachimori train station, barely a shed by the tracks. I wondered if my mother was in each home we passed. What if I was walking right by her and didnt know it? Those are the kinds of thoughts that can drive you crazy when significant parts of your life are blank. Suddenly, we were in front of a large, official looking building. Somehow, our path had led us straight to the Hachimori City Hall. OK, not really a straight path, but we were there. This was it; I just knew that we were going to find my mothers address and possibly find her that day in Hachimori. We went in and were enveloped in that cold Japanese air conditioning. God bless Fujitsu. A young clerk who spoke some English came to help us. I had some forms created by Chester Hashizumi from the Japanese American National Museum in LA saying that I was trying to reconnect with relatives and the English copy of my adoption papers. Even with Robs language degree it was hard going to tackle the language barrier but he persisted. The clerk consulted with another staff person and brought out an old ledger. He asked me some questions in English: Do you know the name Amanda Lynn Wood? Yes Do you know the name Harold Wood? Yes Do you know the name Betty Wood? Yes Then you are entitled to see this record. It felt surreal and I was weak in the knees and speechless, if you can imagine that.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Nov 2014 04:46:47 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015