During the opening months of World War II, almost 120,000 Japanese Americans, two-thirds of them citizens of the United States, were forced out of their homes and into detention camps established by the U.S. government. Many would spend the next three years living under armed guard, behind barbed wire. Life did continue behind the barbed wire. Though residents had been deprived of their most basic rights, Japanese Americans lived as normally as possible. Internees produced a wide variety of arts and crafts objects from natural materials found in and near the camps. Today's blog post by Deputy Chair and Associate Curator in the Division of Armed Forces History Cedric Yeh explores the story behind some of these small, handmade objects.
Call me a cynic or a dried-out old historian, but I don't usually expect to find romance amongst my collections. Old uniforms, firearms, and insignia aren't fertile ground for stories of first loves and engagements. Then I came across some objects on the history of Japanese Americans during WWII. They were a set of lovingly hand-crafted pins and were clearly made for someone's sweetheart. My curiosity got the better of me and I had to find out more. Who made them? Who were they for? Did the pressures of living in the camps bring them together or push them apart?
May Asaki had just turned 22 when she and her family were forced to leave their home in California and relocate to Jerome, an internment camp in Arkansas. She'd had plans to go to Hollywood and become a costume designer. But instead she found herself behind barbwire with little to do but survive and care for her family. Her mother, only 48 years old, had passed away soon after arriving at the camp, leaving May as the oldest of 11 siblings. She tried her hand as a receptionist, a nurse's assistant, and finally a clerk in the camp hospital supply room. It was there she first met Paul Ishimoto.
Paul had been assigned a job at May's hospital. When he first saw May at the receptionist desk, he felt an electric shock. He thought she had the most beautiful eyes. It was love at first sight, except May wasn't interested. He seemed older and she'd heard of him and his reputation of turning ladies' heads. With her mother gone, she had a family to take care of. She was going to make it through this difficult time and dating wasn't in the picture. Then Paul started to show up at the same events as May. He struck up a relationship with May's father. He was seen less and less around other women.
And then there were the gifts—pins, necklaces, and other carvings. Each one showed great care and feeling.
Maybe May had time for a date or two. There weren't many activities in the camps, but Paul remembered going to the movies and other times just grabbing snacks from the canteen.
When Paul found out Jerome was to be closed down, he asked the question, "Will you marry me?"
May said no.
It was heart breaking but, once again, May had to think of her family. Some of her siblings were quite young. They needed their surrogate mother. There was no room for romance. No room for another family. She looked for ways out. She asked her co-workers for their opinions. She got her father to agree that Paul wasn't the right type for her. She had responsibilities.
Then one day she found Paul in front of her barracks. He looked gaunt and almost unrecognizable. Paul hadn't been eating or sleeping. He said, "I can't live without you. You have to marry me." May recalled later that it looked like Paul had at most two to three weeks left in him. She couldn't have his death on her hands. What was a young woman to do? To paraphrase one co-worker's advice: 'Don't make a decision you'll regret for the rest of your life. Don't end up a spinster regretting the one that got away.'
Paul and May Ishimoto were married in April of 1944. They got leave from camp and went to Little Rock to buy a wedding outfit and get rings. She didn't remember how they left or returned from the camp—it was all a blur. Paul's family went into the woods to gather flowers and made the other preparations. May's father pulled off a huge surprise by creating a picture-perfect wedding cake. The wedding was attended by a small group of family.
Was this a storybook romance with a Hollywood ending? Perhaps not, but it does show that, even in the midst of being unjustly imprisoned by your own government in squalor and misery far away from home, love could persevere, overcoming sadness and turmoil.
Paul and May Ishimoto went on to lead rich and fulfilling lives. Paul went from being a prisoner to a member of the wartime spy agency, the Office of Strategic Services. This led to a career in the federal government. May had an incredible career in costume design for American Ballet Theatre, and travelled the world, earning success and accolades. She and Paul had four children of their own and were loving parents. But in the end it was the decision in Jerome that changed it all, when May said "Yes," thanks to Paul's love, a particular skill at wood carvings, and a bit of melodrama.
Cedric Yeh is the deputy chair and associate curator in the Division of Armed Forces History. He writes, "I would not have been able to tell this story without
the gracious and eager support of the Ishimoto family. All of the children and
some grandchildren contributed to parts of the above story. This is their story
as well as May and Paul's. Thank you."
You can see more photos in our Flickr set.







A great ending to a love story! They are a beautiful couple.
Posted by: Rosel | March 26, 2013 at 10:06 PM
It's a very beautiful story! The pictures tell more than 1000 words..
Posted by: Paul | March 26, 2013 at 01:52 PM
Thanks Dwight! What an amazing family story, cheers for sharing it with us! Love the photos too!
-Brad
Posted by: Brad | March 26, 2013 at 01:25 AM
Thank you for this wonderfull love stories.
Through my reading to number of bloggs and from my personal life i do believe that "love story" exist every where. Whatever the condition you put people in it: war, peace, lock them out, in a city, in relegious town, in corupted town...
That means that love do exist around us. Just like the wind. U can't feel it. But it is there.
Any way sorry for the long comment and i hope you post more of them
best regards..
Posted by: raid | March 09, 2013 at 09:03 AM
Wow, Dwight. Thank you so much for sharing this family story with us. We truly appreciate it.
Erin B.
New Media Dept.
National Museum of American History
Posted by: Erin | March 04, 2013 at 09:17 AM
My parents, Jim Onchi & Fumi Yumibe also met & married in Camp Jerome on March 26, 1944 when my dad was on a 3 day pass. My dad just passed away on January 24, 2013 @ 94yrs old, bd.ut my parents love story & pictures will live on @ the Oregon Nikkei Legacy Center in Potland.
Posted by: Dwight Onchi | March 03, 2013 at 01:03 PM
What a lovely love stories. A great inheritance despite the World War II. I think it should be made a movie.
Posted by: Lowongan Terbaru | March 02, 2013 at 04:39 AM
Truely love always persevere and overcome all kinds of sadness and turmoils
Posted by: Love sms | February 27, 2013 at 10:38 PM
Hi, Pablo. Where we wrote, "Each one showed great care and feeling if not skill," we meant that it showed great care, feeling, AND skill. We apologize for the mistake and appreciate you catching it.
Erin
New Media Dept.
National Museum of American History
Posted by: Erin | February 14, 2013 at 11:39 PM
A lovely love story. Who doesn't love a love story? But why ruin it by qualifying Paul's little gifts as made with not great skill? You make one of those cute little things with a pocket knife, buster. Don't judge.
Posted by: Pablo Stanfield | February 14, 2013 at 01:15 PM