Sixty-nine years ago today, my family and I were driving from Visalia to Lindsay (CA) to have Sunday dinner with my Uncle Evan.  The radio was on and we were glued to the reports of the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

The radio was all that anybody had to get those reports and I am not even sure they werent delayed in some way.   I was thinking on my morning run what that same event would have looked like to the world with todays technology.

 There was panic then but I think it would not compare in the least to what it would be in our CNN world of reporting.  It is unlikely that a œWorld War will ever be reported in our time.  It might be the œbeginning of the end with no one around for the end.  Sorry, didnt intend to be morbid.

 Back to panic.  There was definitely panic and in my area of the country, the great San Joaquin Valley of California, it affected a particular group of people perhaps the most.  They were the Japanese farmers of the region who were up-rooted from their land and placed in concentration camps in the deserts of Arizona.  These were American citizens in every sense of the word who had to leave their property in the hands of strangers and hope for the best.

 I want to talk about one of those families today, the Nanamuras.  It was the beginning of my 5th grade year, I believe, at Strathmore Union Elementary School that the Japanese were allowed to return to their homes.   Suddenly, we had a new boy in our class.  His name was Henry œHank Nanamura.  He became my friend almost immediately even though he was very shy and underneath that very angry.  Gee, imagine that.  I wonder why he was so pissed off.

 Hank Lowell Crocker, Thomas Wallace and I played on every team together from the 6th grade until we graduated from high school.  We won a basketball championship every single year.  But, I digress.

Let me tell you about the Nanamura family; this threat to our country.  There were two older daughters who I never met that were married and living in the Midwest.

The oldest boy was Frank who was wounded in the Battle of the Bulge while fighting to defend the country that put his family in a concentration camp.  Frank later took over running the home place when his Dad got too old.

 Then came Tommy.  Great high school athlete.  Rose to the level of superintendent of schools in the San Jose area before his retirement.

 Following Tommy was James.  President of the student body his senior year at Strathmore Union High School who manages the family farm to this day.  College graduate, solid businessman and human being.

 Hank was next in line.  Outstanding passer on the football team and just a good all-around athlete whatever the sport.  Worked for years for the State of California, Dept. of Agriculture.

 Last but not least came Jerry, who was a freshman when I was a senior.  The happy-go-lucky baby of the family who brought a lot of enthusiasm to life.  A University of Southern California graduate and a solid businessman. All in all their only crime was being a great American family

 I was told by Jerry that I was the first white person invited to share a meal in the Nanamura home.  I still see it as one of the highest honors anyone has given me.  We do business today with Japan on a daily basis despite the atomic bomb blasts.  Great! But those were Americans we sent to the Arizona Desert.