Born in 1939, Steveston, British Columbia Moved to Greenwood in 1942, back to Vancouver in 1958 Paternal grandfather originally from Ehime Prefecture, maternal grandfather originally from Mio, Wakayama Prefecture
Life in Greenwood
The Tasaka family relocated from Steveston to Greenwood in 1942. Before the internment, Ms. Tasaka’s father was a barber in Steveston. “We had a big and nice building, but we were relocated shortly after it was built,” she said. Ms. Tasaka was three years old at the time.
Greenwood, located in the central-southern part of British Columbia, near the American border, and about 400 kilometres east of Vancouver, was one of the government-supported internment sites. Unlike other camps, Greenwood welcomed Japanese Canadians who were forcibly relocated from Vancouver. Franciscan Friar Benedict Quigley and Franciscan Sisters played significant roles in supporting the Japanese Canadian community there.
“I didn’t have any bad experiences at all in Greenwood,” Ms. Tasaka recalled. She noted that carpenters arrived in Greenwood ahead of the internees to build essential items like beds, tables, chairs, and even Japanese-style baths to prepare for their arrival.
However, there were challenges. “The place was cold in winter in the first year because Vancouver was warm. Greenwood was deep in the mountains, so it was really cold,” she remembered. To cope, they used discarded military blankets and uniforms they purchased. “That’s how we managed because we had nothing.”
Despite the initial hardships, Ms. Tasaka found life in Greenwood enjoyable. School began promptly, run by Franciscan nuns. “That school was very good. It went up to Grade 8, and they even taught us skills like typing for jobs,” she said.
The community also organized Japanese festivals. “People wore kimonos, and there was dancing. The Japanese Canadian community also put on plays, and it was really fun,” she added. They formed a strong community because the town accepted Japanese Canadians. “The hakujin (white) residents of Greenwood were happy to have Japanese Canadian people come. They were pleased because the Japanese shared their culture, taught various things, and organized festivals. Everyone was glad.”
Even after the internment ended, Ms. Tasaka’s parents chose not to leave Greenwood. “They were happy, saying there was no town as good as Greenwood,” she said.
Overcoming Discrimination in Vancouver
After living in Greenwood for about 15 years, Ms. Tasaka returned to Vancouver. She recalls that many people left Greenwood around the age of 18 to look for work. “There were no jobs in Greenwood,” she explained. She was one of them.
By then, it was the late 1950s. Although the internment officially ended in 1949 and Japanese Canadians were free to move as they pleased, Ms. Tasaka says she will never forget the discrimination she faced upon returning to Vancouver. “The people here looked down on us. Not everyone—there were good people, too—but we all had to endure it. We had no choice but to endure it. The discrimination was really tough. It was painful to feel discriminated against. Some people were terrible, but there was nothing we could do.”
She believes the widespread discrimination contributed to why many Nisei (second-generation Japanese Canadians) stopped using the Japanese language. “When everyone came back to Vancouver, they didn’t want to speak Japanese. They tried to use English as much as possible,” she said. “Because of the discrimination, they didn’t want to show they were Japanese. At the time, we had no choice.” Now, when she speaks with other Nisei, she senses some regret in their voices as they say, “I wish I had kept speaking Japanese.”
As Sansei (third-generation Japanese Canadian), Ms. Tasaka speaks fluent Japanese. She attributes this to her upbringing in Greenwood, where they spoke Japanese at home and within the community. “Our parents couldn’t speak English, so we used Japanese,” she adds. In Greenwood’s large Japanese Canadian community, she didn’t feel discrimination there. “But when we returned to Vancouver, society was different, and we couldn’t use Japanese.”
Despite the challenges, she and her peers formed their own community in Vancouver. They gathered occasionally and enjoyed dance parties and festivals. “It wasn’t so bad, despite the discrimination,” she said. “We endured and did our best.” She added that they are still friends after 60 years.
Valuing the Japanese Canadian Community
“I still think of myself as Japanese, no matter where I am—even though I’m already a third-generation Japanese Canadian,” Ms. Tasaka said. Her paternal grandfather immigrated from Ehime Prefecture in 1890. He ran a business on Salt Springs Island, near the southern part of Vancouver Island. Her father was born there. Her maternal grandfather came from Mio, a village in Wakayama Prefecture. “Our parents passed us so many good aspects of Japanese culture. I never want to lose that.”
Ms. Tasaka, who often interacts with people visiting from Japan, shared, “I don’t know how to put it…in English, I’d say they are ‘kind’ and ‘considerate.’” Although she was born and raised in Canada and engages with other Canadians, she admitted, “I don’t know why, but I feel more comfortable with Japanese people. Maybe I shouldn’t say that, but it’s true,” she added with a laugh.
She volunteers at the Tonari Gumi, a Japanese-language volunteer organization founded in the 1970s to help issei (first-generation) and nisei seniors who struggled with English. Today, Tonari Gumi continues to provide Japanese-language services, mainly for seniors.
“I wanted to do today’s interview in Japanese,” she said. One reason is to inspire the Nisei, who often lack confidence in speaking Japanese. Another reason is to share the experiences of the Issei and Nisei, who endured hardship during the internment, directly with people from Japan who may be unfamiliar with their stories.
“Sometimes, people don’t understand the struggles (the) Issei and Nisei faced. I want immigrants from Japan to know what the Issei went through,” she explained. She hopes people in Japan take note and learn what happened to Japanese Canadians during and after the war.
Born in April 1937, Steveston, Richmond, British Columbia Moved to Taber, Alberta in 1942, stayed until 1950 Retired carpenter Parents originally from Shiga Prefecture
From Steveston to Southern Alberta
Mr. Ed Hayashi and his family left Steveston in 1942. Their destination was Taber, in southern Alberta. Mr. Hayashi says he doesn’t remember much about living in Steveston or moving to Alberta.
“I don’t remember because I was quite young at that time. So, I don’t remember leaving BC,” he said.
In Taber, his parents worked on a sugar beet farm. Why Alberta? Many of the government-supported internment camps were in BC, but Mr. Hayashi explained, “At that time, my parents had four kids. We were all one year apart.” He was the oldest, with three younger siblings. ” My parents want us to live together. And that’s why I think they chose to move to Taber, Alberta.” Sugar beet farms needed workers, and families who chose to relocate to the farms were allowed to move together.
However, the living conditions were not much better than in the internment camps. He recalled, “We lived in a company house. It was a shack. Now, those days were very cold and no insulation, no electricity.” The only source of heat was a coal stove. “It’s a stove where you have to put coal in and then heat the house. That’s all we had for heat. I remember very cold days, my mother used to have a rock, and put it on the stove and heat the rock up. And then use old blankets around the rock. And, put it beside the bed so we can keep our feet warm.”
He remembers that the water boiling on the stove would freeze over by the next morning. “That’s how cold it was,” he said. In winter, temperatures in Taber averaged around minus 10 degrees but could drop as low as minus 40. Despite those conditions, the six family members lived in a small shack without electricity or insulation. Even so, he added, “It’s a good experience of this,” with no trace of hardship on his face.
Heating wasn’t the only challenge. “There wasn’t much food,” he recalled. “We ate what we grow. I think we grew things that (would) last during the winter. My dad used to go maybe once a week shopping then. Everybody’s grocery there.” The nearest town for grocery shopping was 2 to 3 miles (about 3 to 6 kilometres) away, and his father would make the trip in an old truck. “We ate what we got. We’re not very fussed about food. We ate what was on the table. So that’s how we lived.”
A Childhood Without Feeling Discrimination
Even during the internment period, Mr. Hayashi attended school. He went from Grades 1 to 3, along with his younger siblings. They got to school by horse-drawn buggy. “I remember going to school on a horsing buggy those days,” he smiled. Although living conditions were harsh, as a child, “We enjoyed some of the things we played on the field.”
He even had a white friend. “We were small. We didn’t know too much about the war, you know? So, we had a good time, I guess in some ways,” he added.
He also attended Sunday school. “When we were small, we went to Sunday school,” he remembered. “Every Sunday, there used to be a lady that came to pick us up on her car. And take us to Sunday school in Taber, Alberta. So, we look forward to going to Sunday school. So, we learn more about Jesus Christ.”
Looking back on his school days, he doesn’t recall experiencing any particular discrimination against Japanese Canadians. “We were kids so I guess we didn’t have that much discrimination,” he reflected.
Back to Vancouver
In April 1949, after the Canadian government lifted the restriction, and Japanese Canadians were finally allowed to move freely in the country. The Hayashi family lived in Taber until 1950, when they returned to Vancouver. Mr. Hayashi’s father, who wanted to return to fishing, found a job at the Great Northern Cannery in West Vancouver.
“When we came back, in fact, we didn’t have no money to come back,” he said “So, my dad had to borrow money from his aunt to come back from Alberta to Vancouver.” His father repaid the borrowed money by working as a fisherman. Mr. Hayashi recalls that his parents faced hardships, both in Alberta and after returning to Vancouver.
In West Vancouver, they lived in a company house. He remembers that other Japanese Canadian families also lived there. At that time, Mr. Hayashi was 12 years old and attended school in West Vancouver. He and his siblings were the only Japanese Canadians attending from the cannery. All his classmates were white, but even so, he said he didn’t particularly feel any discrimination.
Later, he left school and attended a carpentry training program for a year. After completing three years of apprenticeship, he started working as a carpenter. During that time, he felt discrimination against Japanese Canadian carpenters. Since being a union member was essential for finding work, he joined in 1957. He recalls that it was a challenging time to find carpentry jobs. Although he had Japanese Canadian friends among his fellow carpenters, they never spoke about the internment period.
On the Canadian Government’s Internment Policy for Japanese Canadians
Mr. Hayashi did not directly participate in the “Redress Movement.” He remembers that well-educated individuals led the movement around 1988 and that he received $21,000 as part of the redress settlement.
When asked about the Canadian government’s internment policies toward Japanese Canadians, he said, “That’s a shame.” He added, ” I think Japanese Canadians lost everything. They lost their house. They lost your fishboat to where they work to make a living. They lost a lot, a lot of things that we never got back.”
He then shares a story about a tour he took to Salt Spring Island, organized by Tonari Gumi (Japanese Community Volunteers Association). He speaks about a Japanese man who had arrived in the late nineteenth century. “Tonari Gumi had a trip to Salt Spring Island on a tour, not very long ago and I went on that tour. And this Japanese man from Japan had 500 acres he bought. Now it’s worth a lot of money. And he never got a penny back. Isn’t that a shame?”
In the late nineteenth century saw Japanese immigrants settled on Salt Spring Island, making living through fishing and farming. But Mr. Hayashi added, “(They) lost everything. So that’s a shame.” Before the war, the Hayashi family lived in a company house, so they didn’t own a house that could be confiscated. However, their fishing boat was taken, and even after the internment ended, it was never returned.
Embracing Our Japanese Heritage
Mr. Hayashi’s first trip to Japan was in 1985, at the age of 47. He went to work as a carpenter. In Vancouver, he met a Japanese man named Mr. Suzuki, who was looking for someone to build a house in Japan. “I could speak a little Japanese,” he laughed, recalling how he was asked, “Would you be interested in building a house in Nishinomiya?”
He continued, “I start thinking myself, I’m living right now in Vancouver and got a good opportunity to go to Japan. A free trip and you get money coming from Japan. So, my job here closed down. I went to Japan. The free trip and make money at the same time and see Japan, what an opportunity.” He stayed for three months, and the house he built still stands in Nishinomiya, Hyogo Prefecture.
When asked about his first impression of Japan, he said, “Japanese people are very polite, you know, very polite people. And very nice and they try to help. I’m Japanese-Canadian. I don’t speak too good of Japanese. I got along.”
His connection with Japan continues to this day. He currently volunteers at “Tonari Gumi”, a Japanese Canadian volunteer organization in Vancouver founded in 1974. Its purpose is to assist the first-generation Japanese immigrants who, after being released from internment, were already seniors and spoke Japanese as their native language.
“I like to volunteer. I help seniors. I still help seniors. I’m senior myself. But, I’m still pretty active,” he chuckled.
He learned his Japanese from his parents. “I learned from my parents. We were talking at home so I picked it up.” It has been further polished through his work with Tonari Gumi. He added, “They speak mostly (Japanese). So, I picked it up and then I kind of get better. Every time I go out, I speak, you know, I can hear them speaking and I can understand what they are talking about.” Throughout the interview, Japanese phrases slip into his conversation.
As for Japanese culture, Mr. Hayashi believes it’s something to be preserved. “I think we should keep our culture. It’s very important that we’re still Japanese. We have culture. I think we should keep it up.” This includes the attitudes associated with being Japanese. “The Japanese people are very polite”, he continued. “And most of them are honest people. I’m saying most. And I like to keep it that way. We’re well known for good people, honest people, and hard-working people.”
Working hard is a value he inherited from his parents. He worked diligently as a carpenter, raised a family, owned a home, and considered his life a successful one. He often reflects on the hardships his parents endured, both in Alberta and after returning to Vancouver.
He has also shared the story of the internment period with his children. “They know what we went through. I talked to them.” He believes it is important to pass on the history of what happened to Japanese Canadians. Regardless of what he and his family went through, he said, “I’m still very proud to be a Japanese Canadian. I’m happy where I am.”
Born in October 1931, Vancouver, British Columbia Moved to East Lillooet, British Columbia in 1942, returned to Vancouver in 1949 Retired medical doctor Parents from Wakayama Prefecture
A Time Without Discrimination Against Japanese Canadians at School
“My childhood was spent in Vancouver, and back then, I didn’t know what discrimination was,” Dr. Horii began. Like many other Japanese Canadians living in Vancouver, he attended Strathcona Elementary School.
At the school, British-origin students were known for a sense of superiority, often used derogatory terms for their Chinese, Italian, and Jewish classmates. However, “I never heard anyone call us ‘Japs,’” he recalled. He estimates that about 50% of the students were Nisei, or second-generation Japanese Canadians.
During that time, World War II had started in Europe. A teacher at the school taught students how to knit socks and make quilts for children suffering in Britain. “Before the (Asia-Pacific) war, I was just a happy kid. I didn’t even know what discrimination was,” he reflected.
The Attack on Pearl Harbor That Changed Everything
Dr. Horii’s carefree childhood was shattered on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese military attacked on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. “The world changed. It turned upside down for Japanese Canadians.” he said. On the same day, Canada declared war on Japan.
Dr. Horii was 10 years old at that time. After the attack, everything changed suddenly. “All of a sudden, we had to quit school. Until Pearl Harbor, I was in Grade 5 in Lord Strathcona Elementary and Grade 5 at the Vancouver Japanese Language School on Alexander Street,” he said. Around 630 Japanese Canadian students were forced to leave Strathcona Elementary, cutting its enrollment in half.
He recounts the events that transpired within the Japanese Canadian community. The Canadian government mandated that all Japanese Canadians, regardless of citizenship, relocate from British Columbia’s coastal areas to locations at least 100 miles (160 kilometres) inland. Homes, cars, businesses, fishing boats, properties and other possessions were confiscated, including the fishing boat owned by Mr. Horii’s father. Able-bodied men aged 18 to 45 were forced into road labour camps at one of three sites in BC: Hope-Princeton, Revelstoke-Sicamous, or Blue River-Yellowhead. Those who refused road camp work were sent to prisoner-of-war camps in Ontario.
On January 14, 1942, the Canadian government designated Japanese Canadians as “enemy aliens,” and by February of that year, the forced relocation to internment camps had begun. Since the ten designated camps were not ready, many people were initially sent to Vancouver’s Hastings Park, where they lived in horse stalls that reeked of urine and feces. “I’ve heard that some people stayed there as late as September or October,” he said.
In addition to government-supported camps, there were also “self-supporting sites” where people lived without government assistance. Four such communities existed in BC: East Lillooet, Bridge River, Minto City, and McGillivray Falls. These sites received no government aid, requiring residents to be self-sufficient. However, families were allowed to stay together in these locations.
Life in East Lillooet
Dr. Horii began, “My parents decided to move to a self-supporting internment site.” They traveled by ship from Coal Harbour to Squamish, where they transferred to the Pacific Great Eastern Railway (PGE), now known as BC Rail. He recalls that Squamish was the southernmost terminal of the PGE at the time. After the transfer, they arrived in Lillooet the following morning. “I got up in the morning, and, we were surrounded by mountains,” he said. “I thought, “I thought, ‘Oh, gee. This is where we’re going to live.’ And I thought maybe it won’t be so bad living in this little town called Lillooet.”
However, he added, “to my surprise,” they were taken further by truck, crossing the Fraser River to a place called East Lillooet, about four miles (6.5 kilometres) away.
In the spring, his father and other men in the group began constructing tar-paper shacks. His mother, meanwhile, was busy caring for Dr. Horii and his four younger siblings. “There was no drinking water, no electricity, and no jobs because of discrimination,” he explained, as Japanese Canadians were even prohibited from entering the town of Lillooet.
Despite these hardships, families found ways to survive. Drinking water was purchased, and they built a filtration system to use water from the Fraser River for household needs. They grew vegetables such as potatoes, onions, and even burdock root (gobo). They raised chickens for eggs and sometimes bought salmon from Indigenous people. “My mother canned the salmon,” he added. Each family also built a bathhouse, allowing them to live self-sufficiently.
Many of the men relocated to East Lillooet had been fishermen, and there were few opportunities to earn a living. “The saviour for us was Tokutaro Tsuyuki, a farmer from Haney (Maple Ridge),” he said. Tsuyuki recognized that the hot, dry climate of the Lillooet region was ideal for growing tomatoes. The community began cultivating tomatoes collectively. Initially, the harvest was shipped to New Westminster, but they eventually established a tomato canning factory in the town. “That’s how we managed to survive in East Lillooet for seven years,” he added.
Life was difficult, but the men built a small elementary school for the children. “Since there weren’t any teachers, anyone who had graduated high school became a teacher for the younger kids,” he said. However, teenagers already in high school when they moved to East Lillooet couldn’t graduate initially because they weren’t allowed to attend the town’s high school.
By 1946, they were permitted to enroll in Lillooet’s high school. Dr. Horii attended, cycling the four miles to and from school daily. “In the coldest day of winter, the road was covered in ice, and when we get to the high school in town, our mouths will be covered in an ice, frost,” he recalled.
While attending high school, he worked part-time to help support his family, taking jobs at the town newspaper, on his father’s tomato farm, and at the canning factory. “It was only natural for the Japanese eldest son to help the family,” he said.
During his senior year, he returned to Vancouver to attend the UBC High School Conference with a Canadian classmate. Even as a school representative, he was required to obtain a police permit. “To come back to my birthplace Vancouver, I had to get RCMP permit. Because I’m not allowed on the coast,” he added. One evening, while walking on East Hastings Street after seeing a movie, a police officer stopped him. “I think he realized I was Japanese,” he recalled. When asked what he was doing there, he showed the officer his permit. “I’ve got a special permit to come to Vancouver,” he said. In December 1948, Vancouver was still unwelcoming to Japanese Canadians.
In 1949, Dr. Horii graduated from Lillooet High School.
Graduating from UBC Medical School While Working as a Fisherman
On April 1, 1949, the internment policy ended, allowing Japanese Canadians to move freely. That same year, Dr. Horii graduated from high school and enrolled at the University of British Columbia (UBC). “My parents allowed me to go to university,” he said. However, he was keenly aware of the financial burden. “I stayed in a dormitory,” he added, “but to save the 10-cent streetcar fare, I hitchhiked to campus.”
He took six courses per term, even though the standard load was five. “As a freshman from rural Lillooet, I was pretty naive,” he admitted with a laugh. His demanding schedule included chemistry, physics, and biology labs. “When I finished my first year and passed the exams,” he said, “I was amazed that I did okay.’”
Despite this success, he took a leave of absence after his first year to help his father. “My father really wanted to return to fishing,” he explained. Beginning in 1950, Dr. Horii worked as a fisherman, joining his father in salmon fishing near Prince Rupert in northern British Columbia. For two years, he embraced the fisherman’s life, handing over his earnings his parents. As the eldest son, he felt it was his duty to support his family. By 1951, the family had returned to Vancouver.
After two years away, he resumed his studies at UBC in 1952, again taking six courses per term. During summers, he continued working as a fisherman to assist his father, which he did until 1957.
In 1955, he graduated from UBC and, on a friend’s suggestion, applied to medical school. “To my surprise, I was accepted,” he smiled. During medical school, he faced a life-threatening subphrenic abscess. Thanks to the intervention of a university medical professor, his life was saved, but he lost a year of studies. Undeterred, he graduated in 1960.
Two weeks later, he married, and the couple embarked on a honeymoon road trip across northern United States in a Volkswagen, heading to Toronto. There, he completed a one-year internship at Toronto Western Hospital.
A First-Generation Japanese Canadian’s Story
Before the internment, Vancouver was home to a vibrant Japanese community. As the eldest son, Dr. Horii admits he was sometimes spoiled. He fondly remembers visiting a small confectionery shop on Powell Street near the Vancouver Buddhist Temple. “I used to get anpan (sweet red bean buns) there,” he said. “The shop was run by a couple named Matsumoto.” The Horii family grew close to the Matsumotos, but they lost contact after the internment began.
In 1961, when he began practicing as a doctor, the Matsumotos became his patients. It was then he learned that Mr. Matsumoto had been a Canadian war veteran in World War I. “I saw a photograph of him in uniform—tall, handsome, and strong,” he explained. “His name was Kingo Matsumoto.”
During World War I, 222 Japanese Canadians served in the Canadian military despite facing severe discrimination in British Columbia. Many had to travel to Alberta to enlist, as they were barred from joining in BC. Of those who served, 54 lost their lives. A memorial for these fallen soldiers, built by the Japanese Canadian community, now stands in Vancouver’s Stanley Park.
Japanese Canadians who served in World War I were eventually granted Canadian citizenship. “At first, the Canadian government refused, but in 1931, they relented. It was the first time citizenship was granted to people of Asian descent,” he explained. However, this recognition was short-lived. “When war with Japan broke out in December 1941, Mr. Matsumoto was labelled an ‘enemy alien,’ stripped of his citizenship, and interned,” he added.
Like other Japanese Canadian veterans of World War I, Mr. Matsumoto endured unjust treatment. Having inhaled poison gas while fighting in Europe, he suffered from lung disease. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Dr. Horii said, reflecting on the bitter irony on how the Canadian government treated men who risked their lives for this country with such cold disregard.
On Japanese Canadian Internment and Discrimination
“More towards the end of my working career, I got interested in talking about the internment and racism,” said Dr. Horii. Known professionally as Dr. Aki Horii, he built a reputation as a physician fluent in Japanese, caring for many first-generation Japanese Canadian patients. Now, he speaks to elementary and high schools, universities, and colleges, sharing his experiences and shedding light on the realities of discrimination.
Mr. Horii explains that the Canadian government’s discriminatory actions against Japanese Canadians were fueled by the prejudiced statements and attitudes of politicians. Discrimination was openly endorsed by members of the federal government, the BC provincial government, and Vancouver city officials, with federal MPs wielding significant influence.
To illustrate the depth of prejudice, he cites discriminatory remarks made by politicians and published in the Vancouver Sun:
“Japs must never be allowed to return to British Columbia.”
“The government’s plan is to get these people (Japanese Canadians) out of BC as quickly as possible. I will spend every remaining moment as a public official ensuring this happens, so they will never come back here.”
“Not a single Jap should be allowed between the Rockies and the Pacific.”
Dr. Horii also references a 2015 Vancouver Sun article that examined the events of 1942. The article explained how the attack on Pearl Harbor was used as a pretext to forcibly remove Japanese Canadians from the BC coast. For decades, BC had opposed immigrants from Asia, but federal government had resisted taking sweeping measures. However, under the guise of wartime necessity, Japanese Canadians were forcibly relocated inland. The article highlighted that the war provided a convenient opportunity to resolve a long-standing “problem.”
“That tells you all that saying the editorial that they used the military, the war Japan, as an excuse to get rid of all the Japanese Canadians from the province of British Columbia,” Dr. Horii stated emphatically. The mistreatment continued even after the war ended on August 15, 1945. That year, the Canadian government gave Japanese Canadians living in BC an ultimatum: relocate east of the Rockies or face deportation to Japan. Approximately 4,000 chose deportation, while many others moved to Alberta or Saskatchewan.
Dr. Horii underscores that discrimination can occur anytime and anywhere, leaving deep and lasting scars. He shares a personal story: “At a doctors’ meeting, one physician repeatedly used the term ‘Jap’ during the conversation. I couldn’t sleep for a month afterward.” At the next meeting, he confronted the doctor, who apologized.
“Discrimination often arises in the most unexpected places,” he reflected quietly. “This is what I tell students when I share my story.”
