3 days ago
A Japanese village that helped develop California's fishing industry could become container storage
From the turn of the 20th century to the early 1940s, a human-made island in San Pedro Bay held a flourishing Japanese American fishing village that helped develop Southern California's mighty seafood industry.
On Terminal Island, more than 3,000 first- and second-generation immigrant fishermen from Japan, the issei and nisei, pioneered innovative techniques, like 6-foot bamboo poles and live bait, to catch albacore tuna and sardines. Their wives cleaned and packaged their bounties in the canneries.
Then, during World War II, the entire community was uprooted and the village razed. The only remnants of the enclave are a pair of vacant buildings on Tuna Street, now dwarfed by colorful stacks of shipping containers and large green cranes that cover the island.
The buildings are now under threat of demolition to make room for more containers, leading surviving Terminal Islanders and their descendants — now well past retirement age — to come together to try to save the last tangible connection to a largely forgotten legacy.
'These buildings are an integral part of American history that should never be forgotten,' said Paul Boyea, a board member of the Terminal Islanders Association, a group of about 200 former residents and their kin.
In the past few months, advocates have made significant progress in saving the structures. In February, Councilmember Tim McOsker introduced a motion to designate the buildings as historic-cultural monuments, a status that would provide additional safeguards against demolition. In June, L.A.'s Cultural Heritage Commission will review the motion and decide whether to advance it for a vote before the City Council.
This month, the National Trust for Historic Preservation put the buildings on its annual list of the 11 most endangered historic sites in America.
Former Terminal Islanders recall scenes of families praying at a Shinto shrine and Buddhist temple, shopping at grocery stores, and watching movies and attending dances at Fisherman's Hall. Children practiced judo and played baseball.
Boyea, 69, was born after the war and never lived on Terminal Island. But he said he's always felt a strong connection to the place where his mother was born, in 1919. His grandfather was a fishing fleet captain and president of the Japanese fishermen's association.
The two buildings on Tuna Street, the commercial corridor of the Japanese village, housed the grocery A. Nakamura Co. and the dry goods store Nanka Shoten, both established more than a century ago.
Efforts to preserve the buildings began two decades ago but gained momentum last May, when the Port of L.A., which owns a majority of the island, recommended demolishing them to create more storage space.
Phillip Sanfield, the port's communications director, said that the department is working with Terminal Island advocates to hash out plans for the buildings and that no decision has yet been made.
Terry Hara, president of the Terminal Islanders Association, described Tuna Street as the 'Broadway' of the Japanese fishing community. Hara's grandfather worked as a superintendent at a cannery, while his father and two uncles all became commercial fishermen.
Terminal Island residents observed Japanese traditions, he said, holding mochi pounding celebrations on New Year's and dancing in kimonos at Girls' Day festivals.
'It was one big happy family,' said Hara, 67. 'Nobody locked their doors and families provided for one another when the need arose.'
Geraldine Knatz, a maritime expert and co-author of 'Terminal Island: Lost Communities on America's Edge,' said Japanese residents made up roughly two-thirds of Terminal Island's population in the 1930s.
The island, known in the early 20th century as 'L.A.'s Playground,' was also home to sizable numbers of artists, writers and lumber workers. 'It was a big, diverse community,' Knatz said.
That all changed on Dec. 7, 1941, when Japanese planes bombed Pearl Harbor. The government quickly arrested hundreds of Japanese fishermen on suspicion that they were using fishing boats to spy for the Japanese military. They were sent to a federal prison; many didn't see their families for months.
The following February, the remaining residents, mostly women and children, were given 48 hours to vacate the island. Around 800 Terminal Islanders were incarcerated in Manzanar concentration camp, and when they returned, almost the entire village had been bulldozed. With nowhere to live, many former residents resettled in Long Beach and the South Bay.
'The nisei didn't talk about incarceration because of the trauma,' Boyea said.
In the 1970s, a group of survivors and descendants formed the Terminal Islanders Association to stay in touch through social events like annual picnics and New Year's celebrations. Later, members became involved in preservation and education efforts, partnering with the L..A Conservancy to set up a memorial in 2002 and now advocating for the restoration of the Tuna Street buildings.
Preservationists and descendants of Terminal Island residents have suggested converting the buildings into a museum or an education center, or a general goods store for port workers on the island.
'These buildings could serve some kind of community function while still communicating their history in some way,' said Adam Scott Fine, chief executive of L.A. Conservancy.
The number of surviving Terminal Island residents is dwindling. Less than two dozen are still alive, Hara said, including his mother, who is 100. As a descendent, he feels it's his obligation to honor the legacy they created.
'This is an American story, good or bad,' Hara said. 'We need to pass on the experience that took place to our children and grandchildren.'
