Return to Little Tokyo

Rituals, Old and New: Among the contemporary uses for the courtyard of one of the oldest buildings in Little Tokyo, the Koyasan Buddhist Temple, is as an impromptu touch football field. "We want to show the way for newer immigrant groups to retain their heritage as well as being American," says one community leader. Photo by Carrie Cavalier

By Julie Shiroishi

Tucked behind the newer buildings on Los Angeles’ East First Street, the 86-year-old Koyasan Beikoku Betsuin belies the enormous changes which time has wrought over the surrounding Japanese ghetto known almost since its inception a 100-odd years ago as "Little Tokyo."

The Buddhist temple is an entryway flanked by manicured shrubs and decaying stone prayer tablets and Buddhas. Within its heavy, wooden doors, robe-clad monks perform a daily service in Japanese and Boy Scout Troop 379 holds its regular meetings, as it has since the 1920s. In the temple’s now asphalt-covered driveway, film noir fans would recognize the paper-lantern lined alley that James Shigeta strode through in the 1950s film, Crimson Kimono."

But such echoes of even the relatively recent past are rare in most of Little Tokyo. Back on East First Street, a glance in either direction provides evidence of numerous redevelopment projects started in the late 1960s and continuing through today.

During its heyday, from 1925 until 1941 when the mass internment of all people of Japanese ancestry left it a virtual ghost town, Little Tokyo spread out to occupy roughly three square-miles in the heart of downtown Los Angeles and was home to well over half of Southern California’s 35,000 Japanese. But, while 18.8 percent of the 847,562 Japanese Americans in the U.S. live in the Los Angeles and neighboring Orange counties according to a 1991 Japanese American Community League (JACL) census, the Little Tokyo area proper has dwindled to a scant four square-blocks with only about 1,000 residents-mostly elderly, fixed-income Japanese who, like 69-year-old Yoshitaka "Bones" Kuwahara, spent their youths in Little Tokyo.

Since 1903: "New buildings came in to beautify the area, but we lost a lot of the old mom-and-pop shops and some of the warmth and closeness," said Brian Kido, whose family business, Fugetsu-Do, has weathered 93 years of change in Little Tokyo, making it the oldest area-business still in operation. With two outlets-one a quaint storefront on East First Street and the other in the airy and air-conditioned Yaohan Plaza shopping mall-he is optimistic about Little Tokyo’s future.

In the Club Koma, an East First Street bar where he often gets together with other old-timers, Kuwahara reminisces, "I was born and raised around here. After the camps, I never gave a thought to not coming back. I got back here right after Christmas in 1945. It was called Bronzeville then because it had become an all-black neighborhood, but every day Japanese were coming back." Laughing, he reasoned, "I’m just not the adventurous type. I set my roots in one spot and can’t get away ."

Kuwahara was one of the fortunate ones. He didn’t need to leave. Lisa Sugino, of the nonprofit Little Tokyo Service Center Community Development Corp., an organization aimed toward increasing the amount of available housing, outlined the changes Little Tokyo has undergone. "In the ‘50s and ‘60s, Japanese Americans became suburbanized just like White America ... that’s when Little Tokyo started declining," she explained.

"The area succumbed because, overall, the rest of downtown was just a pit. Some of the small businessmen around here said, "We’ve got to do something because Little Tokyo is just going down the toilet.’"

This was in the late ‘60s when, Sugino said, the smaller Japanese American businessmen thought they could control the urban renewal process. Japanese Village Plaza, a shopping mall, was the central theme building put together by a cooperative of Japanese American businessmen. Another recent landmark, Little Tokyo Towers, a low-income housing project for the elderly, was built by a consortium of nonprofit groups.

At the San Pedro Street border of Little Tokyo, a parking lot affords an unobstructed view of the hazy Los Angeles skyline. And, in fact, there are numerous empty sites and cut-rate parking lots immediately surrounding the Little Tokyo area.

Sugino explained: "Then the Japanese corporations came in to build office buildings and hotels and tear down buildings like the Sun Building, [the former home to various community organizations and Japanese culture groups], and apartment buildings where old people lived. A lot of the luxury projects that were planned for the land by private, international developers never happened because the economy took a downturn and now these corporations are sitting on the land."

Brian Kido, the main organizer of the Little Tokyo Anti-Crime Association and a local business owner, concedes that redevelopment was a plus and a minus.

"New buildings came in to beautify the area, but we lost a lot of the old mom-and-pop shops and some of the warmth and closeness," said Kido. Yet, with the perspective of someone whose family business, Fugetsu-Do, has weathered 93 years of change in Little Tokyo, making it the oldest area-business still in operation, Kido is optimistic about the area’s future.

"Lately," he added, "it’s started to change back because of the real estate slump and the community’s starting to get back to the way it used to be, and the close sense of community is why Little Tokyo has survived all these years."

Fugetsu-Do, one of the first shops to cater to a primarily Japanese clientele, opened in 1903 and specializes in manju-the sweet bean pastries encased in sticky rice which a Japanese sweet tooth craves. "It was my grandfather’s business," said Kido. "He ran it for 40 years and then my father ran it for 40 years. I took over about 10 years ago."

Come For The Sushi: Little Tokyo remains a favorite dining spot for locals and visitors.

With its two outlets-one a quaint storefront on East First Street and the other in the airy and air-conditioned Yaohan Plaza shopping mall-Fugetsu-Do embodies both of the dominant personalities of contemporary Little Tokyo. And while Kido’s business degree probably helps, the shop seems especially graced with some of the area’s resilience.

Despite the dramatic decline in resident population, the unlikely combination of fierce grassroots activism and multimillion-dollar Pacific Rim investments has ensured that Little Tokyo will never disappear into the Los Angeles sprawl.

In today’s bustling scene, tourists from Japan pose for photos next to a five-feet-tall stuffed Mickey Mouse. With an American flag fluttering overhead, they purchase Coach bags and Gucci scarves in the opulent Weller Court shopping mall.

Native Los Angelenos, meanwhile, grab lunch at one of the numerous local sushi bars or ramen houses, attend services at one of the eight local temples and churches, or hurry to classes at the JACCC.

But while tourists and locals may park in the same structures and walk the same streets, rarely do the twain meet.

Kathy Masaoka, a member of the National Committee on Redress and Reparation (NCRR)-which holds monthly meetings at the JACCC and sponsors special events in the area-suspects that, like her, "[non-tourists] don’t even pay attention to some of that stuff. Like the New Otani, [a 434-room luxury hotel built in 1977] ... I just don’t even notice it."

More popular with Japanese Americans is the Japanese American National Museum on the corner of East First Street and Central Avenue. Opened in 1992 and staffed primarily by volunteers, the museum is the only one of its kind in the United States and hosts readings and performance art by contemporary Japanese American artists, and features exhibits on Japanese American history. The Legacy Center permanently houses a memorial to World War II camp internees, and visitors can research the microfilm and computer databases for information on formerly interned relatives and friends.

"There are problems [for Little Tokyo]," says Masaoka. "Orange County, Torrance, and Gardena-[areas with a large Japanese American population]-are developing their own cultural centers and people are reluctant to come down at night. [Given the area’s adjacency to L.A.’s Skid Row], people don’t feel that safe. However, Little Tokyo-with the museum, the JACCC, and the theater-will always remain the focal point."

Little written history of pre-World War II Little Tokyo culture remains, due primarily to wartime disruptions. Asian American historian Ichiro Murase prefaced his 1984 book, Little Tokyo, with an explanation: "Many of the prewar photographs in private hands were destroyed in haste after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, or lost and damaged during evacuation."

Nevertheless, Murase’s book, which is based on pieced-together oral histories and the archives of the Rafu Shimpo-the community’s still-thriving, 93-year-old English/Japanese language newspaper-remains the best source of the area’s general history.

In 1885, the first Japanese-owned business-ironically an American-style restaurant-opened on Los Angeles Street, modern-day Little Tokyo’s westernmost border. At that time there were only about two dozen Japanese living in Los Angeles-all men. The Japanese, like most early immigrants to the West Coast, entered the United States through San Francisco, which was then a larger, more established town than Los Angeles and which boasted a Japanese Consulate available to aid newcomers unfamiliar with American laws and prejudices. Most Japanese initially chose to stay in Northern California.

Later, Los Angeles’ booming growth increasingly attracted Japanese workers-most of whom were younger sons without hopes of an inheritance in their homeland and eager to make their fortunes and return in triumph. There was plenty of farm and railroad work available to able-bodied men and, by 1905, there were almost 3,500 Japanese living in the city. The female population was less than 5 percent but more and more Issei began to change their plans of returning home, and businesses providing service to the ever-growing Japanese population were beginning to open.

The first years of the century saw a huge influx of Japanese from San Francisco to Southern California. This was influenced by the anti-Japanese movement which fueled existing racial tensions up north, but primarily was due to the 1906 earthquake and fire which left many Japanese homeless. Several thousand Japanese moved south and the Japanese population of Los Angeles suddenly doubled.

The "picture bride" phenomena occurred from 1910 to 1924. During this time the thousands of bachelors without the means of returning to Japan for wives literally sent away for them and, with the natural proliferation which followed, Little Tokyo became the center of Los Angeles to over 35,000 Japanese Americans.

In describing the community that evolved, Murase wrote: "The farmers from outlying areas looked to Little Tokyo to satisfy their appetite, fill their cupboards, and find amusement and relaxation on the weekends."

Those days have long since passed. It’s been many years since Japanese Americans made regularly weekly trips to the area and, considering the over 50 percent outmarriage rate of Japanese Americans, it seems as if the culture might be in danger of becoming diluted or even completely subsumed. But Masaoka of the National Committee on Redress and Reparation disagrees.

"People, especially people with kids-even if they’re half-Japanese-are looking for ways to connect with Japanese culture. The kids-related activities in Little Tokyo are some of the most popular."

Two generations have been born and grown up since the War Relocation Authority advised Japanese to "stay away from large groups of Japanese [and] avoid the use of the Japanese language except when necessary." Japanese Americans have unabashedly reclaimed their heritage, of which Little Tokyo is celebrated as a key legacy.

Playing Go: Older residents get together on weekends to play the ancient Japanese game of strategy at the Pioneer Center in Little Tokyo's JACCC Building.

Weekdays may be quiet, but weekends, especially festival days like the Children’s Day Celebration last weekend, still draw thousands of visitors to the area.

Some Japanese Americans, like Jan Takagi, Sansei (3rd generation), just came by to do some quick shopping for her son. "Just something for Boy’s Day and lunch," she said between slurps of somen, thin noodles served in a cold broth, a popular treat on a warm Los Angeles afternoon.

Others who visited during Children’s Day are regulars, and many seem to know one another, lending the event the intimate feel of a small-town county fair. Even two twentysomething Japanese Americans-Duane Hashiro, Yonsei (4th generation), and Carol Kikuma, Nisei (2nd generation)-who appeared to be just casual strollers, turned out to be part of a countywide volunteer group interested in Japanese culture which also helped to set up many of the booths and decorations.

The festival permeated every nook of Little Tokyo, but the hub was the giant courtyard between the Japanese American Theatre and the JACCC, the festival’s main sponsor.

Surveying the multiethnic turnout, JACCC President Minoru Tonai observed, "The JACCC wants Japanese Americans to come to Little Tokyo because it’s the center of our culture, but the festival is for all Americans.

"We want non-Asians to become more familiar with our culture and for other Asians to come here and see the similarities between our cultures and, we hope, dismiss their fears about the Japanese and understand that whatever happened in the old country, [Japanese Americans] didn’t have anything to do with it. Also, we want to show the way for newer immigrant groups to retain their heritage as well as being American."

Clearly, for the Southern Californian Japanese community, Little Tokyo has evolved into a sort of cultural homebase with its survival predicated on the community’s tenacity and flexibility. Recent economic fluctuations may have altered the face of Little Tokyo, but after having weathered the Great Depression and a 3-year-long forced eviction, Little Tokyo will undoubtedly take this in stride, too.

"Little Tokyo," Sugino assesses, "has paid a very big price to be able to get where it is. They really tried to retain as much as they could, but the community is very practical in recognizing that there are going to be some casualties along the way."

Pete Aguilar, a Thursday Club member, said he has lived in San Francisco, then Daly City, for 10 years, and now lives in San Bruno. Many of his friends have gone the San Francisco-to-Daly City route, too, he said. This migration from San Francisco has pretty much been the story of Daly City.

The first big jump in the city's population occurred after the 1906 earthquake that devastated San Francisco, according to Bunny Gillespie who, along with her husband, Ken, are Daly City's official historians. A dairy farmer at that time, John Daly, after whom the city was named, provided food for the refugees, Bunny Gillespie said. W. Powell, owner of the Colma Lumber Co., also provided temporary shelter to the fire and quake victims.

"The truly great effect of the earthquake lay in the movement of people rather than in physical damage," Samuel C. Chandler wrote in his 1973 book, Gateway to the Peninsula: A History of Daly City. "For days and weeks, the people came from their demolished homes or from the unburned parks and streets where they had gone to escape the quake and the fire."

"Capitals of Asian America" is AsianWeek's series on cultural centers around the country. This month, we explore five major capitals representing different ethnic groups in celebration of Asian Pacific Heritage Month. "Capitals of Asian America" is AsianWeek's series on cultural centers around the country. This month, we explore five major capitals representing different ethnic groups in celebration of Asian Pacific Heritage Month. Last week: Daly City, Calif.: Filipinos At Home in America This week: Los Angeles: Return to Little Tokyo Next week: Westminster, Calif.: Little Saigon May 24: Monterey Park, Calif.: Little Taipei May 31: San Francisco: The Chinatown Legacy