All-American Boy

Although Tom Haji’s parents had been born in Japan, there could hardly be a more American boy than the one who arrived in the Skykomish Valley in 1938. His father, a railroad worker, had been transferred there from tiny Bluestem, Wash., when Haji was in the third grade. Although the elementary school in Skykomish was very small, it dwarfed the two-room school the three Haji kids, including his older sisters, Sumiko and Hiro, had attended in Bluestem. Soon, all three kids were very active in their new school.

The sisters joined the glee club, a singing group, Hiro was freshman class secretary, Sumi was the junior class secretary, and Hiro played sports. It was there that Tom met fellow nissei, or second-generation Japanese, Sam Mitsui, who would remain a friend for not only all of Haji’s life, but Mitsui’s as well.

Tom’s father, Nick, was transferred to Monroe to be a section foreman when Tom was in the 7th grade, and in Monroe, Tom blossomed. He is remembered for many things, but chief among them was his winning personality.

“All I can say about Tommy was he was a great guy,” said his friend, Bob Crawford, who attended school with him in both Skykomish and Monroe. Popular, athletic, and smart, he lettered in four sports, served in many extracurricular clubs, helped produce high school plays and was a member of the honor society. His sister Hiro was valedictorian of her class, and it appeared he would be of his as well.

He often showed up on the sports page of the Monroe Monitor, where it was noted that he outscored his teammates at basketball and that he won a football game for Monroe in October of 1941, carrying a ball 55 yards into the end zone by simply outrunning all defenders.

Tom’s friends numbered among Asian and caucasian alike, and one of his best friends was Art Murdoch of Monroe, who still remembers their activities in the early 1940s. “We hung out at Bob Drewel’s Confectionary in the winter,” he said. “And then we got the key to the gym and we’d go in there and play.” Other friends remember him playing pinochle with friends, riding bikes, swimming at the old railroad trestle, playing tennis and telling jokes.

The Great War

But Pearl Harbor changed everything. Two months after Tom carried the ball 55 yards into the Stanwood end zone, anti-Japanese hysteria swept the nation in the wake of the attacks.

In Skykomish, Mitsui’s basketball coach instructed his teammates to defend him if he was attacked for his race. Mitsui found himself the subject of racial slurs with increasing frequency. In Seattle, Chinese students distanced themselves from the Japanese students where Hiro was in college. But in Monroe, people supported the Hajis, and Tom continued to play sports through the winter and into the spring.

But clouds were gathering.

Dec. 19, a few days after Pearl Harbor, the Monroe Monitor noted that Tom hadn’t been allowed to play at a Port Angeles game. Federal authorities were restricting travel for the Japanese.

In February, President Roosevelt signed into a law a measure which made it possible to actually round up all Japanese people on the West Coast and put them in camps, where they would be imprisoned and guarded. Their citizenship was stripped and they were classified as enemy aliens. A few days later, FBI agents showed up at the Haji’s Railroad Avenue home and searched it.

They questioned Hiro about a pin that had been made in Mexico, which apparently seemed suspicious to an agent, confiscated a radio, and put them on a curfew. They were to stay at home between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m. Someone accused Tom’s father of sabotaging a switch on a railroad. No one took the charge seriously.

In June, Art Murdoch got a call from Tom. “I worked in a grocery store, and Tom called me up and said the family needed someone to take them and their luggage to the railroad in Everett,” said Murdoch.

The FBI had ordered them to abandon their home and report to a train. They were allowed just one suitcase each. The family handed out prized possessions, including Hiro’s violin and Nick’s beloved fly-fishing rod. They were loaded on a train. The curtains were drawn shut so they wouldn’t know where they were going.

Art promised to write to his friend, and both hoped to see each other soon.
“We thought the war would be over in for or five months and it would all be a lark,” he said. “It didn’t turn out that way.

Art never saw his friend again.

Good Citizens

When the train stopped, the passengers were at an enormous internment camp in bleak, dry Tule Lake Calif., where they given a single 400-square-foot room to share. Tom and Sam Mitsui soon reunited at the camp, and Tom quickly distinguished himself in his new home. “He was such a leader,” said Mitsui, who said Tom was like an older brother to him.

A high school was organized among the students, and of 400 seniors, Tom was elected class president. He played basketball, boxed, and devoted himself to his studies, although his new school had few books or supplies of any kind.

In February of 1944, when Tom had been in what Mitsui calls a concentration camp for more than six months, the military distributed a questionnaire to gauge the loyalty of the residents of the camp, and asking if any were willing to serve in the military. Tom avowed his patriotism, and made himself available to be drafted.

In June, the Mitsui and Haji families, identified as good citizens, were released and both families returned to railroad jobs.

Tom had qualified to graduate, but missed his ceremony, as his family had already left Tule Lake. The family relocated to Spokane, and Tom went to Whitworth College, where he played three sports and took a full class load, majoring in pre-engineering. He was also a reporter for the college newspaper. Don George, a friend from Monroe, once took a carload of old classmates from Monroe to Spokane to visit Tom.

Tom was drafted in early 1944, at the age of 18. He wanted to be a Marine, but was not allowed. Rather, he was drafted to the army.

Soldier

Basic training was brutal. Tom was sent to a nearly all-Japanese training camp in Florida, where the soldiers trained by hiking as many as 150 miles with 80 pound packs. Before heading overseas, just after Thanksgiving of 1944, Tom made one last trip back to Monroe, where he visited many old friends. Some of them were missing, though, already serving in the military elsewhere.

He then shipped out for Europe, eventually reaching France, where he was assigned to the segregated 442nd Regimental Combat Team, an all-Japanese group. At first, it was fairly calm. the Germans and the Americans were dug in on adjacent mountains, but were only maintaining their positions, not openly fighting. The American soldiers were often invited to eat with French families in the mountainous region. Tom, a prolific letter writer, stayed in touch with many people, including Art Murdoch, although Murdoch took a lot of grief from other soldiers who wondered why Murdoch had a Japanese friend.

In March of 1945, though, Tom’s regiment was told they were going to move.
March 23, they headed for Italy. Their mission was to drive Germany out of Italy. The Germans had been entrenched in northern Italy for months, and until they were driven out, it would be hard to regain Europe.

Tom’s regiment was taken eight miles form the “Gothic Line,” the string of mountain top positions held by Germans. They walked the last eight miles to avoid detection, then spent four days driving the Germans out of the steep terrain around Italy’s Mount Belvedere, eventually pushing them back two and a half miles.

April 9, the fight bogged down. German machine gun nests held back the Americans. One nest in particular was a problem. Tom and several other soldiers were sent to attack it. During the attack, Tom was killed.

A few weeks later, the Germans surrendered unconditionally and the war was won.

Remembering Tom

At the administration building in Monroe last Tuesday, about a dozen former friends of Toms gathered to remember him.

In the room were three people who had written to Tom that spring, only to have those letters returned, bearing a message that Tom had been killed in action. One of them was Sam Mitsui.

“I made a pledge that day that I would never forget the sacrifice made by the men of the 442nd,” he said. “The reason that I am here is to fulfill that pledge.”

For more than 50 years, Mitsui has been a speaker, telling Rotary Clubs and high schools about the sacrifice made by his friend and talking about the experience of being interned.

Two years ago, Monroe historian Tom Parry heard the story and became fascinated. Already working on a project to honor the memories of all Monroe citizens who died in World War II, including his own father, Parry devoted himself to compiling Tom’s history. “It’s been really fascinating,” he said.

He traveled around Washington state, photographing the places Tom had spent his short life and interviewing people who remembered him. Those memories and photos, along with a neatly typed account of Tom’s life story, are now gathered in a two inch binder entitled “Tom Haji” and bearing the young man’s military photo on the cover.

Tuesday, after Mayor Donnetta Walser made a speech recognizing Haji’s service to his country, Mitsui, who himself was awarded his own high school diploma from Sykomish High School about two months ago, stepped forward with Tom’s sister Hiro Ishida to accept Tom’s diploma.

As those present shared stories and memories about Tom, frequently laced with humor about old sports rivalries that have survived the decades, Monroe High School principal John Lombardi suddenly got to his feet. “I just realized that the area in which Tom was killed is the area where my family was liberated,” he said. “My family is from near Mount Belvedere.”

He walked to Hiro and placed a hand on her shoulder. “As an American and an Italian, I want to thank your brother for my freedom,” he said. “I am honored that I could sign his diploma.”

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