By JAMES COLE, Rafu Contributor
I remember my Uncle James as a kind man with a sense of humor. Whenever he would visit us in California, he would always be joking and he always carried his brown paper bag with him.
When I was 5 or 6, I asked him what it was, and he replied, “That’s just my ice cream.” I learned later that it was whiskey. Uncle James was a drinker for as long as I can remember. He wasn’t a mean drunk, he was just… sedated. I never knew why he drank, it seemed like he needed to so he could be at a manageable place.
After Uncle James passed, my mother told me his story and the unbearable sadness he carried with him until he died.
James Brunson was a soldier in the United States Army following the end of WW2. He worked as an X-ray technician and was, by all accounts, an intelligent and conscientious man. My mother told me that he worked with babies and came up with a way to hold them in place for X-rays. It was a good job for him, he always loved kids and had a profound desire to start his own family one day.
While stationed in Japan, he fell in love with a beautiful Japanese woman, and some time into his deployment, she became pregnant. Ecstatic with the good news, he went back to his company commander to request permission to marry.
For whatever reason, my uncle’s request was denied. He was confined to the base and forbidden from leaving even to say goodbye to his beloved and unborn child.
My uncle was immediately shipped back to the United States against his will. Soon after, he turned to drinking and became an alcoholic. He never returned to Japan.
Uncle James died young from cirrhosis of the liver. To my knowledge, he never married and never had children here.
I hope Uncle James’s family in Japan knew or believed James loved her and their child. He wanted to be with them and did not leave willingly. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her to bear and raise a Blasian child in the years during the occupation after WWII.
When I was a research fellow in Kyoto about 40 years ago, I saw a musical band on television. The drummer was noticeably darker than the others and had very curly hair.
In the back of my mind, I wondered if that could be my cousin. He seemed to be about the right age I would have expected my cousin to be.
I don’t know how many women and children were left behind during the military occupation of Japan after WW2, but I hope there’s some comfort in knowing that not all of them were left behind willingly.
If anyone reading this is one of those descendants, know that people are thinking of you. To my cousin who may or may not be out there, your father loved you and your mother, and losing you broke his heart.
This resource is supported in whole or in part by funding provided by the State of California, administered by the California State Library in partnership with the California Department of Social Services and the California Commission on Asian and Pacific Islander American Affairs as part of the Stop the Hate program. To report a hate incident or hate crime and get support, go to CA vs Hate.