On this day seventy-five years ago, Dad was in Yokohama, Japan. Much of the world was at war now, and on this day, he was a twenty-two year old young man on his way back to New Jersey without his family.
He had purchased his ticket for travel on the Japanese ship, the Kamakura Maru, which would sail across the Pacific, stopping first in Honolulu where it remained for three days while the shipped restocked its supplies. It would then continue on to its final destination of San Francisco.
I often wonder how my father must have felt during that time. He must have felt fear for himself and his family, who were still trapped in the Soviet Union. I am sure he also felt overwhelming loneliness as he prepared to embark on this trip alone, despite so many people who would be on that ship with him.
How did he do it? I guess you figure out a way when you have no choice.