By Kai Curry
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY
When you talk to Toki Endo about his story, you cannot help but admire his bravery. As a child who experienced incarceration, an Air Force officer during Vietnam who witnessed the death of his crewmates, and, later, the death of his own brother after the war, Endo strives to come to terms. Rather than lock away these painful experiences permanently, Endo has sought to learn more, to share more, to heal more. Recently, he asked AARP to help him reunite with his brother, Nori’s, family, through their partnership with “Wish of a Lifetime.”
Toki and his wife, Victoria, share a happy moment during the family reunion in August. (Photograph by Blake Andrews. Source: Wish of a Lifetime from AARP.)
Endo’s parents were U.S. citizens who were born here. It was their parents who emigrated from Japan. Nevertheless, when Endo was about 5 years old, the family, including he and his brother Nori, was taken to an “assembly center” for a few weeks before being sent to the Poston War Relocation Center in Arizona, next to the Colorado River. Thousands of Japanese Americans were taken from the agricultural area around Salinas, California, where Endo lived, at this time.
Arizona was hot. Endo remembers his father carving out a hole under the floor so he could sleep in relative coolness—until Endo’s mother protested that he would get bitten by a scorpion. Endo did get bitten by a scorpion, and he caught blood poisoning, although he’s not sure how. Endo’s memories of the time in the incarceration camp are filled with blanks—a result of what he has come to understand was trauma—and yet what he does recall is in great detail. He recalls the meager facilities and the meager meals. You could see the dirt and dust on the floor, he said, and even on Christmas, they had only Spam to eat—even after being tantalized by baked chicken. Endo remembers being terrified of the abysmally primitive outhouses, so much so that his father had to help him the first time.
“The brain blanks out a lot of traumatic experiences,” Endo said.
In these reduced circumstances, Endo’s mother tried hard to maintain decorum. She sacrificed for her two sons, such as the time Nori dropped his hot dog, and she gave him hers. They were only allowed one each, which meant that Endo’s mother went without protein for that meal. The entire experience was so upsetting for young Nori that he actually stopped speaking. Later, the family moved to Maryland, where Endo attended high school and college. Endo’s father, ironically, served some time as a Japanese language instructor for the military (Endo has tried with only minimal success to get to the bottom of his father’s career after the camp). Both Nori and Toki joined the military—Nori in the Navy and Toki in the Air Force.
Toki’s brother Nori was an attack pilot in the Navy during the Vietnam war. (Photo courtesy of Toki Endo)
For Endo, it was an effort “to wipe the stain” of incarceration and distrust off of the family. To be a citizen, “thrown into jail…because of your race. I felt that maybe this was the way to prove” their American-ness, Endo told the Asian Weekly. While he did serve his country well—earning several service decorations—and while he did not experience significant discrimination in the military, Endo senses that Asians still have had to prove themselves continuously up until today.
“It’s gotten worse,” Endo said. “I just don’t understand that. I’m sickened by it.”
A star student while training in the Air Force, Endo’s recall about his military service is impeccable. He served as a B-52 electronic warfare officer, flying missions out of Guam and other stations. Nori was an attack pilot who likely suffered from Agent Orange. The brothers never saw each other once they were overseas during the war, but Endo had an experience that helped him learn about his brother—he flew with Jimmy Stewart! Stewart was remarkable to Endo and others for comporting himself as “one of the guys,” even though he was a high-ranking officer and could have taken advantage of his Hollywood fame. Stewart agreed to write a letter to Endo’s parents, so that eventually Endo was able to hear through his mother (gushing that she’d received a letter from Jimmy Stewart!) that Nori was okay.
Toki Endo receives a service honor while in the Air Force during the Vietnam war. (Photo courtesy of Toki Endo)
Sadly, after the war, Nori was not okay. He developed cancer twice, and passed away. The brothers lived on opposite ends of the U.S. and until this August, Toki had not seen Nori’s family in about 15 years. After the war, Endo went into an aerospace career, working for such prominent companies as Hughes Aircraft Company and Northrop Grumman. Endo was not really okay, either. Psychologically, he suffers from PTSD, which has caused him to distance himself from others, including his family. He also suffers from survivor syndrome, a common feeling among soldiers who live when their brothers-in-arms die. Endo was involved in an in-air collision and saw three crewmates perish.
“Their names are on that wall,” he said, referencing the memorial by Maya Lin in Washington, D.C. The mood was instantly sad.
Toki Endo’s service insignia and medals. (Image courtesy of Toki Endo)
Now retired in Yorba Linda, California, Endo was able to reunite with Nori’s side of the family through “Wish of a Lifetime,” which offers military veterans a chance to fulfill a precious wish. The Asian Weekly heard from “Wish of a Lifetime” vice president and executive director, Tom Wagenlander, who said, “As a charitable affiliate of AARP’s, we are able to bring a national spotlight to older adults whose experiences demonstrate the transformational power of a wish. Wishes, especially like Toki’s, allow the generations to come together and connect through incredibly meaningful experiences that everyone involved will treasure for their lifetime.”
Well-spoken and gracious throughout our conversation, Endo advised our readers that, even though a person’s journey may be fraught with hardship and injustice, eventually, “people will come up and thank you.” This happens to Endo now when people see him in his Vietnam veteran’s hat.
“It means a lot to me for people…to thank me for my service,” he said. As Endo told the people at “Wish of a Lifetime,” it was the U.S government that incarcerated his family and it was the U.S. government that, through his military service, allowed Endo to seek a sense of redemption. “Keep your chin up. There’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”
Kai can be reached at info@nwasianweekly.com.