Authors: Clifton La Bree
Three months later, Lisa moved to an apartment in Durham.
She had been offered a job at the University of New Hampshire as a music
instructor, after resigning her full-time position with the Boston Pops. The
commute and expense back and forth from northern New Hampshire to Boston had
taken too much of her time. Several of her acquaintances had formed a New
Hampshire Symphony Orchestra with a base at the university. Lisa’s acceptance
of a position with the orchestra led to a salaried job at the university which
paid more than her teaching job at Twin Mountains. The best part of the job was
that she could take better care of Terry and spend more time with him. A normal
life without long separations was something she looked forward to. Lisa was
feeling good about the way her life was going.
Terry was already enrolled in the Durham kindergarten class.
The days she could not be home after Terry completed classes, a next door
neighbor looked after him. She had a daughter in the same class as Terry.
The first week of September had been hectic. Lisa had to
prepare outlines for the three classes a week she had contracted for. She liked
the academic atmosphere of the campus. The energy of the students was
contagious. There was also a very serious down-to-earth demeanor among the
older students, who made up sixty percent of the student body. They were World
War II veterans taking advantage of one of the most generous pieces of
legislature to come out of Washington—the G.I. Bill of Rights.
An education was made available to them, and the campuses of
the nation were filled with mature men motivated and focused on obtaining an
education. They introduced a more serious element to campus life overshadowing
the excesses of the younger students. They had little time for frivolity or
partying. The horrors of combat could be seen in the eyes of many of the
veterans. The veterans gave a mature element of stability and purpose to the
campus that would disappear soon after they graduated.
Lisa related to the veterans, for she too had experienced
the war in a very unique way. Yet, she worried that the veterans on campus
would be the most likely group to be critical of Terry. Consequently, she
avoided taking him on campus because she did not want to subject him to an
unpleasant incident with those men who might still harbor hatred for the
Japanese. So far, she had not experienced any derogatory remarks. She
frequently drew inquiring glances at grocery stores and other public places
when Terry was with her, but many simply looked and wondered without passing
judgment. She never explained his ancestry to strangers, and continued to keep
her life as private as possible.
Lisa was content to stay at home with Terry when her work at
the university and with the orchestra were completed. Occasionally she attended
school functions, but felt uncomfortable and often out of place. She was
beginning to get the reputation of a recluse.
The last Friday of the month Lisa returned mid-day to their
apartment. Terry was still at school. She fixed a glass of lemonade and sat
down at the kitchen counter when the phone rang.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Is this Miss Lisa Carter?” asked a voice she did not
recognize.
“Who’s calling?” she asked, unwilling to give her name to a
stranger.
“I’m sorry, this is Colonel Jonathon Wright,” answered a
weak-sounding voice.
“Now, I recognize your voice, Colonel. Yes, this is Lisa.
How did you get my new phone number?”
“I called the Boston Pops business office for your number
and address. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.” Jonathon’s voice was barely
audible.
“Of course not,” she answered. “Are you all right, Colonel?
I can barely hear you.”
“Not really,” he answered. “I’ve been assigned to the
Portsmouth Naval Yard Hospital for recuperation and therapy. I was wounded in
Korea the second day of the war. I’ve been in a lot of hospitals. They decided
to send me to the hospital nearest to my home in Maine. I picked Portsmouth
because when I get out I’m going to be assigned for a two-year tour of duty as
commander of the ROTC unit in Durham.”
“What a coincidence,” remarked Lisa pleased to hear the
news. “I just took a job here.”
“I understand that. Listen, I’m not sure how long I’ll be
able to talk coherently. They just gave me a shot to ease the pain. Would it be
possible for you to come down to the hospital? I have something I want to
discuss with you, and I don’t want to do it over the phone. I apologize if I
sound mysterious, but you’ll understand when I tell you.”
“I could drop by later this afternoon or early evening,”
Lisa suggested, wondering what he wanted to talk about.
“Early evening will be fine with me. I’ll be finished with
my exercises by then. It’ll be nice to see you again, Miss Carter.”
“I’ll be there by seven o’clock. If something comes up, do
you have a number I can call?”
“Yes, it’s room 88, phone number 92-W, and it’s a direct
line to my hospital bed. I hope I’m not interrupting any of your plans.”
“Colonel Wright!” she scolded. “You’re not interfering with
anything. Rest well now, and I’ll see you soon.”
Jonathon answered with a thick tongue. “Thanks.”
Lisa hung up the receiver and thought about the first time
she had met the brave soldier. The feeling of giving up on life was something
she would never forget. Thinking of it now was frightening, but back then,
suicide looked like an easy way to eliminate the cruelties they had to endure.
Then, out of the dark jungle a figure burst into the room while the Japanese
commandant was violating her. The door broke in small pieces and the next thing
she knew, the commandant was cringing on the floor, a pathetic human being. In
that split second she no longer wanted to die, the world had changed!
The calm and gentle persuasion he brought to her in that
room as he tried to comfort her, was an experience she had relived over and
over. She and the other inmates were inspired by the Rangers. They not only
saved lives, they gave new meaning to many who had lost the will to live. Lisa
was one of the first to acknowledge that fact. She was anxious to bring Terry
to see Jonathon. The Colonel’s reaction was important to her.
Lisa waited at the driveway to her apartment for Terry’s
bus, visible in the distance. He and their neighbor’s son, Ralph, stepped off
the bus. Ralph was first. When he saw Lisa, he turned to look at Terry, who had
been crying. His eyes were swollen and red. Terry saw his mother waiting and
ran to her.
“What’s the matter, Terry,” she demanded, picking him up.
The young woman driver of the bus held the door open and
stepped out to speak to Lisa. “Your son was sitting minding his own business
when some of the older kids in the back began talking loud and hatefully about
the Japanese. They messed up his hair and ripped his shirt before I noticed
what was going on. I broke up the scuffle and have the names of the children
involved,” the driver handed a sheet of paper to Lisa. “I’m sorry this
happened. I kicked the boys off the bus for a week. Your son has been a
well-mannered little gentleman, and he did nothing to draw such behavior to
himself.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Lisa told the driver. “This is
only his second week at a new school. I don’t know what to do, but I’ll do what
I can to make sure there’s no repeat performance.”
“Good luck. If you need me for anything, give me a call.”
“Thanks,” Lisa replied.
The driver climbed back into the bus and drove off.
Lisa turned to Terry. “Did you hear the driver?”
“Yes,” he answered, waving bye to Ralph.
“Did you see it, Ralph?” Lisa asked.
“Those older guys just kept calling him names like Tojo and
hari-kari,” answered Ralph. “We were sitting together and they kept cuffing him
on the head. I was scared they would hurt me too.”
“Well, we’ll see that they don’t do that again. Thanks for
being a friend to Terry. Now you better run along so that your mother won’t
worry about you.”
“See you Monday, Terry,” hollered Ralph, running home.
Lisa took Terry’s hand and walked slowly into the apartment.
This was the first incident where another person had made racial slurs to his
face. Lisa was furious that it had happened so early in the school year when he
was alone in a completely strange environment. She had prayed that it would be
a positive time in his young life. Lisa looked down at him and her heart beat
faster. She loved him with all the love a mother was capable of having.
Terry was a quiet child that any mother would be proud of.
He was like a small adult in many ways. He walked into the house beside his mother
still holding her hand. There was a determined look on his face that made her
want to cry. It wasn’t defiance, but it reflected an inner strength that the
five-year-old was going to make the best of an uncomfortable situation. He was
not afraid. What bothered him the most was that his friends on the bus had seen
him crying. It was his first encounter with racism and Lisa was concerned, yet,
there was an element of relief that the inevitable meeting had taken place. She
was encouraged with the way Terry had handled the situation.
As soon as they got in the house, Lisa called the numbers
the bus driver had given to her. There were three boys. Two were brothers and
the third was a neighbor further down the road. Lisa called the home of the two
boys, Larry and Thomas Holmes.
Mrs. Holmes answered. “Hello.”
“Hello. This is Lisa Carter. Are you the mother of Larry and
Thomas Holmes?”
“Yes, is anything wrong?” asked Mrs. Holmes, detecting a
determined tone in Lisa’s voice.
“That all depends on how one looks at it,” claimed Lisa,
proceeding to tell her what had taken place on the bus. “Before I continue, I
want to know what you plan to do about it. The bus driver witnessed most of the
episode.”
“Was your son hurt?”
“Not physically, but who knows what such behavior has on a
five-year-old? My son Terry, is a Japanese-American, and I’m not going to stand
by and have him accosted and insulted by older boys who should know better,”
promised Lisa, trying to control her anger. Normally she was very much in
control of her emotions, but the thought of someone taking advantage of her son
unleashed a powerful urge to seek justice.
Mrs. Holmes detected the rage and offered an apology for her
son’s behavior. “I can assure you that your son will never be treated that way
by my boys again. Give me a half hour, Mrs. Carter, and I’ll be there at your
place with the boys. I’d say that the first order of business is an apology to
you and your son.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Holmes. Thank you for being so
fair-minded,” Lisa replied, breathing easier.
“Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
True to her word, Mrs. Holmes pulled into the driveway with
the two boys. She made them walk up the stairs to the porch in front of her and
ring the doorbell.
Lisa saw the two boys on the porch. They were not very
happy. She opened the door. “Hello, I’m Terry’s mother.”
“My brother and I came by to say that we’re sorry about the
things we said and did to Terry,” the older boy volunteered.
“I believe that you should say that to Terry instead of to
me,” she said, motioning them into the living room where Terry was sitting on
the couch. He was shy and uncomfortable. “Terry, these two boys have something
to say to you.”
He stood up and looked down at the floor for a moment, then
he confronted the two boys.
“Terry,” began the older boy. ”Me and my brother Tom
apologize for the way we acted. My mother suggested that we should shake hands
and put it behind us.”
Larry extended his hand to Terry who was anxious to shake.
Thomas also stepped forward. “That goes for me too. We were wrong to say those
things to you.”
Terry took his hand and asked eagerly, “Does that mean we
can be friends?”
“Sure, if you want,” replied Larry with a grin. “My dad was
a soldier and he told us that the most courageous soldiers in the army were the
Japanese-Americans fighting in Italy. We didn’t really mean what we said. We
thought that it would make us look big to our friends, but we were wrong.”
Lisa and Mrs. Holmes smiled at each other, pleased with the
outcome. A lesson in tolerance and humility had just been learned.
“I want to thank you boys for coming by,” said Lisa, turning
to Terry. “Is there something you want to say, Son?”
“No… except thanks for letting me be your friend,” replied
Terry, beaming all over. To be accepted by older boys as a friend was a treat
for a five-year-old.
“Later this fall after the leaves have fallen, maybe I could
hire you boys to do some raking for me. I’ll pay the going rates in the
neighborhood,” suggested Lisa. The boys eagerly looked up at their mother.
“The boys would be pleased at a chance to earn some extra
money,” Mrs. Holmes answered for them. “We must be going now. I have a roast in
the oven.”
Terry and his mother stood on the porch watching the boys
get back into their mother’s Ford. Mrs. Holmes had given Lisa a hug before
leaving. Terry waved from the porch as they drove down the street. Lisa was
satisfied with the way Mrs. Holmes handled the situation, and Terry was pleased
about the prospect of having older boys as friends. They were settling into the
neighborhood on a positive note!
Lisa combed Terry’s black hair away from his eyes with her
index finger. “You know son, as you grow older, you’ll find that people who say
bad things about others really don’t like themselves. We feel good when others
like us, but it’s just as important that we like ourselves. The things bad
people say should not change that. Most people accept little boys like you when
you're kind, respectful, and polite to others. If you listen to the little
voice inside of you and act upon it, you’ll seldom be wrong.”