STARTING OVER IN EASTERN OREGON & IDAHO IN 1930s, DUE TO JAPANESE DISCRIMINATION
AFTER BEING ONE OF THE 100 DAIRY FARMERS ONCE SUPPLYING 1/2 OF SEATTLE'S MILK SUPPLY
“I think it’s time to see if Mrs. Takei can come and help,” Mary whispers to Sago. It is January 14th, 1939, and past midnight on this remote Eastern Oregon farm, ten miles west of Vale – Malheur County seat, but hardly 200 in population. The snow the week before was only six inches, but doesn’t melt because it’s 20 degrees.
Sago runs to start up the old International flatbed truck, their only means of transportation. Without weight, the truck slides it’s way into and around the icy road ruts, moaning and whining its way back home with Mrs. Takei. She is not a trained midwife, but knows what to do. “Heat up more water and get a bunch of towels,” she suggests in Japanese to Sago, as she goes to the bedroom, asking, “How often are your pains?”
“Every four or five minutes but I can ‘gaman’ (put up with).” Mary answers stoically, as she thinks she should. She knows the rest of the men, her dad and two brothers, will be up soon and need breakfast and adds, “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry, I don’t think I feel like getting up.”
“Don’t worry, I will make some oatmeal, pancakes and coffee. Just relax and take deep breaths,” Mrs. Takei softly and calmly advises.
Mary remembers Mrs. Goto’s advice at the New Years celebration a couple weeks ago, “Don’t worry, gambatte!! (endure, be strong). Just push hard at the end and it will be easy.” Mary knows, last year Mr. Goto and Mr. Nakano had assisted in the birth of Andy Goto in their remodeled chicken-coop farm house, following instructions in a Japanese magazine. No one can afford doctors and everyone knows babies are just part of life.
After breakfast, Sago says, “I better stick around, close to the house.” He goes out to chop some more wood and fill the coal bucket.
Mrs. Takei compliments twenty-one year old Mary through this first birth, “Your mother would be proud of her good Japanese daughter if she were alive.” By early afternoon, she announces, “You have a beautiful baby girl!”
Mary and Sago are excited to have a girl and having a conversation about naming her. During the pregnancy, as Mary learned to make bread and cook from their landlord, Mrs. Yragen, her three-year-old grand daughter was often visiting. Mary suggested, “Dolores is so cute, I like that for a name!”
Sago agrees, but responds, “Let’s spell it Delores so it doesn’t sound so melancholy. We can make her middle name Michiko and be sure to use the Japanese characters for “Beautiful and Intelligent”.
Ironically, Sam Goto, who would later marry Delores, is living a few miles away in Bully Creek at the time she is born.
Fifty-one years later when Delores, “Dee”, had one of her last conversations with her Dad, he said, “The happiest day of my life was the day you were born.”