It was sushi and sake last night for dinner in the spirit of reading “Facing the Mountain,” a true story about Japanese American heroes in WW II. It is in fact a another heart wrenching account about  the gross mistreatment of immigrants, and in many cases families of Japanese citizens. I have always led a charmed life and this book of hardships further emphasizes my good fortune to have been born a white, American male.

The Florida sun is slowly turning my skin brown and I feel like I’m on vacation. This in sharp contrast to learning about those who have lost everything because of their nationality. Fear always seems to override compassion in times of war and human beings often display their worst sides. The Northwest that we just left behind was the main target for these crimes against fellow man, locking them up like animals simply because of their Asian roots. It makes me ashamed to be an American.

In the meantime, we continue to get settled in our new home. I counted fifty boxes this morning that have yet to be unpacked, a majority of these are pictures that will need to be hung on the walls. Selfishly, most of my personal possessions have been rescued from the clutter, with most everything in great condition. However, we still have a lot of glass barware, canisters, kitchen goods, and decorative pieces that are unopened, but so far we’ve been satisfied with the care they put into packing our precious things. Each night I take another huge load of wrapping paper and cardboard to the dumpsters, edging one more day closer to getting fully settled.