Barbed Wire Baseball
I believe we're heading toward the World Series. (Keeping
sports seasons straight is not my forte.) However, I know for sure
we're headed toward an election where we could end up seriously
mistreating people of non white ethnicity. Marissa Moss' Barbed Wire
Baseball, the story of the man considered the father of Japanese
American baseball, takes a look at one time America did just that from
a very interesting perspective.
Kenichi Zenimura (Zeni) decided that he wanted to play baseball
the first time he saw a game. Family and friends considered him too
small and frail. His parents considered his passion a waste of time.
They wanted him to become a doctor or a lawyer.
As an adult, despite standing five feet tall and tipping the
scales at one hundred pounds, Zeni managed, coached, and played. He
was advancing quite well in his beloved sport when something happened
that was way out of his control.
As America entered into World War II, the West Coast was
considered in need of protection from enemy spies. Zeni and his wife
and sons were some of the 120,000 Americans of Japanese descent who
were locked up without trials in primitive barracks put in the
desert. He was sure baseball could help to make those barracks home
for their inhabitants. But how in such desolation could he build a
field and get the uniforms and equipment?
I guess you'll have to read the book to see.
On a personal note, we had some jamming at the Wilson Center the
second Wednesday in September. Dylan had his guitar. There were some
pretty awesome drums. The rest of us played simpler instruments. I
was a gypsy dancer with a tambourine. Didn't we make some beautiful
A great big shout out goes out to my Wilson Center family.
Sent from my iPod