BRIDGING GENERATIONS JAPANESE-AMERICANS FIND WAY TO AID ELDERS.

Byline: BRENT HOPKINS Staff Writer

PACOIMA -- In the years after World War II, the gardeners and farmers saw the desolate lot -- across from a dairy that stank of manure -- and dreamed of opportunity, equality and justice.

Today, their children look at a different patch of dirt and weeds and see the future.

The story of the San Fernando Valley's Japanese-American community has always been one of survival and triumph. Survival in times of war, in the face of prejudice, through lean years. Triumph in unity, in business, in building a sense of self.

More than a half-century ago, the community came together to plan the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center. This arose as a memorial to the men and women who had come to the United States to build new lives, a bridge to the traditions of their homeland.

``They wanted to keep the culture alive, and they really saw far ahead,'' said Harold Muraoka, a former president and longtime board member of the center. ``If we hadn't had the center, I'd hate to think where we'd be now.''

For all its success in the past five decades, the sprawling complex on Branford Street finds itself facing an uncertain future. With its membership aging and younger generations moving away, the center must find a way to bring in new interest and new revenue.

So Muraoka and his supporters have put their faith in another 4-acre plot not far from the one their forebearers bet on in the 1950s. Pending approval from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, they plan to invest $16 million to construct a 79-unit assisted-living center called Nikkei Senior Garden.

In addition to providing a place to live for longtime members unable to care for themselves, the garden will provide much-needed income to fund the JACC's future operations.

Within five years, Muraoka projects the facility will net $500,000 annually and enable the JACC to hire staff. Currently, it has a crew of part-time volunteers.

``We hope that the younger generation can look upon this and say, `Hey, you guys left a nice legacy for us,''' said Harry Nakada, a 79-year-old North Hollywood board member. ``Who knows? I might end up there, too.''

A new day

This all seems so far from what the rough-handed men, in their gardeners' uniforms and farmers' clothes, worked out a half-century ago.

Back in 1950, each day, they would come to eat lunch and shoot the bull out in front of Yamabe Bros. Nursery in North Hollywood. Only a decade before, they had been incarcerated in places such as Manzanar, Tule Lake and Heart Mountain. Some still lived in government trailer camps in Sun Valley and Burbank.

They told stories of the war, their time in camp, the new life they had found trimming lawns and pruning hedges. Some talked about how life had been back in Japan, but mostly about their kids growing up American.

Their Nisei and Sansei kids, second- and third-generation Japanese-Americans, didn't fit in at school. They looked different, didn't get picked for sports, didn't hang out with the popular crowd. They needed something for themselves, the gardeners decided, a center of their own where they could practice judo, shoot hoops and learn Japanese.

``It's time to Do or Die, Put Up or Shut Up,'' Pete Nakao, one of the effort's organizers, wrote in a newsletter to supporters at the time.

Pulling together

They pooled their money and asked their friends for help. Five bucks here, $10 there, whatever anyone could give. They raised $30,000 and bought 4 1/2 acres in 1953. Five years later, they had a charter. Two years after that, in 1960, the community center opened. They had that place of their own.

They put up a judo dojo where the men could toss one another around, a kitchen to prepare sushi and tempura, rooms to teach ikebana flower arrangement and language classes and a quiet garden to honor the veterans who served their new homeland in World War II and Korea. A huge ``gymtorium'' held weddings, dances, church services and basketball games.

Over the years, they would add a baseball diamond -- later rented out for a charter school -- and a 100-unit, low-income housing facility, Nikkei Village. Ironically, as its members prospered, many found themselves over-qualified to live in the facility, so it became more of an income source than a benefit to Japanese-Americans.

In all, the center was a resounding success. For decades, the once-humble lot grew and flourished, providing a sense of roots for people pushed out and marginalized by racism, ignorance and the law. It became that place of the founders' dreams.

``It has been that,'' said Muraoka, 75, a retired electronics technician who lives in Northridge. ``But I'm sorry to say that today's generation doesn't have the same outlook. Because of the war, the older generation knew they had to get together if they wanted to get something done. The kids assimilated into white society. They've got big, CEO jobs, but they don't think about the center anymore.''

Numbers dwindle 

Nearly 46 years after it opened, the center's triumph has also been its undoing. It did such a good job of empowering its youth that they grew up, did well and moved on. As they married into other cultures, their kids grew up with a sense of Japanese heritage, but not the firm roots of the pioneers.

In the early 1970s, at the center's apex, more than 1,000 people belonged and took part in its barbecues, card clubs and sports tournaments. Today, that's dropped to 800 members, more than 400 of whom are seniors. Many belong but only attend once a year or so for the annual Obon festival.

``Just like there's no need for the Niseis or the Sanseis to go to Little Tokyo anymore because the facilities are everywhere -- same thing for the community center,'' said Jim Higashida, 78, a third-generation Japanese-American whose father was active in founding the center. ``In the beginning, that was the hub, where everything happened -- picnics, judo, meetings, everything. Now, people don't congregate there. In a way, it's not necessary anymore.''

For the past five years, income and membership have dropped as the people who nurtured the program over the years have died and moved away. Muraoka, who has been active in the center's operations for more than 40 years, fears its leaders won't be around for much longer.

So he sees the future in the new dirt lot a few blocks over on Arleta Street. In 1999, he and a group of other longtime members organized an effort to purchase 3 1/2 acres for $700,000. In the past seven years, their investment has already appreciated to $4million.

The nonprofit put together by handouts and fundraisers in the park now has assets worth nearly $20million. With the income provided by the senior garden, Muraoka hopes the center can keep going, perhaps expanding to encompass other Asian-American groups. With their support, he said he thinks it could live to serve another generation.

``We look at this and say, `How could we let this go?''' he said, staring out the window at the tidy grounds. ``We grew up here. It's been a part of our lives for so long. How could we let this go?''

brent.hopkins(at)dailynews.com

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CAPTION(S):

4 photos, map

Photo:

(1 -- color) Harold Muraoka and other elders of the Japanese American Community Center in Pacoima plan to build an assisted-living facility nearby, hoping it sparks both interest in and revenue for the center, whose membership is aging and dwindling.

(2 -- 3) In 1962, the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center was solidifying its place in the community with a youth group, above, a judo dojo, language classes and more to give Japanese-Americans a bridge to the traditions of their homeland. But now, nearly 50 years after a group of gardeners and farmers pooled their money to build the JACC, the membership and income are declining. So, the aging elders of the Pacoima center are pitching in to build an assisted-living facility near the place that was the heart of the community for decades. At top, Harold Muraoka stands at a memorial honoring Japanese-American veterans at the JACC.

Michael Owen Baker/Staff Photographer

(4 -- color) A picture taken in 1954 shows the fourth annual picnic of the San Fernando Valley Japanese American Community Center.

Map:

Japanese American Community Center

Proposed 79-unit Nikkei Senior Gardens

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