The Pacific Citizen August 13, 1942
LARGE BLOWER FAN, AIR COOLER GIVEN TO POSTON HOSPITAL
POSTON, Ariz.—Evacuees from the Visalia area, sweltering in Poston's torrid desert heat, are grateful for the contributions of a large blower fan and an air cooler for the hospital unit. Robert Cross of Tulare County donated the blower fan, which exhausts air from the room, to the hospital at Poston which will serve the people from Visalia. Miss Mieki Teraoka told Mr. Hideo the large air cooler to the hospital unit and has brought it to Poston at her own expense.
POSTON TEACHERS TRAIN AT INDIAN SERVICE SCHOOL
POSTON TEACHERS TRAIN AT INDIAN SERVICE SCHOOL
POSTON Ariz. — Seventy prospective Nisei teachers for the Poston school system will receive basic teachers' training at the Indian Service school, which is located 12 miles above Poston. They will be accredited by the California State Dept. of Education upon completion of the course.
WHISTLING IN THE DARK By KENNY MURASE
Introducing Little Esteban, a Sagebrush Imp
Little Esteban is the Mexican-Indian boy who lives among the sage-brushes around the camps at Poston, Arizona. He is very bold and nosey and likes to talk with everyone, but especially with me because I have a big bag of cinnamon drops snuck away, and 1 always give him two, one for each cheek, and though his cheeks bulge out until he can hardly breathe, he isn't to be kept from talking.
For just a wee bit of a boy, little Esteban has an awfully big opinion of himself—I mean he gets cocky sometimes and doesn't like to get sassed at, and when he gets mad, he spits out those cinnamon drops and usually hits what he's aiming at, which is more often than not my good right eye. But when you don't get him to acting nasty, and when he's shooting off his mouth, every once in a great while, he will say something maybe worthwhile listening to. And when he does, I give him a couple more cinnamon drops and listen very attentively as he rattles endlessly on.
I was straightening out the room one day after arrival in Poston, at the brand new camp. Number Three, when I heard someone scrambling up the wall outside. I looked up and there poking through the window was Little Esteban, his black chubby face broken up into a huge grin.
"How", said he.
"How, yourself," said I. "Come on in."
And Little Esteban clambered down, sat on top of a crate and immediately commenced filling his mouth with cinnamon drops which were in a bag lying on the floor.
"Well, kiddo, he said, "how do you like Poston?"
"I don't know," said I "we just got here and we're trying to get used to the place. Awful hot, though, isn't it ? I don't see how the people are going to do any work around here in this heat. At least you won't get any work out of me."
"Yeah, kiddo, it's hot all right," said Little Esteban, "but how about those kids you see playing out there right under the hot sun—they don't seem to mind the heat, and you're kicking. Those kids are really having a lot of fun-—you should complain-—phooey."
"But those kids," said I, mopping off my forehead with the third handkerchief of the day, "those kids are playing games and they aren't mindful of the heat."
"Sure kiddo," said Little Esteban, "that's exactly the point. They're occupied with something to do, so their minds aren't on the heat. You ought to be occupied doing something too, and you won't notice the heat either."
"Is that so?" said I, "but what can I do?"
"Anything," said Little Esteban, "there's a job for everyone here. The employment division, they tell me, is doing a great job trying to fit people into the kind of work where they'll be of the best service to the community. Maybe such as in your case where you've just come into a new camp, you won't get started in your type of work right away, but you can always help in the mess kitchen*."
"Yeah," said I, "I guess I can be doing something useful around here after all."
"Look, kiddo," said Little Esteban, and he was getting serious,"you might as well face the facts and look at it realistically."
I began wondering what he would say next—he spat out the cinnamon balls, looked me straight in the eye, and began, "You ought to decide right now whether you want to be happy or unhappy here. If you're going to be happy, you'll get it out of feeling that you're doing something useful, and the degree of that happiness will depend a lot upon whether you do a good job of it or not. And if you do your level best, you're going to find others around you not wanting to be left behind, and when you have everyone entering into the spirit of the thing, then before long the camp will be humming.
"Don't you see, kiddo," and Little Esteban was not worked up into an excited state, "you've got more than just the responsibility of a smooth running community for the best interest of all the residents—you're got the bigger responsibility of proving to the Army and the government and the American people that we are not slackers and that we still have a certain amount of just plain guts left in us which we can apply towards social ends."
"Yeah," said I, feeling small and awfully ashamed of myself, since I was doing nothing toward community betterment. "I guess I'll go on over to the kitchen and help them clean the pots and pans—-there probably won't be a big rush of people for that kind of work."
And the next day as I was gently scouring out a big aluminum cauldron, someone tapped on the window screen. It was Little Esteban again.
"How," said he, "so you're making good on what I said the other day."
"Yup," said I, "and you're right—-when you're working, the heat doesn't get you so bad, and besides, there's a swell bunch of kids working in here. Not bad, not bad at all."
"Oh, you mean the gals aren't bad?" sad Little Esteban and then he disappeared behind the sage-brushes.
TWO HUNDRED ATTEND POSTON PARTY FOR BLOCK MANAGERS
POSTON, Ariz.—Two hundred persons attended the Block Managers' get together on July 30, at which a show was put on by the Hawaiian orchestra and the Salinas Swing Band.
The program opened at 9:15 p. m. with Tomo Ito as master of ceremonies. Following his introduction of Wade Head, project director, John Evans, assistant project director, Project Attorney Haas and Mr. Galvin, the Salinas Swingsters, led by Tom Masamori, took over. Masamori sang, "Rose Marie," "Sleepy Lagoon," and "Skylark."
The Kamaaina orchestra next appeared with Toshi Yatsuhiro leading. Terry Maeda gave a magnificent hula dance. Setsuko Sato gave a hula tap number. Encored was the dance duet of Florence Ikeda and Kazu Ikeda. Ross Arita and Dorothy Kikuchi sang solos, while Sam Yamamoto, in a mop skirt, danced a novelty number to the tune of "Cockeyed Mayor of Kaunakakai."
The Kamaaina orchestra next appeared with Toshi Yatsuhiro leading. Terry Maeda gave a magnificent hula dance. Setsuko Sato gave a hula tap number. Encored was the dance duet of Florence Ikeda and Kazu Ikeda. Ross Arita and Dorothy Kikuchi sang solos, while Sam Yamamoto, in a mop skirt, danced a novelty number to the tune of "Cockeyed Mayor of Kaunakakai."