Japanese Only
A Chance Encounter with a Kamikaze Pilot Who Lived To Tell His Story
My Life in Vignettes (Table of Contents)
“Sometimes all it takes is a tiny shift of perspective to see something familiar in a totally new light.”
―Dan Brown,The Lost Symbol
The handwritten sign on the unassuming door said, in English, “Japanese Only.”
I had passed this squat, weathered, grey concrete building many times, walking from Naval Air Facility, Atsugi, Japan, to the train station, headed to Tokyo, or Yokohama.
It wasn’t the kind of place that screamed, “Come in, see what’s here… come, stay awhile.”
It was more the type of place that sighed to itself as I passed, eager not to make eye contact, content that it had safely avoided another visitor.
It was the kind of place that had regulars but rarely made new ones.
I stopped in my tracks… something about the sign had caught my eye, and my brain screamed, “STOP!!! … you have to go in!”
So I did.
I had a hypothesis. There were a few establishments around the base displaying “Japanese Only” signs. I believed they were displayed because the proprietors or staff didn’t want to deal with American…
