Memories of Mrs. Eto

I grew up next door to the Eto Family on Foster Avenue in Chicago. Mrs. Eto was like a second mother to me. I have lovely memories of the gatherings in her home -- lots of people in and out, singing around the piano, concerts in the parlor, and wonderful, delightful food that I think of today as my comfort food.
As a child, when I would decide to tackle some particularly daunting weed patch in the backyard, she was suddenly there beside me, weeding. If I had a headache, she'd try to cure it with massage. The first time I was left in the house on my own, she came to check on me. She would cut my sister's hair and mine. She crocheted long ponchos for us -- dark blue yarn for me, complete with tasseled trim that I felt was just the coolest piece of clothing ever made.
She seemed to tolerate all the bugs and amphibians captured and collected in her yard until she discovered mosquito larvae were being cultivated in a small aquarium on a ledge under the stairs. I had never witnessed her fury before. It was impressive. The larvae were discovered the next morning, dispatched by kitchen cleanser.
When Mrs. Eto moved back to California she gave us a package of forget-me-not seeds that we planted in the garden. The seeds were not necessary. I will always remember her strength, her hospitality, and the generous warmth of her personality.

Yankee Dawg You Die

Many years ago, when I had only met Ruth a few times, her daughter, Leslie, (who wrote the first memorial here) and I took Ruth to the theater to see a 2-person play called "Yankee Dawg You Die." It was a comedy about two Japanese-American actors in Hollywood, and it was quite funny. But it started with the younger actor doing an angry diatribe, rap-style, about the treatment of Japanese-Americans during World War II, and the camps. That subject was never really explored in the rest of the show. As we were walking out, we asked Ruth how she had liked the play, and she said, "I want to know what happened to that first part!"

It took me few moments to understand that I had come face to face - for the first and only time - with the justifiable rage that this small, friendly, somewhat formal and usually quiet woman must have carried with her all her life. I remember feeling grateful, as a white American, that the rage was obviously not directed at me personally.

While my core memory of Ruth will always be of her smiling her warm (and somehow slightly mischievous) smile, I will never forget that moment.

Ruth Rutsuko Saika Eto

Ruth's parents, Shichizo and Hanaye Saika, (and her aunt, Nobuko Ito) were charter members of the Christ United Methodist Church in Santa Maria, California.
She and her husband, Joe, lived in Chicago until 1990, when they retired and moved back to California. where they were born. They were members of Christian Fellowship Church; she was the choir director and Joe was a singer (tenor & bass) in the choir.
She had just celebrated her 90th birthday on Feb 21st with the family. She'd been previously diagnosed with congestive heart failure, but continued to enjoy her daily light gardening and sweeping leaves off the lanai.
One week later, she fell and went to the ER, where her heart condition worsened. Joe brought her home on March 12th for home hospice care. She was so happy to be at home, in Joe's care, surrounded by all her kids (Elizabeth Susan, Noel, Leslie, Joel & Ty), grandkids (Dave, Jennifer & Jessica), daughter-in-law (Anh), brother-in-law (Dave) and sisters-in-law (Mitsi & Dian). She is, additionally, survived by her sister, Mary Kawano, Mary's son, Robert (wife Mary, son Alex & daughter Mari), and Mary's daughter,Elinor Lee (husband Ross, sons Ryan & Brendan).
Ruth passed away peacefully, in no pain, on March 21st, with Joe by her side, holding her back and hand.