AKAMATSU​,​ Saburo

I finished high school back home, and when I turned eighteen, I came to the United States. I went through high school here again, then attended Southern Methodist University in Texas, and afterward Emory University in Georgia. In 1934, I came to New York and studied at a seminary and at Columbia University. While I was at Columbia, the pastor here passed away, and I took over his position. For a while, I also worked for the South Manchuria Railway office in New York. If you ask what was hard—it was merging the three Japanese churches that used to exist in New York. Having three little churches didn’t make sense, but it took eleven years to bring them together. Everyone was so stubborn, each wanting to be the leader. Finally, in 1953, we managed to unite them. Later, in 1970, it cost half a million dollars to build a new church. You know, our generation—the Issei—are getting older. The Nisei are scattering, and the Sansei hardly come around. So I thought it was fine to continue as a mission church. When I first came here, I saw Japanese people being discriminated against. It made me angry. When I thought about how to help people, I decided to become a minister. In California, especially, discrimination was strong. Before the war, I was arrested and sent to Ellis Island. There was a hearing, and three prominent American citizens questioned me. I told them, “Here on Ellis Island, there are many people who have lost faith in the sound democratic spirit of America. Why? Because they’re denied the right to become citizens. If America is fighting abroad for democracy, then it should practice it at home. If the United States would grant naturalization rights to Japanese, Chinese, and Koreans…” After I said that, the hearing ended. You know, America is great in that way—if you make a reasonable argument, they’ll listen. During the war, many people were suffering from what we’d now call neurosis, and I spent a lot of time helping them. There were also quite a few who had stowed away and jumped off ships to get into New York. Later, I was invited to become vice president of the International Christian University in Japan. I was eager to go, but my wife absolutely refused. She didn’t want our children educated in Japan, and she didn’t like how women were treated there. I don’t regret coming to America. But I’ve completely forgotten how to write kanji—though I can still read most of them. My wife is Nisei, born in 1917. We have one son and one daughter. This portrait is part of the DMHJNY's new exhibit Issei: Portraits Of The First-Generation Japanese New Yorkers which is on view here: https://www.historyofjapaneseinny.org/issei/ To learn more about Rev. Akamatsu, visit: https://www.historyofjapaneseinny.org/artifacts/rev-alfred-saburo-akamatsu/