Guam Liberation Day - July 21, 2013

Guam Liberation Day - July 21, 1944 ...

Hafa adai - Hello!

Tomorrow is the 69th anniversary of the Liberation of Guam by the US Military - although at the time this will be published, it will already be "the" day - on Guam, "Where America's Day Begin's ... "

The island became an American territory in the late 1800's, and was under American rule, except for the years 1941-1944, when it was under Japanese occupation. I write this as a proud daughter, granddaughter, and niece to the many members of my family who witnessed this event ... and who suffered through the horrendous Japanese occupation during World War II. I can only imagine how they coped with the situation. I salute those, both military and civilian, who gave their lives to free my family, my people ... and I humbly sit at the feet of those who endured the horrors of being interred in the concentration camps. They were equally as brutal as those in Europe, though not as well published. I am blessed to know that I will NEVER have to suffer what my family did, because of the sacrifices already made.


First Flag raised on Guam



My father doesn't talk too much of what went on during that time in his life. He was born in 1939, and by the time the Japanese invaded the island in 1941, not long after the attack on Pearl Harbor, he was 2-years-old, the 5th child of 7. His youngest sister was an infant, and his mom was pregnant with his youngest brother. I remember the stories my Dad told me of the entire family being herded into Manengon Concentration Camp, and of their long trek, walking to it ... of how all of the children (and adults) had to be quiet, and be respectful, obey, and bow to the Japanese soldiers ... lest they succumb to beatings or even death by bayonet. I know that a vast majority of the "strong and virile" men were taken into the caves at the beach and beheaded. It was certainly no way to live as a child ... or as a human being.


Asan Landing



Dad's youngest brother [Francisco Lizama Taitano] was born, although he died from malnutrition in the camp, and was buried - somewhere unknown - as the family marched along the camp trail. His mom soon followed in death, as she had an illness following Uncle Frankie's birth, and was discharged from the hospital to make way for the Japanese military wounded. We don't know where Grandma [Joaquina Crisostomo Lizama] is buried to this day. My father told me that as the family was on the way to the family cemetery with her, ready for burial, the bombings began, and so they buried her quickly at the side of the road, and went to safety. When they returned, the geography was unrecognizable from the bombing raid, and they never found her to bury her properly. Dad told me stories of how Grandpa [Carlos Flores Taitano] would swim underwater in the river that ran through the camp, and leave to go get food for everyone and return. His comings and goings were not noticed by the soldiers guarding them ... but he would do that, sacrifice HIS safety, to keep his family, and as many others as possible, adequately fed.

Our family was quite prominent on the island ... and they owned several large tracts of land, and served within the government. During the occupation, the Japanese forced my family, and many others to convert our land in the central portion of Guam into an airfield. This land eventually became Harmon Field. My family broke their backs working. When the American military came, they took some of our land at the northern end of the island to establish the Air Force Base.


Showing the Colors



I remember stories my Dad told me, of his blind Grandfather [Juan San Nicolas Taitano] and how Dad went out to save him, leading him to safety, when he saw bullets striking the grass around him, from airplanes flying above. He told me he would lay in the long grass above the beach, obscured from view, and watch the military planes fly over his head. He also told me that when the US Military finally did come and liberate the island, he would sing and dance to amuse the soldiers.


Guam Liberation Memorial



There are so many things to be thankful for ... for the fact that my family got through this experience, despite their losses, as strong and as "ornery" as ever. Having lived through this, obviously made all of the Guamanians (known as Chamorros) VERY pro-American, and I don't doubt that the vast majority of them joined the US military as a result ...as did my Dad. Guam is still a Trust Territory of the United States, and the Guam Organic Act of 1950, signed into law by President Harry S. Truman, provided US Citizenship to the residents of Guam. Many interesting war-related relics STILL pepper the island to this day ... and the well-known story of Sgt. Yokoi, the Japanese soldier, who hid out in the Guam boonies (jungle) until 1973 - not knowing the war was over - is always retold. What I have learned, based on their experiences, is the resilience and strength of my family, my people.

I will close with love and rememberance on this special day on my Island of Guam ... to my family, I send love ... to those who were involved in the liberation - and to their families who sacrificed - I send my unending gratitude.

Si Yu'us ma'ase - Thank you

"Spam" ... because I can ... and as a wink to my Chamorro Family/Friends ...

Photo Credits:
Guam Historical Photo's: Guampedia.com

Guam Spam: Tumblr

The Last Family Portrait ...

 

My Dad's personal story may be totally unique and foreign to those folks that live here in the USA today ... but to my family and the servicemen that lived through it on Guam, then, during WWII, it was all too real. As we approach July 21, Guam's Liberation Day holiday, the stories my father told me of that time are front and center in my mind.

• Stories of Papan Batchit, his blind grandfather, and Mama Ling, his grandmother, on their ranch before WWII and during the Japanese Occupation
• Stories of their march to Manengon, the Concentration camp during WWII
• Stories of his father always escaping the camp by swimming down the river, returning with food
• Stories of Japanese brutality in the camp
• The story of losing his mother and his newborn baby brother, and burying them in unmarked graves --- their brother during the march, and their mother during a bombing raid
• Stories of my dad singing and dancing for the soldiers

After the war, my father and his siblings, now without their mother, were divided up within the large family to be taken care of. His father remarried and started another family. He, then, died several years later, at a relatively young age, so, my father and his siblings were left without both parents. Dad was about 4 when his Mom died and was about 14 when his Dad passed away. My father and one of his sisters, had been taken in by his mother's older sister and her husband, for several years. They were a Navy family with 2 young daughters of their own, and in order to be able to continue to stay with them, now they were orphaned, travel and move around with them, they needed to be legally adopted. They got the elders in the family's permission, and changed their last names, and began a new and different chapter in their lives, with their adopted parents and siblings -- although, they always remained very close to their biological siblings.

Looking back to that time, I know we have no pictures or records of my Dad's mom ... his biological Mom ... Joaquina.

I have always been interested in genealogy and the family tree and have spent hours and hours on looking up and researching our family tree on the internet on Ancestry.com, and have incorporated and cross-referenced the records given to me from my husbands side of the family and from my Dad's side of the family in the form of Uncle Richard F. Taitano's Family Records. There is also a huge Chamorro Roots Genealogy Roots Project that is trying to help Guamanians/Chamorros with their family trees.

I had a feeling that I needed to find Joaquina ... that I needed to find her for my Dad. I knew that the 1940 Census' were being released in April ... 72 years after they had been taken, for privacy reasons ... I knew that this was the only way that I might be able to see her ... if she was there ... before the war came to Guam ... with her family surrounding her ... before they were separated and divided ...

My Dad would have been 4 months old in April of 1940. He would have been the youngest, with 4 older than him. His younger sister Connie would not have been born yet ... and the brother he lost in the war, Frankie, would not have been born, either. I asked Dad where they would have been living. He said they would have been living in either Agana or Barrigada, or they would have been down in Janum, their beach property, away from everyone, and away from the count.

I accessed the Guam 1940 census early. It was un-indexed, so I had to go through each page ... for each of the villages -- Agana and Baragada ... looking at each name for a familiar "face" in each name. I searched high and low, to no avail ... and I thought that there was no hope ... I thought that I'd never find them.

A couple of weeks later, I started looking again. I decided that I would download every single town or village in the Guam Census of 1940 and look in EVERY SINGLE page to be sure that perhaps I didn't overlook some family member. I looked in Agana ... I looked in Baragada ... and I wondered why I didn't see any familiar names. I found Grandma Garrido ... I found Grandpa Garrido! I found some of the Taitano family in Agana and Baragada. Where was the rest of my Taitano family? I decided to look in Dededo ...

... AND THERE THEY WERE ...

a whole bunch of them, all on Papan Batchit's ranch ... including:

• My Great-Grand Father - Juan SN Taitano (Papan Batchit) - 54
• My Great-Grand Mother - Rosario F Taitano (Mama Ling) - 50
• My Grand Father - Carlos F Taitano - 29
• My Grand Mother - Joaquina L Taitano - 23
• My Uncle - Carlos L Taitano - 7
• My Uncle - Juan L Taitano - 5
• My Aunt - Rosita L Taitano - 3
• My Aunt - Esther L Taitano - 2
• My Dad - Jose L Taitano - 4 months old

It was around 3:00 AM ... I screamed ... I cried ... I sobbed some more ... I called my Dad on the West Coast ... and I cried again. It was hard to put it into words ...

It was no disrespect, at all to Grandma Garrido, her sister, the only Grandma I've ever known, who raised my Dad ... who raised a lot of the kids during that time ... NO WAY ... NEVER ... in fact, there are not enough words in this world to describe the love and respect and devotion I have for this wonderful woman.

To me, it was my way to remember Joaquina ... remember, there are no pictures, no records left after the war ... no gravesite ... nowhere to leave a flower or memorium ... no place to honor HER and say, "YES, you are the mother of THESE children, the wife of THIS man ... YOU EXISTED ... YOU MATTER ... and you're my Grandma, too, I have not forgotten that fact!" ... this census STILL makes me cry, as I type this ... it's the last piece of paper ... the last record we have of this intact family ... of Joaquina with her family surrounding her ... with all of the kids with their birth names. It's like a family picture ... the last family portrait ever taken of this family when they were all together ...

I talked to my Dad's wife, the next day, after I sent the pages of the Census to them. She said that he didn't sleep at all that night. She said that he stayed up all night looking at them. It makes me wonder what my 72-year-old Dad must have been feeling while he looked at those pages ... at all of those names on those 2 pages ... with his birth name written there for all to see ...

I hope he knows what a labor of love this was for me ... what this continues to be for me ... what researching the family tree, and genealogy in general, continues to be for me ... but I did do this for him ... and for his siblings ... and for the children and grandchildren ... but primarily for my Dad ... and for Grandma Joaquina.

... and I'm still in tears as I go back to re-read and edit this ... :::sigh:::