It was now time for Ricky to be naturalized. My parents came to visit for the month of December, so they were in on the ceremony. I was sorry Dale couldn’t come home. I had Power of Attorney so I could sign for him.
We all went in to the crowded court room in Kansas City. There were people there from many countries. Each one was given a small flag, a Declaration of Independence, and several other items, by the Daughters of the American Revolution.
We waited and waited. Over an hour went by. Ricky was getting restless as he continued to roll up his flag or wave it around his head. The old judge finally arrived, and the attendant said, “All rise.” Ricky refused to stand up. What had gotten into that child?
He said, in a loud whisper, “I’m not standing for any late, old judge.” I pulled him to his feet with firmness. The judge rambled on and on about how he had been a page in the Senate at Jefferson City and a lot of other facts that Ricky cared nothing about.
Finally, the names were called and Ricky was presented his naturalization papers. There was a reception, but after all that time, Ricky was in no mood for a reception.
On the way home, Ricky told us he was no longer a Japanese, he was an American. We tried to explain that he was both, but he insisted—he was just like the rest of us. That was fine. He would get it all sorted out when he was older.
Chapter 5 to follow
