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I lived in San Pedro, California, which is, you know, on the west side of California, and it's where many, many Japanese lived.

During World War II, law-abiding Japanese-American citizens were herded into remote internment camps, losing their jobs, businesses and social standing, while an all-Japanese-American division fought heroically in Europe.

If we look at American history, between 1942 and 1947, the data that was collected by the Census Bureau was handed over to the FBI and other organizations at the request of President Roosevelt, and that's how the Japanese were rounded up and put into the internment camps.

I have a lot of Japanese friends: I grew up in Vancouver, and there's this huge Japanese population over there.

When the Chinese first came to San Francisco, they were actually welcomed by the mayor and they had special ceremonies for them-again this is when their colony was very small, only a few Chinese.

I love Tokyo, I've been several times. The first trip was just weird; it was a weird time. It was in the '90s, and it was different then.

I've been interested in Japan since the 1930s, when I read about Japan's vicious crimes in Manchuria and China.

And, of course, in the Philippines there were so many thousands of Americans that were captured by the Japanese and held and who were rescued by Filipino Americans, or Filipinos I should say, and by U.S. troops near the close of the war.

In 1986, when I was 21, I lived in Tokyo for four months, boarding with a Japanese family and working for an American company.

I loved Japan. I used to read a lot about it when I was a child. And I always wanted to go. And it was delightful. I absolutely loved it. What a smashing place.