LH: So you arrived at Puyallup. And when you entered, do you recall any of the way it looked?

MS: Well, you know, it was a former fairgrounds, which I had never been there before, so I didn't know. But the one thing I remembered was the animal smells, you know, that's how fairs are. You have your animal smells. I remember that. That was very different for me, and then the living quarters, of course, were some of the stalls and some of the buildings. But we had one of the row of stalls and so therefore the smells were greater there. And I remember that there were cots and, for some reason, some kind of mattress. It wasn't the kind of mattress I was used to but, and then army blankets. And then we had the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. And each stall is yea big, and there weren't ceilings. They did not come to the top, so the walls, excuse me, didn't come to the ceiling. So you could see all the way across. If you climbed up on something high, you could see all the way to the other end, and voice traveled all the way through.

LH: So you're all there together with your mother, your father, your two brothers, and yourself. And in a barrack?

MS: Yes, we had one. [Laughs] It wasn't even a barrack -- it was a stall. It literally was a stall. And they told us it was temporary, so they just had to get us all assembled there so that they'll know which camps we're going to. So we had an idea that this was temporary and that's where we're supposed to get ready for this. So part of that was inoculations; we all had to have a series of shots.

LH: Now, what was that to prevent?

MS: Diphtheria and small pox and you name it. But I remember having at least three or four because my arms were just sore and then there were scabs. You know, these black scabs that came out. [Laughs] And I remember feeling like that must be how cows and animals feel like. Because we were all lined up, and we had to have a couple shots at a time, 'cause they couldn't, we couldn't keep coming back. So I remember having two shots and then being very ill for at least. . . I felt ill about it, and a sore arm.

LH: I can imagine that's a pretty vivid memory for a six-year-old.

MS: I remember those things that were kind of painful, and that definitely was a painful time.

LH: Do you recall -- is there any other memory that sort of sticks out in your mind about that time?

MS: Well, one of the things I thought were kind of strange was that we had the barbed wire fencing all around the fairgrounds. And there was a road that passed by close to the fairgrounds. And there were, they would bring busloads of non-Japanese people, and they would actually let 'em off and let them look at us like we were, you know, like we were caged animals. And I used to remember, "Why are they doing that?" But they actually came and looked at us while we were behind barbed wire fencing there. That was a little bit weird for me. I just remember we used to do gyrations. [Laughs]

LH: That's the first mention I've heard of these tour buses.

MS: Yeah. Well, they were either tour buses or buses that happened to stop by 'cause we were right along the main drag. And they actually let the people off and let 'em look at us and they'd go back. And I could hear them saying some things, you know, not quite understanding but just knowing that they were looking at us. So we must have been some kind of attraction for this group to come and look at us.

LH: And they were up against the barbed wire, looking in?

MS: Well, they didn't come too close to us 'cause we were near the wire and I think they were a little bit worried about what we might do.

LH: Were there ever any warnings from your parents about the barbed wire or the guards?

MS: Only that to obey whatever they told us to do. Only that. They didn't. . . I just. . . I have to say, I don't remember feeling threatened by them. Halfway just wondering why they were there and why they had guns. Because I couldn't imagine any of us doing anything. Of course, you know, I'm so young. Maybe the older folks might have been threatening to them, but I never felt, as a child, but everything is from a child, six-year-old's perspective.

LH: About how long were you at "Camp Harmony"?

MS: I think we were there for a few months. We weren't there for over that time. And then when my parents told us that we're going to be moving again, because I was wondering why they were getting the things all ready again. And I said, "Oh, where are we going?" Well, we're gonna. . . they said far away 'cause I wouldn't know where Minidoka was. So they said, "Far away," and enough so that we'd have to take a train to go there.

LH: So you arrived at Puyallup. And when you entered, do you recall any of the way it looked?

MS: Well, you know, it was a former fairgrounds, which I had never been there before, so I didn't know. But the one thing I remembered was the animal smells, you know, that's how fairs are. You have your animal smells. I remember that. That was very different for me, and then the living quarters, of course, were some of the stalls and some of the buildings. But we had one of the row of stalls and so therefore the smells were greater there. And I remember that there were cots and, for some reason, some kind of mattress. It wasn't the kind of mattress I was used to but, and then army blankets. And then we had the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. And each stall is yea big, and there weren't ceilings. They did not come to the top, so the walls, excuse me, didn't come to the ceiling. So you could see all the way across. If you climbed up on something high, you could see all the way to the other end, and voice traveled all the way through.

LH: So you're all there together with your mother, your father, your two brothers, and yourself. And in a barrack?

MS: Yes, we had one. [Laughs] It wasn't even a barrack -- it was a stall. It literally was a stall. And they told us it was temporary, so they just had to get us all assembled there so that they'll know which camps we're going to. So we had an idea that this was temporary and that's where we're supposed to get ready for this. So part of that was inoculations; we all had to have a series of shots.

LH: Now, what was that to prevent?

MS: Diphtheria and small pox and you name it. But I remember having at least three or four because my arms were just sore and then there were scabs. You know, these black scabs that came out. [Laughs] And I remember feeling like that must be how cows and animals feel like. Because we were all lined up, and we had to have a couple shots at a time, 'cause they couldn't, we couldn't keep coming back. So I remember having two shots and then being very ill for at least. . . I felt ill about it, and a sore arm.

LH: I can imagine that's a pretty vivid memory for a six-year-old.

MS: I remember those things that were kind of painful, and that definitely was a painful time.

LH: Do you recall -- is there any other memory that sort of sticks out in your mind about that time?

MS: Well, one of the things I thought were kind of strange was that we had the barbed wire fencing all around the fairgrounds. And there was a road that passed by close to the fairgrounds. And there were, they would bring busloads of non-Japanese people, and they would actually let 'em off and let them look at us like we were, you know, like we were caged animals. And I used to remember, "Why are they doing that?" But they actually came and looked at us while we were behind barbed wire fencing there. That was a little bit weird for me. I just remember we used to do gyrations. [Laughs]

LH: That's the first mention I've heard of these tour buses.

MS: Yeah. Well, they were either tour buses or buses that happened to stop by 'cause we were right along the main drag. And they actually let the people off and let 'em look at us and they'd go back. And I could hear them saying some things, you know, not quite understanding but just knowing that they were looking at us. So we must have been some kind of attraction for this group to come and look at us.

LH: And they were up against the barbed wire, looking in?

MS: Well, they didn't come too close to us 'cause we were near the wire and I think they were a little bit worried about what we might do.

LH: Were there ever any warnings from your parents about the barbed wire or the guards?

MS: Only that to obey whatever they told us to do. Only that. They didn't. . . I just. . . I have to say, I don't remember feeling threatened by them. Halfway just wondering why they were there and why they had guns. Because I couldn't imagine any of us doing anything. Of course, you know, I'm so young. Maybe the older folks might have been threatening to them, but I never felt, as a child, but everything is from a child, six-year-old's perspective.

LH: About how long were you at "Camp Harmony"?

MS: I think we were there for a few months. We weren't there for over that time. And then when my parents told us that we're going to be moving again, because I was wondering why they were getting the things all ready again. And I said, "Oh, where are we going?" Well, we're gonna. . . they said far away 'cause I wouldn't know where Minidoka was. So they said, "Far away," and enough so that we'd have to take a train to go there.

Barbie Turns 21

What is no taller than a daisy, drives a Corvette and always, always gets invited to the prom? The Barbie doll, of course, the diminutive clotheshorse who will be 21 next year and still reigns as a princess in a court of girlhood heroines that includes Nancy Drew and Miss America. Barbie has been displayed at the Smithsonian, sealed in time capsules, and saluted by Betty Ford. Since Mattel, Inc. introduced her in 1959, more Barbies probably have been bought—112 million at last count—than any other doll. To celebrate her birthday Barbie threw a party at her new two-story Dream House. A flock of Barbies old and new turned out in a festive hodgepodge of dresses, jodhpurs and bikinis, bringing a mix of ever-courtly Kens in tow. The original doll, in her trademark striped swimsuit, stands behind the cake. At her side is the newest Barbie, who wears a dainty floor-length frock and blows kisses at the touch of a panel on her back. Despite the frowns of feminists, last year about $160 million worth of Barbies, similar dolls, their clothes, houses and other accoutrements were sold, making the fashion-doll business a stylish slice of the toy industry.

Tiny Chic

Before Barbie came along, dolls were cuddled, diapered and burped. But 11 ½ inch Barbie had a most unbabylike shape (5 ½-3-4 ¾), the fine-boned face of a model and 21 chic ensembles. She was meant to be dressed, coiffed and used, as her creator and ex-Mattel president Ruth Handler puts it, "to project every little girl's dream of the future." About a thousand outfits have been made for Barbie; the sheer number of them makes Mattel the top manufacturer of women’s clothing in the world. In the fashion parade on these pages, Barbies model a selection of the outfits that faithfully copied couture trends of the day such as bubble skirts (’59), snug sheaths (’61) and tailored suits (’66). They show an almost microscopic attention to detail, from hand-stitched hemlines to tiny gold buttons.

New Looks

To stay in vogue, Barbie’s wardrobe has included midis, minis and maxis, granny gowns (’73) and goucho pants (’77). In ’71 she made an appearance as a tie-dyed rock singer; by last year she was sporting a peppy jogging outfit. Her face and hairstyles have also undergone an impressive series of changes, with the crimson lips and nails, heavy eye makeup, ponytails and pageboys gradually giving way to some 40 alterations. When Mattel discovered in the early ‘70s that brunettes and redheads weren’t selling, it began offering blond Barbies almost exclusively. The consistent best-seller is bronzed Malibu Barbie, introduced in ’71 (this year’s model shows 'suntan lines' under her bathing suit). Another favorite is Superstar Barbie (’77), whose toothy smile and glossy tresses bear an uncanny likeness to a certain ex-Charlie’s Angel. Transformations aside, however, Barbie retains her wholesome image. The frothy wedding gown, re-created annually, remains the most popular dress in Barbie’s collection.

Phoenix, Arizona, July 4 – The largest Indian school in the Southwest and the second largest in the Union is that in the Salt River Valley, near this place. It is unique in several respects. It is patronized by the Apaches, the Pimas, and the Maricopahs, who have until the past two years been the most lawless, intractable, and savage tribes Uncle Sam has had to deal with.

The fifty-seven Pima and Apache girls in the school under the supervision of the matron, learn to cook, wash, sew, and perform all other household duties, in addition to their study of the English language. The superintendent of the school finds the Indian girls less tractable to book learning than the boys, but they have a zeal for neatness in sewing and knitting that is astonishing. Very few of the girls have any taste for arithmetic and the forms of language, but they love to execute brightly colored maps and to draw. They are always much more reserved and diffident than their red-skinned brothers. The boys are handsome fellows, from fourteen to twenty-one years of age, and during certain hours of the day they are compelled to attend to the duties of the farm. They do not do this reluctantly, as one might suppose, but with good will and an apparent anxiety to learn. They are dressed in uniform, their hair kept closely trimmed, and they show their appreciation of the change from almost absolute nudity by keeping their shoes polished and their clothes nicely brushed. In the classroom they excel in arithmetic and spelling, and any exercise that brings the blackboards into use wins their attention. Strange as it may appear, they have not the least liking for exercising in the gymnasium, but in out-of-door sports, such as running races, leaping, and vaulting, they are very proficient.

A recent visit to the Indian school was a revelation in some respects. The writer has known the Pima Indians on their reservation as a fierce, sullen, obstinate, and cruel lot of savages, with a record second to not even the Apaches for horrible butcheries of white settlers and unspeakable barbarities upon their enemies in warfare. It was therefore a surprise to see over 150 of the boys and girls of these desert savages come marching into the chapel with military precision, dressed in handsome, neat-fitting garments, wearing linen shirts, and with their hair brushed with as much nicety as that of a city dude.

The surprise did not end there. When the opening hymn was announced one of Apache girls that five months before was running wild on the desert south of the Gila readily turned to the number, and, handing the writer the book, asked in good English if he would not take part with them.

Some of them sing splendidly, and Prof. Rich, the Superintendent of the school, says that they are natural musicians. Several of the younger ones have learned to play the organ, and with the French harp they will make an average city gamin ashamed of himself. Hugh Patten, one of the monitors, plays the piano very well, having picked the accomplishment up without any instruction, only being aided by his natural aptitude for music. This Indian is a peculiarity in Indian life. Some years ago he learned the English language, and acted as an interpreter from that time till the opening of the school, which he entered, where he has since remained. He discarded his Indian name and assumed an English one, and in the three years he has acquired a good English education. He is of medium size, rather dark, but with the prepossessing appearance of a student. He has done much to induce his people to adopt civilization, and is , of course, a warm friend of the school.