We Travel on an Overcrowded Train Carrying Our Own Provisions

My twenty-sixth birthday came around on September 17, 1946, three months after returning from World War II. As I hadn't taken a holiday in all this time, I decided to go to the movies for a break.

I ran into Yoshie, the daughter of Ryokichi Ueda from the Kakemi store, and her brother, a university student. Yoshie often came to our house since my father was in charge of distributing the postwar rationed goods and rice stamps on our street. At that time, no cars were allowed on Karamasu Street and the streetcar was not yet in sight. As I felt a little embarrassed waiting with her, even though her brother was with her, I left them at the stop and started walking down the street by myself.

After a while, a streetcar went past me but soon all the passengers got off because of some trouble with the streetcar, so we ended up meeting again. They said they were also planning to go to the movies and their mother had caught a cold, so they had one spare ticket. They asked me if I would like to go to the movies with them. Afterwards, we all went to a trearoom, as well.

"I asked her to read a letter I had written concerning what I thought was the proper deportment of a wife. She read it while I took a bath."

Then it was evening. My father and Mr Ueda were attending a meeting and people said that we had all gone to the movies together. The vice-chairman, who was a lawyer, said he wanted to arrange a marriage. As I was vigorously building my business, I had not intended to marry until I reached thirty. My father, however, asked me what I thought of Yoshie. I only replied, "I have no particular bad feelings." From then on we talked often and walked together in the neighborhood, and I met her every holiday.

Finally we were married at the Heian Shrine the day before the spring solstice, 1947. Yoshie was 21 years old. We went on a honeymoon to Nara, hanging on to the straps in the crowded train, and stayed at an old inn by Sarusawa. We brought our own rice. I asked her to read a letter I had written concerning what I thought was the proper deportment of a wife. She read it while I took a bath. I wanted her to work together with me, and for her to support me in my work. I wrote about my expectations for married life in great detail. When I read it again now, I feel self-conscious that I was so nit-picky at that time. I didn't want anything to hamper my devotion to business. Ours was neither a love marriage nor an arranged marriage. It was a "train incident marriage."

"I disguised myself as a bearded man and masqueraded as one of his salesmen who worked in Kobe. The receptionist said, 'Mr Hirano went out for a moment, but please make yourself at home,' and she brought me something to eat."

At that time I was beginning to deal crystal necklaces, and had taken out an advertisement in a trade magazine targeted at wholesalers called "Shiire-Annai" that said, "I am a demobilized soldier in search of customers." It was a start.

Two weeks later, I received a letter from Mr Yoshinao Yoda who had a factory in Yamanashi Prefecture. He stated that they had been a parts supplier for the Nakajima Airplane Plant during the war, but had now returned to manufacturing crystal. They were inconveniently located, but personnel expenses were low and he had confidence in their products. The letter was nicely hand-written in a sincere style.

I gave him 3,000 yen, which was all the money I had at the time, and after a few days I received 3,600 yen worth of goods. I was delightfully surprised with the good will of Mr Yoda, as black-marketeering was rampant in those days.

"I tried to devise a paper pattern in the shape of a bowl by fitting it to the bust of my wife."

As consumer goods were in extremely short supply at the time, my supply sold out at once. I soon sent back 5,500 yen of the revenues by telegraphic transfer and by the time I received the goods, I had already placed another order.

My sales went from 10,000 yen to 100,000 yen in a month. Occasionally Mr Yoda would send me varieties of rice unavailable in Kyoto. At his invitation I went to Yamanashi Prefecture where I was given a cordial reception, and he said, "You will most certainly be a big success in the future. Please stop by my business whenever you have a chance." I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for his kindness. Thereafter he went to great effort to teach me everything he knew about being a merchant, at the risk of damaging his own business.

My business with Mr Yoda continued until 1949 when the sale of crystal necklaces had come full circle, finally petering out. I now had to devote my energies to developing new goods to sell.