Harry Chiba

CHIBA: Harry .On January 9, 2011, long time Belgo orchardist, Harry Chiba, passed away at the age of 93. He was predeceased by infant son, Don, in 1946 and wife of 55 years, Eiko, in 1999. Harry is survived by sister, Toshiko Shirai of Kelowna; brother, Mutsuo Chiba of Hope; daughters: June (Roy) Demcheson of Burnaby, Heather (Paul) Keating, Kathy (Robert) Stearns, Elaine (Ken) Tucker of Kelowna, Geri (Wayne) Bradford of Mission; grandchildren: Tamiko Keating (Colin Easterbrook), Naomi Keating (Travis Saunders), Jeff Stearns (Jen Kato), Amanda Stearns, Kelsey Stearns, Kelli (Kerry) Williams, Justin Tucker, Wayne (Candace) Bradford, Kim (Stu) Harvey, Curtis Bradford (Laura McMillan) and great grandchildren: Shaun and Emily Williams, Makenna and Jordan Bradford, Owen and Quinlyn Harvey. In June 1917, Harry was born in Shorts Point, Okanagan Lake now Fintry. He was schooled in Japan and Vernon. Before WW II Harry returned to Vernon to farm. There he met and married Eiko Koga in 1944. In the 1950’s they began farming in the Rutland area and for the next three decades, the family worked the Belgo orchard. After their retirement in 1980, Harry and Eiko were even busier. Harry hunted with friends for years. They made many more friends as they travelled, fished, camped, and bowled. Harry continued to bowl until 92. Even in his 93rd year, he planted a garden. Over the years many family and friends received countless bags of vegetables every summer. We will all miss Harry and the vegetables. The funeral will be held on Saturday, January 15 at 2:00 p.m. at the First United Church, 721 Bernard Avenue at Richter, Kelowna BC. In lieu of flowers or koden, a donation can be made to the charity of your choice. Condolences may be sent to the family by visiting www.mem.com Arrangements entrusted with First Memorial Funeral Services, Kelowna. 250-762-2299

Speech for Grandpa Chiba by Jeff – on behalf of the grandkids and great grandkids------Please enjoy this short documentary I created for Grandpa Chiba to celebrate his incredible and remarkable life.

For us cousins, of which there are 10 of us, Grandpa and Grandma Chiba were a large facet of our childhood. Until I was tall enough to pick apples I spent my days with them. They babysat us while our parents worked harvesting apples in the orchard Grandpa and Grandma had planted so many years ago. Thus growing up, Grandpa Chiba always seemed old to me but he was timeless. Year after year, he I didn’t seem to age. His hair…or lack of hair was always the same, along with his plaid style button up shirt and worker pants. He never seemed to slow down. For almost 30 years of my life he could always be found out working in his garden, hunting, bowling, or on a fishing trip. My parents bought grandma and grandpa’s orchard from them so we were neighbors as I grew up. When my friends came to help work in the orchard they found it amazing that when they arrived to work, grandpa would be in the garden working away, and when they left, grandpa was still out there in the garden. They even nicknamed him…Grandpa Cheebs. I started to really admire Grandpa Chiba’s dedication. I would tell people that when I get older that’s how I want to be…still healthy, driving, and working hard with passion. Here was this 90-year-old man - independent and living as if he were a 60-year-old man. As I drove by him in the garden, he would always just throw up his hand in a half wave with his head down as he tended his crop of peas, onions, and tomatoes. They were his life and he instilled in me the realization that as long as I lived with a sense of purpose you wouldn’t age. So, the day he stopped gardening I knew that he was tired.Grandpa wasn’t the kind of Grandpa that gave out hugs freely...he just wasn’t a huggy kind of guy. As I got older, I started to realize why that may have been. Although, deep down he was a grandpa that cared greatly for his grandkids and family. His garden supplied me with desperately needed nourishment through my college years…and he knew that. I remember coming home for visits and my mom would tell me that he wanted me to have some of the fish and Tsukemino he made. He was also eager to give me whatever fresh vegetables he had grown. Vegetables he had spent his entire life perfecting from the age of 12. Anytime I needed some vegetables from his garden he was quick to come out and hand pick a few tomatoes for me, cut the stems off the onions, and bundle me a bunch of spinach.Cousin Kelli remembers how Grandpa kept Chicklets in his truck, fruit flavoured ones. Some of us even remember him leaving his window open on hot summer days and sneaking a piece of two while he wasn’t around. He also used to pile the grandkids in his truck and take us down to the packinghouse to visit grandma at work. Afterwards, he would always stop and get us popsicles and as Kelli remembers, the rootbeer flavored ones. It was truly a great day when we discovered his hidden bag of hard candy in the drawer by the washing machine. I’m sure he noticed how the bag magically depleted and I’m sure deep down he liked that.

Talking to him was sometimes challenging. It wasn’t until later in my life when I realized why that might have been. Sometimes I found myself talking to him the same way he spoke to us. Slow short sentences, ending each sentence with “eh”, and grunting a bit. I’m not sure why I felt compelled to do this but it was almost like were speaking our own language.When an article was written on my work in a Japanese-Canadian publication, I found out from my mom that he had it translated to Japanese so he could send it to his distant family in Japan. He spent $150 to do it. Knowing how thrifty he was with his money, I realized at that point he was proud of me. Although, he would never directly tell me that! During the last few years of Grandpa’s life, I was able to sit down and talk with him about his history and thoughts. He was a many of few words. But I could tell he had some remarkable stories in him. Although, stories he didn’t want to tell or purposely forgot some details and facts when I brought out the video camera. As Canadian as he had become, I think deep down he was still bound by deep Japanese traditions to never bring shame to your family – especially recalling some of his more dubious stories.

Great stories like the time he traveled to Vancouver at the start of WWII and smuggled his interned friend’s car out of Hastings Park so it wouldn’t be confiscated. As he drove it out of the 100 mile restricted zone he was stopped by a cop, and what I understand, he had to pose as Chinese man to get out of being apprehended. So in his youth he was an adventurous man and the more I spoke to him the more I realized I had a lot in common both in mannerisms and personality. I never knew until I go older, but after talking to him, I realized that the way he was had a lot to do with how life had hardened him. He had lived a long but at times a difficult life – He was born in Canada but at the age of 6 would spend 5 years away from his parents in Japan only to travel back to Canada at the age of 11 where he struggled in school because he couldn’t speak English…Thus only making it to grade 7 when his parents pulled him out to work on the farm. Later as a teenager he would leave to Vancouver to pursue an education and hopefully improve his English only to find himself in Japantown working long hours for little pay. A war that was unjust to Japanese-Canadians brought him back to the Okanagan where he experienced hardships when frost wiped out his entire newly planted orchard, endured racism, personal tragedy, a near death injury, and a family accident no father should ever have to experience. Although, I began to realize that even though he grew up hardened, deep down he remained loving. Realizing he lived almost a century makes me understand that no matter how difficult things were in the beginning, he spent the best years of his life surrounded by a huge loving family. A family that revolved around two heart beats. The heart-beats of two loving parents – of two loving grandparents – and two loving great great-grandparents. Grandpa Chiba will and shall always remain a role model to all of us grandkids and great grandkids. When Grandpa Chiba was 91, I had a chance to interview him.

Yesterday, my 93 year old Grandpa passed away. It was no surprise. He was 93. He wanted to go awhile ago. He was done. He'd broken his hip and then he got pneumonia. He was born here, not in Japan like you might think. He did go back as a child to live there for a few years, but came back to Canada. He was an avid bowler, right up to the last year. He had a huge vegetable garden, at least 4x the size of my sad garden, complete with green houses. He always had gardening advice for us. He usually sold his vegetable at a local store. We always celebrated Christmas at his house on Christmas Eve. Always. He carved the turkey. Everyone brought something. Sweet potatoes, coleslaw, ham, salads, desserts, you always ate too much.He sat at the head of the table. He liked his sweets. He always had a bag of hard candy in the cupboard. He had 5 daughters. 10 grand children. 6 great grandchildren, and one more in a few months. He liked to fish. He used to take us to see Grandma at the packing house, sometimes stopping to pick up popsicles, root beer ones. He always had a pack of Fruit flavoured Chicklets in is truck and when it was parked in the carport, he'd leave the window open when it was hot, and I remember stealing a piece of gum when ever we could.I think he liked to travel, I remember their trips to Hawaii, and Japan, with lots of photos taken. He's with Grandma now.

Written by: Kelli Williams