Bob Wright
Hawkeye
In February 1959 I was in Tokyo on R&R. There was a station called Shibuya Station. (There were two Shibuya Stations as spelled out in English. (One was pronounced "Shib-ya" the other pronounced She-bu-ya.) Across the street from the terminal was a block of business buildings, one of which was an optometrist shop, with a giant pair of glasses for its sign, which made it easy for me to recognize. This was a large block of stores, all maybe six to eight stories high. Between a couple of these buildings was a dark, narrow alley. Going down this alley I came to an inner block of stores, mostly bars and restaurants, and seemingly going back one hundred years in time. These stores looked like old-time Japan, and the atmosphere was sort of smoky/hazy and smelled of wood smoke and food cooking. Young Japanese boys wore A-Frame type advertising boards and paraded in front of their establishment. They tried to urge you into their place, and you were fair game as long as you were within the limits of their storefront. I went into one of the restaurants and one waitress, who spoke English pretty well, offered to serve me a unique old Japanese dish. Shortly she brought out a small plate of something wrapped in aluminum foil.
Unwrapping the foil, I discovered a baked sweet potato. One of those huge ones from Okinawa.
Bob Wright
Unwrapping the foil, I discovered a baked sweet potato. One of those huge ones from Okinawa.
Bob Wright
