James Tsukuda reaches for a ripe persimmon at the orchard by the Tsukuda Fruit Stand in San José on Wednesday, Dec. 11, 2024. The farm stand is offering up its last haul of persimmons to customers old and new in the last week of business before the land they farm is developed with apartments and townhomes. (David M. Barreda/KQED)
At this point in the season, James Tsukuda begins his days in the persimmon grove, harvesting the bounty of bright orange-red fruits, dangling like ornaments from dozens of trees that have already shed their leaves.
He climbs a thin, wooden orchard ladder to reach for the Fuyu persimmons among the branches. The ladder is “older than me,” he said.
That’s no surprise. A lot of the tools and equipment on this land are old because it’s been continuously farmed by Japanese American families for nearly 120 years, persisting through world wars, racist land laws and forced incarcerations.
The crisp fall mornings at the Tsukuda Fruit Stand in North San José start slowly and mostly quietly, save for the trucks rumbling by along nearby Montague Expressway.
But the farm itself will soon be paved over.
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This persimmon harvest, coming to a close in just about a week, marks what will likely be the last farm work to ever take place on this land, as a developer plans to build nearly 1,500 apartments and townhomes here, along with a public park.
Another Japanese American family with a rich farming history in the South Bay, the Sakauyes, has decided to sell the 22-acre plot their family has owned since 1907, and on which the Tsukudas have operated their stand for the last four decades.
Hanover Company, the Houston-based developer, expects to begin work in February.
Saying goodbye to more than a farm
“Now that we’re finally at the end, it’s kind of sad,” James Tsukuda said while standing at the base of a persimmon tree last week. “A lot of our long-time customers are heartbroken,” he said. “They’re still hoping for a chance that the sale won’t go through. It’s been tough for a lot of them.”
Over the past several weeks, customers, new and old, have been stopping by to buy the daily haul of persimmons piled high in white crates at the stand.
Several people purchased more than 20 pounds, a testament to the quality and their desire to hold onto a little bit more of what they’ll soon no longer have.
Wenyu Li, an engineer who lives in Milpitas and used to live in North San José, has been frequenting the stand for nearly 20 years and came by on a recent Wednesday.
“I wish we could’ve done something to save it,” Li said. “It always held a special place in my heart. It’s really sad to know they will be gone.”
Other customers lamented the trope of bucolic settings being continually swapped out for blocks of housing, warehouses and office parks.
“Silicon Valley is like a concrete jungle. And finding a farm in the middle of it, finding nice produce in the middle of it, is very comforting,” said Heral Lakhani, of Fremont.
Many customers said they buy their fruits and veggies at the stand because of the quality of the produce, the affordable prices and, most importantly, for the friendly relationships they form with the Tsukuda family.
The Tsukuda Family
James Tsukuda’s mother, Miyo Tsukuda, has long been one of the smiling faces customers see at the stand.
In recent weeks, she has started asking customers to take photos with her that she prints out and puts in a scrapbook to help her remember everyone.
“My face is starting to get a lot of wrinkles,” she said with a laugh while reviewing some of the photos last week. “I said, ‘My goodness, when did I get old?’”
She was born in a concentration camp in Arkansas, where her family was sent during World War II. They were among the thousands of Japanese Americans who were incarcerated during the war and lost possessions and property, such as homes and farmland. Her late husband, Eiji Tsukuda, originally farmed a plot of land nearby, growing strawberries and raspberries until a forced eminent domain sale to make way for the Orchard School District pushed them off the land.
That’s when the family started leasing farmland from the Sakauyes. After he fell ill with cancer, Eiji Tsukuda handed off the farming duties at the current stand to James about 20 years ago.
Miyo Tsukuda said the “most enjoyable” thing for her has been talking with all the customers, and she’ll miss coming to the stand.
“You get up in the morning, every morning, you tell yourself, ‘I have to get ready to go to work.’ I’m not going to have that anymore,” she said. “In a way, maybe it’s a good time to retire. But I’ll miss this place.”
James Tsukuda said while his mom may have been looking forward to retiring just a few years ago, now that the fruit stand is being forced to shut down, she’s reluctant to let go.
“It’s been such a big part of her life for such a long time,” he said. “She’s made a lot of friends here. And so have I.”
James Tsukuda said he’ll probably take his own tools with him when he leaves the farm for the last time but isn’t interested in any other keepsakes.
“I don’t know about taking anything to remember the place by. That might actually be depressing,” he said.
Next steps for development
In preparation for the development, most everything left on the land will be leveled, including rows of crops, planters, historic barns, buildings and pump houses. However, preservationists have managed to work out a plan with the developer to preserve one house to serve as a link to the past.
The home that once belonged to Eiichi Sakauye — a prominent farmer and civic figure in Santa Clara County for decades — will eventually be relocated 10 miles south to History Park, where it will be restored and used as a showcase to tell his story and the story of Japanese American histories in the South Bay.
Bill Schroh Jr., the head of History San Jose, which operates History Park, said the plan is estimated to cost $1 million, and about $800,000 in donations has been pledged so far from a handful of donors.
A coalition of organizations and individuals, including the Japanese American Museum of San Jose, the Preservation Action Council of San Jose, Hanover Company, Vice Mayor Rosemary Kamei, Councilmember David Cohen, members of the Sakauye family and History San Jose, collaborated to ensure the house won’t be flattened.
While Kamei and others pushed during an August council meeting to see the home restored on the site where it currently sits, that didn’t pan out, in part due to the city’s parks department not having enough funding to sustain it there. The developer and Eiichi Sakauye’s daughters also didn’t support preserving the home on the land but were willing to back a plan to have it relocated.
Those involved in the plan to save the home say that even though it will be relocated, its preservation is a big win.
“What we were looking at even a few months ago was this possibility that the entire site would be leveled, the house would be demolished, and nobody would speak up against it,” said Ben Leech, the president of the Preservation Action Council. “So the fact now that the house looks like it’s being saved and moved to History Park, it’s a sea change.”
Vanessa Hatakeyama, the director of the Japanese American Museum, said the partnerships and work that went into the plan have yielded more than just the preservation of a historic house.
“It’s really helped strengthen the fabric of San Jose’s historic preservation community. And so that’s something that we’re incredibly proud of,” she said.
Hanover plans to temporarily relocate the home onto another portion of the Sakauye farm to allow construction work to begin, and the home could be moved to History Park by the summer of next year, Hatakeyama said.
Okkes Gozdas, a resident of the area near the farm, said he comes to the stand almost every day during the summer for fresh produce, and frequents during the fall for persimmons, as well.
He said he’s happy Eiichi Sakauye’s home will be preserved but feels the community is suffering a big loss with farming on the land coming to an end.
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“This is the place. When you come here, you feel different,” Gozdas said. “The sad part is the new generations cannot experience coming here.”
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