A RAY FOR HOPE (PART II: IN SEARCH FOR YUKI)

In search of Yuki: Part 2

I have no idea why I didn’t think of this years ago. After I shared my initial post about Yuki, it dawned upon me that maybe the AFS office in  New York might have some suggestions for me in my search for Yuki.  

To make a long story short, I connected with David Blythe at AFS International, gave him the last address I had for Yuki in Japan and all the additional info I have from Yuki’s stay in Marietta: her AFS host mother’s name, etc. David spoke with a colleague in Japan, and that person was able to locate Yuki’s file from back in 1983 and called her house in Susaki City! The colleague spoke with Yuki’s stepmother (a woman who was never nice to Yuki), and as you read below, it was difficult to understand her; however, from the brief conversation, we now know Yuki’s father is still alive and David’s colleague in Japan will communicate with him and get back to David. 

(David’s on vacation until mid-August, so I’ll wait for him to let me know IF Yuki’s dad can / will provide additional info about Yuki’s plight.)

I hold a little hope.  (See below….)

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Dear David,

Thank you so much for providing me with additional information so promptly.

Now that I know her name is Fuki Sento, I could find her name and phone number  on GL.

I called her only to find that the phone number is no longer used.

Fuki did not register her address.

I have a very old roster for Japanese returnees up to 1998 at home.

As this roster had the address and phone number of her family when she participated in the AFS Program,  I called her family.

An old lady who introduced as Fuki's step mother answered my phone.

The step mother told me that she has been out of contact with Fuki for more than a decade, so she does not know Fuki's contact address.

The step mother spoke a very strong dialect which I could not understand well.

What she told me seemed very complicated, so I need to check with someone else such as Fuki's father or siblings. 

So I will try to call again some time later when Fuki's father is at home and get back to you by the time you will return to New York after your summer vacation.

I appreciate Ms. Tanya Wilder's patience.

IN SEARCH OF YUKI….

During the 1983-84 school year, Marietta High Hosted an American Field Service student from Japan, Yuki Sento. Yuki’s real name was Fuki, but for obvious reasons, we knew her as Yuki. Yuki was exceptionally bright, graduating at the top of her class in 1984 (though she was not recognized since she had not completed a 4-yr. program at MHS). 

Yuki came from a very humble and traditional Japanese family, and the year in the States was an opportunity of a lifetime for her. She sang in chorus, ran cross country, swam on the swim team, and learned as much as she could about life here. Knowing very little English and NO Spanish, Yuki excelled in my my Spanish class and completed three years of study in one year and came close to bi-lingual proficiency in that time. In 40+ years of teaching, I never had a more gifted language learner.

Upon return to Japan, Yuki was selected to study in the elite Japanese Institute of Foreign Languages and finished with degrees in Spanish and English. She went on to teach, bring students to the US, and return to visit my family twice thereafter.  My parents and children welcomed her into our family wholeheartedly.  Over the years, we remained in close contact, and I looked forward to hearing about her latest translation efforts and news.

Unfortunately, prior her AFS year here and after return to Japan, Yuki’s life was not easy. She never told me much about her family, except that her mother had died when Yuki was very young. Her grandmother lived with the family to care for Yuki and her sister, and both her father and grandfather faulted her for her mother’s death and subsequently, favored the older sister, leaving Yuki to do house and garden work. I sensed her father was brutal to Yuki, and I’m still not sure how it was that she came across AFS and was permitted to participate in a year abroad.

As time passed, news from Yuki became really sad. She left one or two teaching positions and was at a loss as to what to do. She listened to English radio stations and did some translating on the side to keep her skills sharp. Her letters began to indicate that her mental health was in sharp decline, telling me she had fallen in love with her therapist and insisting they communicated telepathically. She said she had named her only possessions after people she remembered and loved. For example, she named her purse “Tanya” and spoke of it as if it were her child. 

Finally, about two years ago, I received my final letter from her. She said she was “going away”and I would never hear from her again. Wrapped very carefully in the letter, she included her tassel from her “84” MHS graduation and asked me to always remember her. 

I have no idea what happened to Yuki.  I’ve asked myself over and over if she was admitted to a psychiatric hospital or even if she took her own life. The last picture she sent to me remains on my refrigerator alongside photos of Samuel and Eliza. Her tassel hangs on the lamp by the chair where I sit and knit. Frequently, I open a random book I pick up and am surprised to find a letter she wrote and that I used as a bookmark. 

What motivates me to write this lengthy post is Yuki’s presence in my dreams for the last two nights. I need not post the details of them, but I hear her voice calling. So, I’m once again inspired to see if I can find out anything about her - if she is, indeed, alive.

I know I’m searching for a “needle in the haystack.” The most assistance I’ve been able to receive came from the Japanese consulate in Detroit, where a kind man listened to my story and has offered to send me the website and / or phone number of the police department in Susacki City, Yuki’s last place of residence (that I know of). 

Along with everyone else with whom I’ve shared this story, the gentleman in Detroit reminded me that the Japanese strictly adhere to privacy on all accounts, especially if the matters would include a transfer to a mental health facility or a suicide. He kindly cautioned me not to anticipate answers though he hoped I could learn something about Yuki.

If anyone who reads this has advice or knows of an avenue I can pursue to learn more about what has happened to Yuki, please send me a message. I’ll keep trying, but so far, I hold little hope of finding Yuki. 

I just want to know what happened to this truly sweet, innocent, amazingly gifted woman, and I’m not one to give up until I exhaust all available measures. I fear I’m close to that point now, sadly.

I KNOW WHAT I SAW, AND I SAW A…..

COUGAR!!

Yep…..a cougar in the back field. No, it wasn’t a bobcat.  It wasn’t a gigantic feral kitty cat. The animal I saw was a cougar, regardless of naturalists’ consensus that cougars don’t inhabit Ohio (especially southeastern OH) anymore.

Here’s the lowdown:

On Wednesday, June 2, 2021, the corgis and I took a long afternoon walk around the back field to look at birds. As we entered the bottom side of the field, I could see a pair of red-tailed hawks perched in a tree across the fence in the neighbor’s field. I watched the regal pair as they surveyed their surroundings for an easy catch. I had my binoculars on them until we reached the turn in the back of the field that leads into the woods. Mac and MerryBelle were about 15 feet ahead of me, sniffing in her grass for scat piles to roll in and waiting for me to give them the OK to go back into the woods.

As I lowered my binocs, I caught movement in the corner of my eye coming out of the overgrown brush along the fence line, and out jumped a big cat. It was obviously surprised to see me, and I was definitely surprised to see it.  The moment was one in which time stood still: I remember telling myself to take close mental notes, for I was face to face with an animal I had never seen in the wild.

Now, I’ve seen bobcats in captivity and in the wild around the farm. This was not a bobcat - too big, no markings of a bobcat, not a bobcat facial structure. This cat was large, much larger than a bobcat. It had very, very faint spots on its face, as if it were a juvenile.

In a split second - maybe a total of 5 seconds- of a face-to-face encounter, the cat turned and jumped back into the brush. When it did, I was able to see the full side of its body - an elongated torso, some very, very dim spots - however, the telling feature that remains crystal clear in my mind was the long tail with a dark tip. 

I couldn’t get to my phone in my pocket to get a photo….time moved too quickly. From many times in the woods with Zeb, I distinctly remember hearing his voice in my mind, telling me “to watch, watch carefully…tell yourself over what you saw…tell yourself over and over again while your memory’s fresh…”

Mac and MerryBelle had their backs to the cougar when it jumped from the brush.  In retrospect, I can see that it could easily have thought Mac was tasty prey since he’s white from behind and stands close to the ground, similar at a distance to a rabbit. It pounced from the brush, stopping abruptly when it saw me. One more pounce, and Mac could have been fighting off one whopper of a cat. My only weapon would have been my binoculars! The corgis missed the encounter completely since they were searching for some stinky stuff to roll in.

This is the exact animal I saw….maybe just a tad smaller and likely, younger. (Internet image)

But there’s more!

Once I got my breath after the cat bolted back in the brush, the corgis and I turned the corner and started (rather expeditiously) up the fence line path home. We hadn’t gone 5 yards when I noticed a pile of fresh, steaming scat in the middle of the path. Whatever had left his couple of elongated turds had done its business recently, that was for sure. I photographed it and hightailed home, corgis panting behind me.

Two people with great knowledge of the animal world have suggested these turds look like coyote scat. I’ve done a lot of reading about cougar scat, and the overriding consensus is that cougar poop greatly resembles coyote scat in many ways, but with a more definitive “pinched” beginning and/or end.  I am inclined to think the cougar had taken a very recent dump, jumped back in the brush, realized something was approaching, crouched and pounced when it saw the dogs.

Fast forward to getting back to the house: I immediately messaged Julie Zickefoose and told her what had happened. She didn’t discount what I recounted, thank goodness. Her immediate response was to go “collect the shit!”

With two gallon zip-loc bags and my trusty trowel, I took off to the back field again. As I was scooping the “prize” into my bag, I could hear a low, threatening growl from the brush at the entrance to the woods. I’ve heard that angry, warning of “GET AWAY” sort of growl many a time from the cats here at the farm…..definitely feline, definitely a “mind your own business,” “don’t cross the line” sort of sound. So, again, I skedaddled back up to house and stuck the double-bagged elongated turds in the freezer.

(At the risk of turning off those reading,I will confess that many strange items have been stored in our freezer over the years- birds that have flown into the window, cats that have died in the middle of winter, a large coot that Molly, one of our first corgis, brought home, a large hawk I picked up on the roadside. My dad and Uncle Frank would have been proud that I took the time to observe and study. My mom would not have permitted such a sample in her freezer. )

Julie contacted a friend of hers who is a scat specialist, I believe, to see if she would be interested in analyzing the scat. We’ve yet to hear from her. I also contacted Jim McCormac, a respected naturalist in. Columbus who concurred with others said about the unlikelihood of a cougar in the wild in my area. He suggested it was possibly an escapee from some “nutcase” (my description) who kept wild animals. Maybe he’s correct since there aren’t confirmed cases of cougar sightings in SE Ohio recorded.

I don’t know exactly how to proceed, but it occurs to me that perhaps I could contact the naturalist at Grandfather Mountain back home in NC to see if he/she would examine the solidly frozen scat in my freezer to confirm (or not) that the turds are from a cougar. The conservancy there has introduced cougars back in to the wild there and keeps track of their movements.  I would really, really like a confirmation, but if I never get it, it won’t matter because…..

I know what I saw on that evening walk around the back field, and I saw a COUGAR !