Jim Mar has a distinct take on things. He is a pragmatist, and at almost 91 he has perspective that only time can bring.
Then there is his world view. During World War II, he served in North Africa and Europe, so he has seen other lands. But Seattle's Chinatown is the realm he knows best.
Jim was born on July 11, 1914 in Seattle, in Providence Hospital. He is the fourth of eight children born to Mar Fook Hing and Lee Shee. Both his parents were born outside Canton, China, and immigrated to America separately in 1906. They met after they arrived in the west.
Once here, his father re-named himself Henry, but his mother kept her Chinese name. When Jim was born he was given the occidental name James, as well as the traditional name Mar Gim Toon.
As did all his siblings (and, eventually, his children), Jim attended Garfield High School. He lettered in basketball and baseball, and graduated in 1933.
His father Henry was an import/export merchant. Over the years Henry branched out into many aspects of that business, providing a livelihood for all his sons as they entered adulthood.
Henry founded the first Chinese-run grocery store, steamship travel agency, barbershop, taxicab company, and express baggage company in Seattle. One by one, his sons took over each of the businesses.
"I couldn't believe my father's ingenuity," says Jim. "He didn't want us to bother each other, and he made sure we didn't."
Jim got the grocery store, Fick Yung Company, located on South King Street Opened by his father in 1910, it is primarily a wholesale company which services Chinese restaurants. It sells canned and dried goods, fresh produce, and cooking supplies.
"Nationwide, all of us importers know each other," says Jim. The United States is divided into clear sections. Yick Fung services Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming.
The modest storefront opens into a rectangular room with a worn wooden floor and a ceiling so high it almost disappears. A black banner hangs high above, emblazoned with two gold Chinese characters signifying the name of the store, which means "good benefits." White globes hang here and there, with long pullstrings dangling within reach.
An old scale sits in an alcove, and a heavy, black adding machine sits next to a jar of Red Vines and bags of Top Ramen, with white, round keys that must be hit hard and a lever that must be pulled after each entry.
Items on the scalloped shelves look like they have been there awhile because they have - most are for display only. Customers decide what they want, then buy in cases.
That's changing, however, as Yick Fung's retail business increases.
In years past the store was also an agent for the Blue Funnel Line, a steamship company that transported 90 to 100 passengers to and from Hong Kong. There were 30cots upstairs where people stayed before they left or after they arrived, and meals were served for 25 cents each.
Jim was the first Chinese-American man in Seattle to be drafted when World War II broke out. In February 1941 he was drafted into the Army's See BAND, page 356th Medical Battalion and stationed at Ft. Lewis.
The day after Pearl Harbor was bombed, he was sent to Ft. Dix, New Jersey, then on to Fidala, Morocco, near Casablanca, where he served as a medical supply staff sergeant. He also served in Corsica, Italy, France and Germany, and was in Berlin at the end of the war. Commissioned while in Palermo, Italy, Jim retired in 1945 as a Lt. Col. in the Army Reserve Corps.
He returned to Seattle where he resumed operating Yick Fung Company and attended college at the Army Reserve School. In 1946 he began working for Butterworth Mortuary on Capitol Hill. Four years ago Butterworth sold some other funeral parlors they owned and moved their headquarters to Queen Anne.
Jim got into that business because he perceived that the special burial needs of Asians, especially Chinese, were not being met in Seattle. This was not due to racism but to the fact that many Chinese did not have family here.
"Back then," says Jim, "many people returned to the old country to die, around age 60." (Of course, the Blue Funnel Line was available to get them there.) But life and death can be unpredictable, and some people didn't make it in time, so they died here, often alone.
Now many Chinese stay here to die, but they're also living longer. Jim says that more people die when the weather changes. "Summer is our slack time," he says.
Chinese funerals are almost always burials, because it is a sign of prestige to be able to afford a burial, rather than a cremation, which is cheaper. In contrast, Japanese funerals are almost always cremations. Jim thinks it's because there is limited space in their old country.
There are many special Chinese funeral traditions. One is that members of the bereaved family must not wear red. Red is the color of good luck, and is inappropriate for the occasion.
Another is that as people leave the funeral, mortuary staff hand out white envelopes (white signifies purity) containing a piece of candy, to rid the mourners' mouths of the bitterness that accompanies death, and a coin to buy another piece of candy to prolong the feeling of sweetness.
Jim is sensitive to these needs, but he will accommodate any family's needs, regardless of race, culture, or religion. Besides the service, he helps the family pick out the casket and plot, and iron out other details. He takes on funerals as they arise, about twice a week.
Personally, "I have no set religion," he says. "In my business you have to be neutral." To maintain good public relations, he donates money to a variety of churches and organizations. "I play ball with all of them," he says. This stance has served him well. He has been funeral director at Butterworth for 59 years.
At a basketball tournament in 1948, Jim met Ida Lee (Jim played in a national Asian-American basketball league). They married and had four children, three daughters and one son. Upon their marriage, Jim's Chinese name was changed to Mar Tai Yip, as dictated by an ancestor in his father's village.
Tragically, one of Jim and Ida's daughters died at 43 of breast cancer, leaving her two children. Jim and Ida have six high school- and college-age grandchildren. Ida teaches ESL at South Seattle Community College, and has done so for 38 years.
In 1967, Jim and Ida built a house in Seward Park and have lived there ever since. Three stories tall with six bedrooms and a view, it's on a dead-end street near Lake Washington, just above the Stan Sayres Hydroplane Pit.
"Seward Park is a nice neighborhood," says Jim. "It's quiet, the people are friendly and watch out for each other, and it's racially diverse."
Now all but one of the bedrooms are empty, but Jim and Ida's children still throw parties there. "It seems like the kids have never gone," says Jim. They also own a home in Hoodsport, right on the shores of Hood Canal. Jim and Ida spend holidays there, and their children go there often.
Both busy and active (Jim's secret to long life), Jim and Ida have no hobbies, unless you count the water aerobics class they take together twice a week.
"There's really nothing bad about getting old," says Jim. He says he's slowed down a bit, but you can't tell by the way he walks, briskly and with purpose.
Jim has a long civic résumé. To cite just a few of his accomplishments, he is past president of many organizations: the Chinatown Chamber of Commerce, the Jackson Street Community Council, the American Legion Veterans Association's Cathay Post #186 and the Mar Society.
The Mar Society is a family association with about 240 active members. Jim likens it to a social security association for people with the family name Mar (which means "horse"). The society helps immigrants named Mar handle all the logistics of arriving in a new country, helping them find a place to live, a job, how to read a bus schedule, etc.
Other extended Chinese families, like Chins or Wongs, have their own societies.
Jim is worried about the future of family associations. "Our memberships are depleting because young people do not join," he laments. "They only come to our dinners," he adds ruefully.
For that matter, all of Chinatown is changing. "I used to know everyone," says Jim, "but now I don't. All the people used to be Chinese, except for the Japanese on Main Street, but now there are many different kinds of Asians." The area is called the International District now.
But it is far better than his father's village outside Canton, Know Yin Mee, which Jim has visited several times. "Life was just awful there," he says. "There was no electricity or plumbing, and poor sanitation. Mosquitoes were everywhere. People gathered twigs for firewood - wood was like gold."
On his most recent visit eight years ago, conditions in the village had improved with the installation of utilities. On that visit he gave away three family homes by picking names out of a basket.
Juggling two occupations, helping people in life and death, keeping traditions alive through change. No small feat for a person of any age. But Jim does them all, in his purposeful stride.
Teru Lundsten may be reached at editor@sdistrictjournal.com.[[In-content Ad]]
