Finding Sanctuary in the Japanese Peace Garden

Finding Fredericksburg’s Japanese Sanctuary

By Sallie Lewis

保 護 区 域

(Sanctuary)

This summer, on a sunny morning in Fredericksburg, I walked east on Austin Street toward The National Museum of the Pacific War. Sunlight sifted through the trees as I passed The George H.W. Bush Gallery and The Plaza of Presidents on route to the Japanese Garden of Peace.

Over the years, I’ve visited this museum on many occasions, though somehow its garden eluded me. My discovery ensued on a recent tour of the museum campus with General Michael Hagee, CEO of the Admiral Nimitz Foundation. As we passed the landscape of pruned evergreens and white stones raked into sea swells, I felt my curiosity pique.

My tour with General Hagee led to a phone call with Joy Rendon, the blue-eyed, pixie-haired Fredericksburg native who has been maintaining the garden for fifteen years.

“I’ve always had a love of being outside,” she said as we arranged a time to meet. When she was a young girl, Rendon watched her father in his garden and enjoyed planting their flower beds into interesting patterns. Today, that early enjoyment has grown into a venerable vocation at the Japanese Garden of Peace.

“This is her baby,” said Museum Director Karen Stevenson. “Her care and touch are in everything.” Maintaining the grounds is a full-time operation and one that Joy doesn’t take lightly. There is always work to be done, from sweeping and cleaning to weeding and raking, pruning and shearing, not to mention caring for the koi fish and maintaining the ground’s water features.

Japanese gardening is a language unto its own and Rendon is constantly learning. “There is such a different aspect to it than other types of gardening,” she told me. “There is so much more detail and things have to be balanced; everything has to harmonize with each other.”

Today, Rendon is involved with the North American Japanese Gardening Association (NAJGA) and partakes in workshops and lectures in addition to attending conferences around the United States. She also works with a Texas-based Japanese garden consultant named John Powell who was the first Westerner invited to train with the garden staff at the prestigious Adachi Museum, Japan’s top ranked garden. Rendon’s dedication to the job and steady stewardship of the land is moving, just like the story of how the garden came to be. > PG. 26 Joy Rendon has taken care of the National Museum of the Pacific War’s Japanese Peace Garden grounds for the past 15 years.

FROM PG. 24 The National Museum of the Pacific War was originally named the Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz Memorial Naval Museum after the hometown hero who commanded the Pacific War Fleet during WWII and signed the Japanese Instrument of Surrender on behalf of the United States on the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. The garden on campus

memorializes the friendship between Admiral Nimitz and the great Japanese Admiral Heihachiro Togo, whom Nimitz admired and respected throughout his career.

Admiral Togo served in the Imperial Japanese Navy as the Commander in Chief of Japan’s Combined Fleet. He was a hero himself, thanks to his leadership in the Russo-Japanese War, which lasted from 1904 to 1905. Nimitz and Togo first met one another at a garden party in Japan. Though this would be their only face-to-face meeting, Nimitz became a disciple of the late Admiral, marching in his funeral procession and working to uphold his legacy by spearheading the restoration of his flagship vessel, the Mikasa, after it was damaged by the Allied forces post-WWII.

Following Nimitz’s death in 1966, the Japanese people wished to create a memorial in his honor while paying tribute to the admirals’ friendship. They decided on a small peace garden at the museum in Nimitz’s birthplace, raising funds for the project and commissioning Tokyo garden designer Taketora Saita for the job.

The result was a blend of two garden styles. First, Saita envisioned a traditional Japanese garden with a koi-filled pond, a waterfall and trees, along with a replica of Admiral Togo’s study. The concept was based on Ishin-no-Ike or “Pond of One-heart” found in the garden of the official residence used by Admiral Togo in Maizuru City. Japanese craftsmen came to Texas to erect the study on site, notably using no nails as a testament to their fine woodworking prowess.

The second component of the design was a large dry garden resembling the Pacific Ocean. Stones were raked into waves and scattered with Pacific “islands” constructed with low evergreens and large rocks

sourced from the fields north of Fredericksburg. A stream of water runs around this space, representing life as a drop of rainwater that flows from stream to river before finding the ocean.

The Japanese Garden of Peace was dedicated on the 130th anniversary of Fredericksburg’s founding in 1976, which was also the American Bicentennial Year. The Fredericksburg High School Band performed The Star Spangled Banner and The Japanese National Anthem, while both flags bearing the rising sun and the stars and stripes were displayed.

Today, as the garden celebrates its 45th anniversary, the space remains a living tribute to two great military leaders and the enduring friendship between the Japanese and American people.

For Rendon, working here has been both meditative and healing. “Usually in the mornings I am able to be out here by myself and gather my thoughts,” she said. “It helps me slow down and think about my life and how important gardening has been to me. It’s an honor and a privilege to be part of this – I’m very blessed.”

As we walked through the landscape, she identified various plantings, like a purple-flowered Crape Myrtle, Louisiana Iris, and Bonsai-Shaped Japanese Pines. At the entrance, she pointed out a long bamboo pipe slowly dripping water. The visual, she shared, is an invitation to slow down and cleanse the mind and body, leaving any ill thoughts behind before entering the sanctuary.

A night-time tea ceremony in the Admiral Togo study on the Peace Garden grounds.

National Museum of the Pacific War

As we walked to the pool in front of Togo’s study, I saw giant tangerine koi fish swimming in the water, which I learned are representative of longevity in Japanese culture. I also learned that Pine trees, along with Maples, are some of the most important trees in Japanese gardens, and they can be shaped into visuals like cloud whirls, for example. “The way things are pruned is probably my favorite thing about the garden,” said Rendon. “It’s taken me several years to really nail that down.”

Behind a wall of bamboo lies a shed revealing Rendon’s wide range of Japanese gardening tools, like pruners, shearers, brooms, and rakes. Power tools are noticeably absent as is anything noiseinducing that would disrupt the peaceful atmosphere.

As the sun arced west and I prepared to leave, I sat briefly on a bench and stared into the stone garden. The more I looked at the undulating lines, the more I felt I was floating at sea. I closed my eyes and heard the sounds of running water, the stalks of bamboo rustling in the breeze, and sycamores from a neighboring courtyard singing in the summer wind. I meditated on this museum and the price of war paid with human life, feeling grateful for our freedom and the sacrifices made. When I opened my eyes again, the landscape revealed itself anew. Here, in this Japanese Garden of Peace, hope is living and breathing, reminding all who visit of our shared humanity, our ability to overcome the past, and the prayers for peace that will sustain us in the future. 平和

(Peace)

エンド

Sallie Lewis is a Fredericksburg-based writer who also pens pieces for regional, state and national publications.