In the spirit of  "working for the industry"

“Bicycle”

by kiyoshi iwasaki
(Former founder and president of Real Chemical Co.,Ltd.)

 

In March 1945, I married my wife, Satoko, when she was 23 years old and I was 29. Our new house was located on the top of the mountain at 5-chome Akabane-Inatsuke. At that time people had to wait in line to buy cigarettes, so I used to wait to get a pack of Peace cigarettes before commuting to work at the pharmaceutical company in Nihonbashi. One month later, I found 30 packages of cigarettes in my chest of drawers. I asked my wife about those cigarettes and she said, “I bought them from the cigarette store where you always wait in line.” I was so happy because I realized that I didn’t have to wait in line any more for at least for one month, so I said to her, “Thank you.” And she said, “You don’t need to thank me until you go there and pay.” I was speechless to realize that I had married such a great person.

And after the war, we struggled to keep pace with the rise in our living expenses of more than 400 yen a month due to inflation. Encouraged by my father-in-law, I decided to create permanent solutions. After applying to the metropolitan government for a cosmetic manufacturing license, I was granted permission with the compnay registration No. 21 dated December 15, 1945.

Since there were no carriage companies back then, I had to go myself and get the aqua ammonia which I used as the main material. Using a broken-down bicycle that might have been found among the ruins, which was connected to a two-wheeled cart that I borrowed from a nearby vegetable store, I loaded the cart with several 180 liter bottles and traveled from Akabane to Yako in Kawasaki where the Nakata Chemical factory was located. Before I left, I tied my lunch box and a water-filled beer bottle to the cart. I left at seven in the morning, arrived there at eleven, ate my lunch and refilled the bottle with water, and left the factory at one in the afternoon. At Rokugo Bridge, there was an economic police checkpoint, but I was allowed to pass the area with a pass issued by the Ministry of Health and Welfare.

On the way to Oi, since there were only burned fields at Urata and Omori, I had to pull the cart instead of riding the bike when there was a very strong wind from the north. I took the route through Fudanotsuji and Kyujyo-mae, and passed Ogawacho to arrive at the foot of the slope leading up the Nicholai-do or the Holy Resurrection Cathedral in Tokyo in the evening. I was drenched in sweat because of pulling my cart up the slope and then descended down to Komagoe through Hongo. At Shimofuri Bridge, I walked up the Asukayama Mountain, passed Jujo, and climbed down the Shimizuzaka slope in Akabane. At the foot of the mountain in Inatsuke, my wife was waiting for me to push me from behind. It was about seven in the evening when we finally made it home. If I missed this once-a-week event, I ran out of material.

I loaded my bicycle with our products and delivered them to our regular salon customers in Tokyo and the surrounding prefectures. When the current managing director was a child, I used to tie a pillow to the bicycle stem to allow him to sit on it so we could all go to see our regular customers. I also used to fling myself off the bike whenever I saw a woman with beautiful hair and asked her where she had her hair permed.

When I left the pharmaceutical company where I had been working for many years on good terms, I received my retirement payment of 2,300 yen. One day, I went home and found a used bicycle in moderately good condition. I couldn’t hide my delight after seeing the sight of the bike and asked my wife about it. She said, “I bought it.” So I asked her how much she had spent on the bike. “I paid 2,300 yen.” I felt sorry for myself because my past and younger days were equal to one used bicycle in value. With the second bicycle, I continued working hard.

In 1949, we moved to Ozuka. I was involved in research which continued throughout the night until I heard the rooster start to crow in the morning.

Since I started riding a motorbike, I put away my no longer used bike and hung it from the ceiling of my manufacturing workshop (which I myself had built without any professional help). One day, it was gone. So I asked my wife about it. She said, “I took it to a junkyard because it was taking up too much space.” I was going to keep the handles of the bicycle as a lucky charm to be kept in a shrine or somewhere when I had my own wonderful factory one day. I was so disappointed.

Before building the current factory, my wife and I visited several prefectures including Tochigi, Gunma, Ibaragi, and Saitama, for more than 10 years to find the best place to build it. Sometimes, we talked about our future factory while eating lunch that we bought from a local agriculture cooperative store. In our new Kawagoe factory, I don’t have a shrine or my lucky bicycle handles. Even my wife has gone to heaven. But I believe the spirit of working for the industry exists continuously among many members in our company.

From the June 1993 issue of the monthly magazine, “Biyokai” by JOSEI MODE Co., Ltd.