The Temple of Dendur is part of the action in Chapter 1 of Food Truck Killer. It currently resides in NYC’s Metropolitan Museum, but its origin dates back to 23 BCE, having been commissioned by Emperor Augustus and erected in Nubia.
As early as 10 BCE, the Temple inspired visitors to carve graffiti into its sandstone blocks. David Keaton points out the graffiti to his next victim, Kim, while acting as her docent on a museum tour.
On a recent visit, I was inspired to take a photo of one of the thoughtless carvings on this lovely monument.
For more information, here is a link to the Wiki article on the Temple’s history:
The Kuehns open the action in Into the Sun and reappear at the attack on December 7th, 1941. Their villainy is captured and recently published by a descedant who learned the truth about her family history.
The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941 now feels like ancient history. Only a few men who were there on December 7thare still alive. One man who was there and likely celebrated the attack, Takeo Yoshikawa, is a central character in my book Into the Sun.
Yoshikawa was a graduate of the Imperial Japanese Naval Academy and an ensign in the Imperial Japanese Navy (“IJN”). He had a health condition that prevented him from serving at sea, but he impressed his senior officers enough to be transferred to Naval Intelligence. Yoshikawa developed a reputation as a keen analyst with a knack for espionage.
Much ink has been spilled on Japan’s architect of the attack, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, who also figures in the early part of the novel. Less is commonly known about Yoshikawa, without whom it can be argued that the attack might have failed. The Japanese war planners knew that they had to deliver a knockout blow to the United States early in any conflict. And that meant focusing on our naval power. Yoshikawa arrived on Pearl Harbor in March of ’41, under the disguise of vice-counsel at the Japanese Consulate in Honolulu. His mission was to gather intelligence on the U.S. Pacific Fleet based at Pearl Harbor. Here he is interviewed after the war by Walter Cronkite.
Yoshikawa was skilled at his job and often disguised himself as a tourist, sometimes accompanied by local geisha girls, to observe the movements of the fleet. He documented his observations, including details of the harbor, the locations of the Navy’s capital ships, and military airfields, in coded diplomatic messages sent back to Tokyo. The success of Japan’s surprise attack on Pearl Harbor attests to the quality of intelligence Yoshikawa collected.
After the attack, Yoshikawa escaped back to Japan, his role still unknown, using diplomatic cover. But this is where the story takes an odd turn.
After the war ended, Yoshikawa struggled to readjust to civilian life. He attempted to open a candy store, but it failed because his wartime contributions became widely known. Instead of being praised by his neighbors, he was shunned and blamed for what Japan endured during and after the war. He published his memoirs in 1963 and died in 1993, largely forgotten.
I love Frank Lloyd Wright’s architectural style and have visited many of his projects.
Unfortunately, seeing his version of the Imperial Hotel in its Tokyo setting is impossible, as a newer version was built in the 1960s, replacing it 48 years after construction began. While Wright may have anticipated the devastating earthquake that occurred in 1923 (and had designed the structure accordingly), he couldn’t have imagined the catastrophic horror that was visited upon the city in 1945.
Still, his work survived it all.
So, in conceiving Into the Sun, I knew that I just had to integrate the hotel into the story. But, where to begin? I had stayed at the successor hotel several times, but it had no resemblance to its former self, and I was without reference points.
Fortunately, while surfing the web, I stumbled upon this website, which offers a virtual tour.
The hotel’s sheer grandeur must have been stunning. The video showcases many of the striking features of Wright’s design for the hotel, including its Mayan Revival architecture and Mayan motifs carved into the native quarried oya stone. There was simply nothing like it in Japan, and it quickly became a popular destination for Western visitors.
Sadly, the Imperial hotel fell into disrepair, and the decision was made to demolish the building in 1967. During my research, I was both stunned and elated to discover that the Japanese had disassembled the hotel’s entrance hall and lobby and relocated them to the Museum Meiji-Mura in Nagoya, which is dedicated to Meiji-era architecture. You can see it here:
