In 1986, Henry Lee walks past an old Seattle landmark, the Panama Hotel, which stood as a gateway between Seattle’s Chinatown and Nihonmachi (Japantown) in the 1940s. Henry recalls visiting the hotel twice—once in 1942, when he was 12 years old, and today, 44 years later. In between he was married, had a son, and cared for his wife Ethel during her seven-year battle with cancer.

Ruminating on Ethel’s death, Henry considers the differences he has with his son. While Henry struggles to talk of his past and of his feelings, Marty attended group grief therapy, spilling his feelings easily to strangers. Henry has taken early retirement from a career at Boeing and now finds himself alone with too much time on his hands.

A crowd has gathered at the Panama Hotel, which has been boarded up since 1950. As Henry watches, items are brought from the hotel, including a Japanese parasol and a steamer trunk. The new owner explains to a camera crew that she has discovered the belongings of 37 Japanese American families from the war years. Henry, watching in the crowd, wonders if his heart can be found there.