American Concentration Camps

The day after Pearl Harbor, an angry FDR called it ‘a date which will live in infamy’, and he began to restrict the rights of Japanese Americans. First there was a curfew, then bank accounts were seized overnight, businesses shuttered, homes were searched, guns were collected, cameras and radios were taken, Japanese language schools were closed, and travel was restricted. US citizens of German and Italian descent were free to live their lives, but US citizens of Japanese descent were not. Then, at noon, on 30 March 1942: any person of Japanese descent found on Bainbridge Island—opposite Seattle—would be arrested and charged as a criminal. Families were given short notice, allowed two small bags—or one and a baby—, and were sent to the state fairground at Puyallup—near Tacoma. Barbed wire fences and armed soldiers surrounded the ‘assembly centers’. There, they were lined up by family, with their family number tags tied to their clothes, oldest in front, youngest in back.

San Francisco residents went to Tanforan—now a shopping mall on the peninsula. Los Angeles residents were sent to Santa Anita or Pomona. Some were housed in racetrack horse stalls, which they needed to clean out themselves. California and half of Washington, Oregon and Arizona were declared ‘exclusion zones’ by the military, and no person of Japanese descent was allowed to remain there. Instead, they were transported from the assembly centers to one of ten camps. The American woman and her baby above were sent to Manzanar in California and then to Minidoka in Idaho. Others went to Amache in Colorado, Rohwer & Jerome in Arkansas, Topaz in Utah, Heart Mountain in Wyoming, Poston & Gila River in Arizona, and some were sent to the ‘segregation camp’ at Tule Lake in California near Oregon. Some male inmates were ordered to build their own barracks, latrines and other buildings. Women prepared meals for thousands. Guard towers were raised along barbed wire fences with searchlights and machine guns pointed inward. There was no privacy, not among family, not at meals, not in the group latrines and not in the group showers. The camps were in remote, desolate, dusty, unpopulated areas away from towns, many were deserts, some mountains and all were sabishii—lonely and forsaken.

Many Americans, including those incarcerated, were lied to about the program by our government: “temporary”, “for your own safety”, “normal” and “happy”. Even today, the program is referred to as “Japanese Internment Camps”, but the vast majority of those incarcerated were not Japanese, they were US citizens, mainly by birth, many never having been to Japan. Propaganda films lied and stated that “household belongings” were shipped to “pioneer villages”, that only those “within a stone’s throw” of military bases were forced to move, that people were “given jobs and more space in which to live” and “managed their own security”. The program was sold as being exemplarily generous, that the military provided for all needs and that the Japanese Americans “approved whole-heartedly”. Journalists and others were periodically given limited access only to the barracks of the most cooperative inmates.

In fact, there were water shortages, food shortages, food poisoning, unsafe living and working conditions, military brutality, unfair punishments, false charges, and inmates fatally shot, including a dog walker at Topaz, a truck driver at Tule Lake, and two protesters at Manzanar where guards fired into a crowd. Some elderly patients had been taken to the camps from their hospital beds, and over 1,850 died of disease and medical problems, including many infants. Complaints were discouraged or mocked. Pressure campaigns were used to enlist men into active combat in Europe. And always, anyone suspected of being disloyal was encouraged to renounce their citizenship and leave the country. In this system, particularly at Tule Lake, some reacted to their treatment by trying to be more Japanese, organizing protests and yelling Banzai—‘long live the Emperor’—at the guards.

They were Americans, and their Constitutional Rights of speech, to be secure in their homes and to due process were all violated for years. The root of this program was racism. Americans of Japanese descent were assumed to have loyalty to a foreign power, and even when they were natural born American citizens, they couldn’t be trusted and would have to prove their loyalty again and again. The Issei—1st generation—chose this country rather than the one of their birth. The Nissei—second generation—were born here, but some parents sent their children back for schooling Japan to preserve their language and culture. These children were called Kibei—returnees to America—, indicating that their parents wanted them to live here. All were Americans, either by their own choice or by their parents’. Only their fellow citizens refused to see them as truly Americans.

Although I quote Eleanor Roosevelt below, FDR and many other Americans believed in the ‘melting pot’—meaning melting metal to forge steel—, that Americans had a duty to assimilate and that their cultures would be purified into one culture. But the price of citizenship does not include giving up one’s culture, whether your name is Ohara or O’Hara. Imagine something happens in the future, and people of your family background are herded up and sent to Guantanamo. Even though you did nothing wrong, your guilt is suspected based on your family cultural background. Your communications are censored, and you are treated the same as foreigners or prisoners of war. And when you finally are freed, all your property has been taken, and nobody will help.

Visit national park sites for camps like Manzanar, Minidoka, Amache and Tule Lake, and interpretive sites in Seattle like the Klondike visitor center which partners with Bainbridge Island and the Wing Luke Museum. Topaz has a museum in Delta Utah (off I-15 towards Great Basin). Poston (off I-10) has a historic marker placed by internees & the Colorado River Indian Tribes near Parker on the Arizona border with California. Heart Mountain has an interpretive center between Cody and Powell in Wyoming (on the road between Yellowstone and Bighorn Canyon). Gila River is on restricted reservation land near Hohokam Pima—neither are open to the public—but the Huhugam Heritage Center has a small free exhibit, not far from Phoenix. There’s a museum in McGehee Arkansas for Rohwer and a monument for Jerome; both are just south of Arkansas Post. The Hawaiian experience was very different, but Honouliuli will eventually open as a historic site. Please encourage your elected representatives to preserve the history at all the camps.

I encourage you to read more about the experiences of the Americans who were sent to American Concentration Camps during WWII: Farewell to Manzanar, Only What We Could Carry, Journey to Topaz, Snow Falling on Cedars, and They Called Us Enemy, among many others. And take a moment to think about how you would feel, if it happened to your family.

“We have no common race in this country, but we have an ideal to which all of us are loyal:
we cannot progress if we look down upon any group of people amongst us
because of race or religion.
Every citizen in this country has a right to our basic freedoms,
to justice and to equality of opportunity.
We retain the right to lead our individual lives as we please,
but we can only do so if we grant to others the freedoms that we wish for ourselves.”

Eleanor Roosevelt, after visiting Gila River during WWII

Gila River

Despite not being on the West Coast, the US military evicted all American citizens from the southern part of Arizona during WWII as potential ‘navy base saboteurs’, if they had Japanese ancestry. The military’s arbitrary exclusion zone ran through Phoenix, so if you lived on the south side of the city, you wound up incarcerated while your family on the north side kept their homes.

Like Poston, most Japanese-Americans were taken from their homes in Southern California. The barracks in the background of the photo above comprised a small part of camp 2 or Butte Camp at Gila. The Gila River Tribal Community protested, but the military appropriated over 17,000 acres of their land anyway and concentrated roughly 15,000 people here according to their ethnicity. 

The tribal community had been struggling since the Gila River was diverted by white settlers beginning in the 1880s. In 1934, archaeologists dug up their ancestral burial grounds, and after they dug again in 1964, the government also created a national park site. Now that site is closed and the tribes don’t allow visitors there. 

Survivors of internment built a monument on the ‘internment camp’ site, but someone shot it up with a machine gun a few years back, and unless you’re family, you can’t visit the site now. Given all the tragedies and harm done here under the American flag, seems like folks might benefit from a government funded educational center explaining the history and the importance of respecting Constitutional rights. 

The Gila River Tribal Community runs the excellent nearby Huhugam Culture Center free museum, which contains a small display case of ‘relocation center’ artifacts, including two busts of young prisoners. The one pictured is Sayoko ‘Jean’ Kawamura, and the other has no name, forgotten to history. 

Poston

In Arizona, across the Colorado River from California, there’s a desert hamlet called Poston in an area governed by the Colorado River Indian Tribes. Spanish Missionaries visited in 1775 and their King recognized tribal sovereignty. Mexico lost the whole territory after the War, and the US government established reservations to ‘protect’ the Mohave, Chemehuevi and others here. Today, despite some irrigation improvements, much of the population is poor, and each winter many RVers spend months living cheaply in the desert nearby. 

But from 1942 to 1945, the US concentrated as many as 17,000 US citizens of Japanese ancestry forcibly relocated from their homes on the west coast to three camps, known as Roastin’, Toastin’ and Dustin’. The highs are over 105° all summer long. Besides the 50 year memorial (pictured above) to the families, children and highly decorated WWII veterans once incarcerated here, there’s not much left to see, except a few origami cranes left by visitors. 

But there’s much to think about. Constitutional rights and freedoms, so cherished in this country, are an ‘all or nothing’ deal. For you to enjoy a right or freedom, you must recognize that same right belongs to all your fellow citizens, regardless of their background or beliefs. Our legal system depends on the idea that the law applies equally to everyone, that no one man is above the law and that there are no permanent classes of people entitled to extra privileges. If we want to continue to enjoy our own full rights as citizens, we must make sure that no other US citizens are trammeled, as they were here, ever again. 

Rosie the Riveter / World War II Home Front National Historical Park

FDR said, “we can’t afford to indulge in prejudice now”, and with that, the “Rosie” in the lower part of the collage above suddenly was able to qualify for a job that previously hired neither blacks nor women nor LGBTQ+ nor any other minority. Note that she is riveting aircraft grade aluminum while wearing lipstick, nail polish, a large wedding ring and a classic “Rosie” red bandana. Many women were surprised how easy riveting was and didn’t understand why men said they couldn’t do it. By 1944, women were about 1/3 of the workforce, and 10,000 African Americans worked here in Richmond during the war along with all other minorities (except Japanese Americans). Leadership is required to change society’s prejudices and discriminatory practices, and once the door was opened, many women decided to continue working after the war.

The visitor center is next to the Ford Assembly Plant, which is still full of industrial activity. Check in at the gate on Harbor, then drive around back and all the way down to the right. There are ChargePoint stations in the lot, and a good restaurant next to the visitor center. The factory used to make tanks, and across Marina Bay was Shipyard #2 which produced a new ship every 4 days, loaded with tanks and sent off immediately. Walk a bit of the SF Bay Trail along the waterfront to a fine memorial to the Rosies in Marina Bay Park, next to the yachts and fancy condos. Shipyards #1 and #4 were up the channel on the other side, along with the Prefab Yard. And Shipyard #3 still has the SS Red Oak Victory Ship, launched in November 1944, with worthwhile tours. This was the beating heart of America’s “Arsenal of Democracy”, and it was a unified effort of all hands on deck which changed the course of labor and civil rights overnight.

Pipe Spring National Monument

For millennia people had been using this spring to live, grow crops and travel through, but then the Mormons built a fort and walled it off. 80% of the Kaibab Paiute population died off between 1490 and 1860, many from starvation. The Mormons also enslaved the natives, technically 20 years of indentured servitude, after purchasing them from native slavers, a practice the natives learned from the Spanish.

On this trip I saw both the Green River at Dinosaur and the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon explored by John Wesley Powell, who employed Kaibab Paiute guides. Years later when Powell became director of the US Geologic Survey in DC, a Mormon missionary, translator and expedition member named Jacob Hamblin wrote to his old friend about how the Kaibab Paiutes were dying of starvation.

“The foothills that yielded hundreds of acres of sunflowers which produced quantities of rich seed, the grass also that grew so luxuriantly… the seed of which was gathered with little labor, and many other plants that produced food for the natives is all eat out by stock.”

Hamblin to Powell, 1880

Eventually, the US government intervened and gave the Kaibab Paiutes rights to 1/3 of the water, along with 1/3 to the perpetrators who were using the fort as a hideout for ‘plural families’, and 1/3 to the federal government. Like many wrongdoers, the Mormons at the time tried to justify their killing of the natives by saying that some natives had killed two Mormons, that they were bringing civilization to the natives and that they were more productive. I wasn’t interested in the Mormon pioneer fort or the old self-serving justifications, but the historic conflict over marriage rights seemed ironic, given the 2008 Mormon campaign against gay marriage in California. In any case, the native history is fascinating and helps explain why Utah is 1% Native American and over 2/3 Mormon. There’s a garden run by the local tribe that grows the three sisters (corn, beans & squash) along with Amaranth, which was a beautiful deep purple.

Overall, Utah does an exceptionally good job in managing its remarkable natural resources, but the climate crisis allows no time for delays. Today the spring above is full of toxic algal mats that can release deadly Cyanobacteria neurotoxins, which appears to be spreading as the climate warms. Civilization is destroying life on earth, via carbon pollution, so it hardly deserves the name.

Amache National Historic Site

President Biden authorized this new park in March, but it will take time to become fully established. The local community is important in determining whether a park is created, how it will happen and when. In this case, the local Granada High School has been working on preserving the history here for many years and is largely responsible for the reconstruction of the guard tower above.

As with Manzanar and Minidoka, the image of a guard tower evokes the reality of the imprisonment of Japanese-American citizens during WWII. Each of the towers surrounding Amache was manned with a machine gun and a spotlight. But inside the camps, it is often the Japanese cultural touches that strike me, the rock gardens in Manzanar and the silk screen shop here. The silk screen shop was so good, that the incarcerated citizens made posters for the US Navy. Despite their incarceration and wrongful denial of their Constitutional rights, these citizens were proud of their country and many of the children joined the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts here.

There are various monuments and markers remembering the 31 killed in action fighting for our country in Europe while their relatives were imprisoned, for the over 1,000 US military veterans from this camp including many interpreters, and for the over 100 inmates who died here, some before their time. While many were later reinterred elsewhere, a few graves remain in a Japanese styled cemetery, along with a memorial stone and a photo of the original epitaph, written in Japanese.

Interestingly, Colorado citizens of Japanese ancestry were not incarcerated, because the governor, Ralph Carr, correctly believed the program to be unconstitutional, arguing that once a majority violates the rights of a minority, “then you as a minority may be subjected to the same ill-will of the majority tomorrow.” His principles likely cost him his next election. (If the nearby town of Chivington wants to replace its shameful name, they could rename their town Carr).

But the Japanese [Americans] are protected by the same Constitution that protects us.
An American citizen of Japanese descent has the same rights as any other citizen. …
If you harm them, you must first harm me.
I was brought up in small towns where I knew the shame and dishonor of race hatred.
I grew to despise it, because it threatened the happiness of you and you and you.

Colorado Governor Ralph Carr to a hostile audience in 1942

Thomas Jefferson Memorial

The memorial is open & under maintenance with climate driven flooding at the Tidal Basin. Tom’s face has some cobwebs, and his reputation is also ebbing, as the stain of his slave exploitation will never wash. So, let’s clear up why he has a monument. Among other things, Jefferson was Governor of Virginia, Ambassador to France, codifier of religious freedom, the primary author of the Declaration of Independence, proposer of the Bill of Rights, Washington’s Secretary of State, John Adams’ Vice President, 3rd President, purchaser of the Louisiana Territory, appointer of Lewis & Clark, President of the American Philosophical Society, founder of the University of Virginia, and classical architect whose memorial resembles his own work, Monticello.

Jefferson was also a racist who owned hundreds of slaves in his lifetime, fathered children with one beginning when Sally Hemmings was a teenager, and sold over 100 slaves at auction through his will. He opposed slavery in theory and condemned it in his original draft of the Declaration (edited out to placate Georgia and South Carolina). But despite his ideals, Jefferson feared a Haitian-style rebellion and believed there was too much animosity between people of different races to reconcile and live together in peace. As President, Jefferson began removing Native Americans from the southeast in return for “new” land around Oklahoma (which was already populated with Native Americans).

Recognizing what he did that was wrong, we need to imagine what he could have done better, beyond freeing all his slaves, and not just Sally and her children. Nationally he should done more to end slavery, As a slave-owning President who added the Louisiana Territory to our country, Jefferson was uniquely suited to end slavery and offer reparations to slaves by setting aside a significant portion of that territory for ex-slaves to homestead. Similarly, instead of removing Native Americans from their sacred homelands, Jefferson should have honored and signed more treaties protecting their land and culture, especially in the “new” territory.

I view Jefferson as having missed his opportunity to solve those great moral challenges. But I have little patience for people who criticize Jefferson for his moral failings, without considering whether they themselves are doing enough about the greatest moral challenge of our time. Jefferson hated the idea that people would live “under the barbarism of their ancestors”. Jefferson was a student of science who loved nature, so he would be appalled by our lack of action in stopping the climate crisis.

“I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.”

Thomas Jefferson

Constitution Gardens

DC is confusing, park-wise. First of all, parks usually have a type (monument, memorial, etc.) but not this one. Second, there are overlapping layers. Constitution Gardens originally referred to a large area, including the National Mall, but now both parks are part of the National Mall and Memorial Parks, which is a grouping but not a park unit. In 1982 the area with a pond next to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, was established as this park unit in tribute to the Constitution, and it’s signature feature (above) is the semicircle of stones on Signers Island. Which is nice, but, third, these are not signers of the Constitution but rather of the Declaration of Independence.

I know that, because I’m from Concord, Massachusetts and my father was a history major. So I went to the Massachusetts contingent where I saw five names I recognized. John Hancock, John and Sam Adams (yes, the beer guy was a real patriot) didn’t attend the convention. Robert Paine (unrelated to the guy who wrote Common Sense) wasn’t a delegate, and Elbridge Gerry (for whom Gerrymandering is named) was there as a delegate but didn’t sign the Constitution. Only 39 of the 55 delegates actually signed. The important thing was that they had enough votes to pass it and send to the states to ratify.

But, the garden-variety misnomer not withstanding, the signers of the Declaration of Independence did risk their lives, fortunes and sacred honor by signing that document. Their signatures on paper, here captured in stone, meant Treason against the King, punishable by death. 56 brave patriots, including Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Robert Morris, Thomas Stone and the others remembered in this garden signed, and we owe them all our thanks.

Federal Hall National Memorial

From the balcony outside, George Washington was sworn in as our first President in 1789. In 1790, Congress passed the Bill of Rights here, which was appropriate since the Zenger case that defined freedom of the press was tried here in 1735 and since the 1765 Stamp Act protests outside here defined freedom of assembly. The current version of Federal Hall was a Customs House in 1842 and later became a bullion depository for the US Treasury, which is appropriate given that it is around the corner from the NY Stock Exchange. New York City’s national park sites all seem to serve multiple purposes, as layers of history stack up in crowded urban spaces, but this quiet site offers a moment of respite to reflect on our past as we must prepare to face our future. I recommend eating at Fraunces Tavern nearby, since it predates our founding and is the oldest restaurant in New York City.