The post contains some affiliate links
Friends,
In the wake of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Americans felt a wave of fear and suspicion wash over the country, and it wasn’t long before that fear turned into something much worse for some of their neighbors.
Within weeks, the government launched a campaign against Japanese Americans, driven by deep-seated racial prejudice and wartime hysteria. In Washington State, especially in Seattle and surrounding towns, communities faced the unimaginable: they were being forcibly removed from their homes.
On 24 March 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, a decree that allowed the military to exclude anyone from ‘designated areas’. This act set into motion the establishment of internment camps across the nation1.
While we know that 120,000 Japanese Americans were swept into this tragic chapter of history, the aftermath of their internment remains shrouded in mystery. What became of their dreams, their families, their very identities once they left the confines of Minidoka? The answers elude us, lost in the echoes of time, leaving a haunting silence where their stories should be.
Back Story
On 7 December 1941, the Empire of Japan decided to throw a surprise party at Pearl Harbor, and let’s say it wasn’t the kind of surprise anyone wanted.
The attack ignited a wave of panic that swept across the nation, especially along the West Coast. Suddenly, the idea of national security became a hot topic, fueled not only by fear but also by economic competition and a long history of anti-Asian sentiment. In short, it was a recipe for disaster for Japanese Americans.
With the scent of paranoia in the air, lobbyists from western states—many representing competing economic interests or nativist groups—rushed to Congress and the President, demanding the removal of anyone with Japanese ancestry from the West Coast. Removal included both the issei (the first-generation Japanese immigrants) and the nisei (the second generation, who were U.S. citizens by birthright).
During congressional hearings, some Department of Justice representatives bravely voiced constitutional and ethical objections to this proposal. Did it work? Not even a little bit.
“If it is a question of safety of the country, or the Constitution of the United States, why, the Constitution is just a scrap of paper to me.” -John McCloy, the Assistant Secretary of War
An Order is Issued
On 19 February 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, granting military commanders the authority to exclude civilians from designated military zones. While the order didn’t explicitly mention any ethnic group (a classic case of reading between the lines), Lieutenant General John L. DeWitt of the Western Defense Command took it upon himself to announce curfews that, coincidentally, only targeted Japanese Americans.
On December 19, 1941, General DeWitt had recommended to the Army’s GHQ “that action be initiated at the earliest practicable date to collect all alien subjects fourteen years of age and over, of enemy nations and remove them to the Zone of the Interior.”
Removal started on 23 March 1942, involving the evacuation of residents in Los Angeles. On that day, General DeWitt issued new directives for Japanese-Americans, establishing an 8 p.m. to 6 a.m. curfew and prohibiting possession of firearms, radios, cameras, and other prohibited items.
General DeWitt initially tried to sweeten the deal by encouraging voluntary evacuation from a few areas. Shockingly, only about seven percent of the Japanese American population opted to pack their bags. So, on 29 March 1942, under Roosevelt’s executive order, DeWitt issued Public Proclamation No. 4, effectively giving the Japanese American residents a 48-hour notice to leave their homes.
Oh, and just a few days before that, Congress passed Public Law 503, making it a misdemeanor to defy Executive Order 9066. Punishment? A year in prison or a $5,000 fine. Quite the incentive, right?
In the following six months, over 120,000 men, women, and children were forcibly relocated to “assembly centers,” which sounds benign until you realize Americans were then moved to isolated, fenced, and guarded “relocation centers,” better known as internment camps.2
The Puyallup Assembly Center
The Puyallup Assembly Center, better known as Camp Harmony, which was located at the Washington State Fairgrounds, played a significant role in the World War II internment of Japanese Americans. Established in 1942, the temporary facility served as one of the first stops for Japanese Americans forcibly removed from their homes in Washington, Oregon, and California.
Courtesy MOHAI (1986.5.6681.3)
The Puyallup Assembly Center detained around 7,000 Japanese Americans in hastily built barracks. Many families endured small, crowded quarters with little privacy. These makeshift buildings often lacked proper insulation and sanitation, making living conditions difficult. Internment residents struggled with cold winter temperatures, limited access to clean water, and inadequate heating. Food was simple and not very appealing, while healthcare services were scarce, raising health issues among those detained.3
Despite challenging conditions, internees strived to foster community by organizing social activities, religious services, and children’s educational programs. Many sought to resist their circumstances by engaging in cultural events and preserving their heritage through music, art, and communal gatherings.
Many people went to work, mostly in mess halls, while others used specialized skills as clerks, organizers, and medical aides. Teachers led young students through “vacation school,” and some volunteers established a rotating inter-area library with books donated by the local community or by the Japanese Americans themselves. Workers’ wages varied from $8 per month for unskilled labor to $16 for professionals.
The Minidoka Camp
The Minidoka camp4, located near Hunt, Idaho, was one of ten facilities where Japanese Americans were interned during World War II. Transfers from assembly centers to these relocation camps kicked off in June 1942 and continued through October.
The first group arrived at Minidoka on 9 August, when 213 brave volunteers made the journey from Camp Harmony to help prepare the camp for its new residents. They were expecting daily trainloads of around 500 people, ready to settle into their new, albeit temporary, home.
At Minidoka, the camp was overseen by military personnel from the United States Army—young soldiers who were likely still figuring out how to fold their laundry, let alone manage a camp of interned American citizens. Their job was to enforce a strict set of regulations, which, let’s be honest, felt a bit excessive considering most of the internees were American citizens born to Japanese immigrant parents.
Imagine being surrounded by barbed wire while young soldiers, fresh out of basic training, patrolled the grounds, their orders focused on maintaining order and thwarting any escape attempts. It was a striking illustration of the government’s deep-seated distrust of the Japanese American community.
Daily Life
I think that was the best adjustment really the Army could give us, to herd us all together to get us used to queuing up in lines and being a bit more patient and learning to get along because we were in such tight quarters. I think without them knowing, it was the greatest thing to do. When we went to Minidoka the trauma wasn’t there.- Sharon (Tanagi) Aburano
Life at Minidoka was like a quirky microcosm of World War II America—minus the freedom, of course. Children attended two elementary schools and a high school that boasted more than 1,200 students. Imagine a bustling campus where the only thing missing was the freedom to leave at the bell. Education remained a priority, with teachers often fellow inmates who bravely took on the challenge of providing a semblance of normalcy amid the chaos.
Victory Gardens were the name of the game, as families rolled up their sleeves to till the land and grow their own food. It was a clever way to supplement the limited rations and a nod to the wartime slogan that urged everyone to do their part. “Dig for Victory!” became less about a cheerful gardening pastime and more about making sure you didn’t go hungry.
And there was other work to be done—specifically in Idaho’s farming fields. Around 2,400 internees helped haul in the 1943 harvest, proving that when life gives you beets, you might as well make sugar. In a delightful stroke of irony, an ad from the Amalgamated Sugar Company at the end of a local publication thanked the “Japanese Workers” for their labor. Because nothing says “thank you” quite like a corporate acknowledgment in the middle of a national crisis.
Watch the official National Park Service film for the Minidoka National Historic Site by clicking here.
Still Willing to Answer the Call
Meanwhile, the call of duty echoed through many of the camps. An impressive 844 men from Minidoka volunteered for military service with the 100th/442nd Regimental Combat Team, a unit that would go on to collect more medals than some Olympic teams.5
Tragically, 73 of these brave souls made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. Yet, in a twist of irony that could only happen in wartime, their families weren’t allowed to leave the camp to attend their funerals. It’s hard to imagine a more disheartening scenario.
Camp Closure
Japanese internment camps were mostly shut down between late 1945 and March 1946, following the dramatic December 1944 rescinding of exclusion orders, spurred on by the Supreme Court’s ruling in Ex parte Endo.
Now, Tule Lake was a bit of a drama queen in this narrative. It held those labeled as “disloyal” or “resisters” and decided it wasn’t quite ready for the curtain call. So, it lingered on until March 1946, like that one party guest who can’t take a hint.
As for the War Relocation Authority (WRA), the group in charge of managing these camps, it officially disbanded on 30 June 1946. Talk about a tough gig! After overseeing a complex operation fraught with ethical dilemmas, they finally got to clock out—hopefully with some good stories to tell at the next barbecue.
When it came time for residents to return to their lives, they were given a train ticket and a small stipend, which felt like a “Welcome back, and good luck rebuilding your lives from scratch!” Remarkably, about half of them decided to return to the West Coast, despite the odds stacked against them.
Aftermath
Many Japanese Americans faced a harsh reality when they returned home after internment. Forced to sell their homes, businesses, and farms at a fraction of their worth, they often found their properties occupied by strangers or sold off entirely. It was like returning from a long vacation only to discover that someone had moved into your house and claimed it as their own. Legal battles ensued, but these were often as fruitful as trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded. Lost records and complex legalities made the process frustratingly difficult.
Many Japanese Americans were met with hostility and discrimination from their own communities. It was as if they’d stepped into a different world, suddenly unwelcome. Job opportunities evaporated, and social ostracism became the norm. Industries that had once provided livelihoods—like agriculture and fishing—shut them out as if they had never existed.
Imagine being told that your skills are no longer needed in the very fields you helped build.
The emotional toll of internment and the challenges of reintegration were significant. The trauma of being forcibly removed from their homes and the uncertainty that loomed over their futures left lasting psychological scars. It was a heavy burden to bear, one that many families struggled with for years.
Apologies
In a bid to address some of the economic losses, the U.S. government introduced the Japanese American Evacuation Claims Act of 1948. Unfortunately, the compensation offered was laughable—more like a token gesture than actual restitution. The bureaucratic process was so convoluted that many claimants received only a fraction of their real losses, akin to getting a coupon for a free coffee when you’ve just lost your house.
It wasn’t until the Civil Liberties Act of 1988 that a formal apology was issued, along with a symbolic payment to surviving internees. While it was a step in the right direction, one couldn’t help but think: “Better late than never,” but a little timelier acknowledgment could have made a world of difference.
To hear the personal narratives of some of the Japanese Americans who endured this tragedy, please click here.
Final Thoughts
The history of the Japanese concentration camp in Washington and the broader internment experience serve as a poignant reminder of the fragility of civil liberties in times of crisis. The unjust treatment of Japanese Americans during World War II highlights the importance of vigilance in protecting the rights of all individuals, regardless of their background.
As we reflect on this dark chapter in American history, we must commit to ensuring that such injustices are never repeated.
Watch recorded interviews with Japanese Americans and others discussing WWII incarceration and related topics. The Densho Digital Repository features over 900 oral histories, each fully transcribed and organized for easy viewing. Click here.
Until next time, Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.
Those hungry to learn more, check out these books:
Farewell to Manzanar: A Powerful Memoir of Growing Up in a Japanese Incarceration Camp. In Farewell to Manzanar, Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston recalls life at Manzanar through the eyes of the child she was and the experiences of her family. She relays the mundane and remarkable details of daily life during an extraordinary period of American history: The wartime imprisonment of civilians, most native-born Americans, in their own country, without trial, and by their fellow Americans.
Infamy: The Shocking Story of the Japanese American Internment in World War II. In Infamy, the story of this appalling chapter in American history is told more powerfully than ever before. Acclaimed historian Richard Reeves has interviewed survivors, read numerous private letters and memoirs, and combed through archives to deliver a sweeping narrative of this atrocity. Men we usually consider heroes-FDR, Earl Warren, Edward R. Murrow-were in this case villains, but we also learn of many Americans who took great risks to defend the rights of the internees.
Subscribe below to stay up to date on myths, legends, mysteries, and the chaos of history.
If you’re looking for your next favorite read, I invite you to check out my series, The Raven Society. This spellbinding historical fantasy series takes us on a heart-pounding journey through forgotten legends and distorted history. Uncover the chilling secrets of mythology and confront the horrifying truths that transformed myths into monstrous realities. How far will you go to learn the truth?
The Writer and The Librarian (Book 1):
Signed copies at:
https://rlgeerrobbins.com/product/the-writer-and-the-librarian-the-raven-society-book-1/
Explore more blogs here:
Footnotes:
- There were a total of 10 War Relocation Authority (WRA) concentration camps located in California, Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, and Arkansas ↩︎
- The exact number is hard to pinpoint; however, 125,284 names have been identified in recent comprehensive research. ↩︎
- Army statisticians documented at the Puyallup Assembly Center a total of 37 births, 11 deaths, and, specifically in August, seven surgeries performed, along with 2,260 outpatient treatments. ↩︎
- The origin of the word “Minidoka” remains a bit of a mystery. Some believe it might come from an American Indian language, possibly meaning “well” or “spring.” Others suggest it could be derived from Shoshone, translating to “broad expanse.” ↩︎
- The 442nd, including the 100th Battalion, was honored with seven Distinguished Unit Citations, more than 4,000 Purple Hearts, and a large number of individual decorations for bravery, including 21 Medals of Honor, 29 Distinguished Service Crosses, 588 Silver Stars, and more than 4,000 Bronze Stars. ↩︎
Sources:
Executive Order 9066: Resulting in Japanese-American Incarceration (1942) | National Archives
The Return of Japanese Americans to the West Coast in 1945 | The National WWII Museum | New Orleans
San Francisco History by Subject Page 1 – Museum of the City of San Francisco
Camp Harmony (Puyallup Assembly Center), 1942 – HistoryLink.org
National Museum of the United States Army