February 19, 2003
Memo:IF YOU'RE INTERESTED
To learn more about the Tulelake camp preservation effort, go to www.gaylonn.com/tulelake.
FORMER INTERNEE
SAVING HIS PAST
BID TO SAVE CAMPS
IS LINKED TO DAY OF REMEMBRANCE
CECILIA
KANG, Mercury News
As Jimi
Yamaichi kicked up the dust along the barbed-wire fence, the long-buried
memories
of his years at the Tulelake internment camp rose in a flood of
emotion.
It had
taken more than four decades for the San Jose native to muster the courage
to revisit
the site where his family was imprisoned during World War II.But the
400-mile pilgrimage to the camp in 1991 didn't give him the closure he
had sought. Instead, it marked the start of his crusade to preserve
the Tulelake camp and to ensure that this painful chapter of Japanese-American
history would never be forgotten.
''Everything
came back to me, how we had struggled and toiled in the dirt and dust
there,'' said Yamaichi, 80. ''I realized then that we have to tell people
about what happened to us so that it won't happen again.''
As the
incarceration of 120,000 Japanese-Americans is commemorated today in
the Day of Remembrance,
many former internees such as Yamaichi have stressed the
importance of preventing a similar fate for Arab Americans and Muslims
in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks. Some see a permanent Tulelake
memorial as one answer.
The drive
to save Tulelake is part of a growing movement among former internees
to preserve the 10 main internment camps, two of them in California.
So
far, only Manzanar in Southern California and Minidoka camp in Idaho
have been designated as preservation sites.
Like many second-generation,
or nisei, Japanese-Americans, Yamaichi is now racing to record the stories
and and protect the camps. In their 70s and 80s, they are the last of
a generation with firsthand accounts of the camps.
But it
took many years for the grandfather of four to even talk about the four
years he
lived at the Heart Mountain, Wyo., and Tulelake internment camps.
After
he was released from Tulelake in 1946, Yamaichi, then 24 years old, quickly
buried that part of his life, looking for a fresh start with his wife,
Eiko. The couple moved to San Jose, where Jimi was raised on his family's
Berryessa vegetable farm. They tried to assimilate with their white neighbors,
as prejudice against Japanese-Americans lingered well into the 1960s
and 1970s. And Jimi spent long hours building his construction company.
He retired last year.
Yamaichi
never dreamed of going back to Tulelake, the site of so many lost dreams
and so much despair. ''It's no different than prison. Who goes back to
visit the jail they were in after being released?'' he said. ''There
are onlyhard memories there, and you just want to move on.''
Jeanne
Wakatsuki Houston, author of ''Farewell to Manzanar,'' which documents
her family's experience in that camp, said many former internees have
suppressed their memories. ''It was such a shocking and traumatic experience
that it takes many at least 25 to 30 years before they can start to address
it again,'' she said.
Gradually,
however, Yamaichi's views began to change. His four children and grandchildren
were beginning to ask more questions. As he grew older, he reflected
more on how the camps had affected his life.
He began
to talk to his children and friends about how his father used most of
the family's savings to buy winter clothes for his 10 children during
the harsh winter at Heart Mountain. He recounted how they chose to move
a year later to Tulelake, the largest camp. He spoke about how he was
forced to support his family by heading construction and maintenance
at the camp for $19 a month.
And he
told about his frustration with the uncertainty of his future. Yamaichi
should have been dating, going to college or starting his first job.
Instead, he felt his life was at a standstill. Yamaichi never went to
college.
He decided
to make a trip back to Tulelake with Eiko, who was also interned there
from 1942 to 1943. Eiko's family left Tulelake before the Yamaichi family
arrived. The couple met later through friends.
Despite
the many years since their experiences there, the couple were overwhelmed
by what they saw.
The concrete
jail that Yamaichi helped build was crumbling, and the bars had been
stolen from the windows and the doors. But poems and cries for help by
prisoners were still scratched on the walls. There were just small stretches
remaining of the 32 miles of barbed wire that surrounded the camp.
Residents
in Newell, the town nearest to the camp, had built houses, a store and
school on former camp property, using the water and sewer system that
Yamaichi helped build.
''It
was earthshaking to stand on the same ground and see the buildings, many
of them that I helped build,'' Yamaichi said. There are only about 25
buildings left of a thousand barracks, kitchens, stores and other buildings
that once crowded the land.
In an
ironic twist, Yamaichi decided over the next few years to save the place
that he had been running from. So in 1996, Yamaichi helped form the Tule
Lake Committee to try to gain preservation status for Tulelake through
the National Park Service. The committee has eight volunteers leading
the effort.
''Tulelake
is an American story about how discrimination affected the lives of 120,000
Japanese,'' Yamaichi said. ''We need to preserve the site so that people
can see what it looked like and understand what we went through.''
Tulelake
was officially a segregation center, designated for the thousands of
Japanese-Americans -- many still Japanese citizens -- who didn't answer
''yes'' to questions testing their loyalty to the U.S. government. Of
the 18,700 internees at Tulelake, roughly three-fourths had been sent
to the camp because they answered ''no'' to the questions.
Yamaichi's
father agreed to the loyalty oath, but moved to Tulelake seeking warmer
weather for his heart problems.
The effort
to preserve Tulelake has gone slowly. Much of the camp land is now privately
owned, and residents haven't been receptive to the committee's desire
to build a museum and reconstruct some of the old buildings, Yamaichi
said.
So far,
the committee has gained approval to build a small educational center
on a small government-owned piece of the camp.
''We've
faced a lot of resistance,'' said Yamaichi. ''But we won't stop working
to make sure Tulelake and its stories don't die.''
Illustration:Photos (3),
Map
PHOTO: DAI SUGANO -- MERCURY
NEWS
Former Tulelake internee Jimi Yamaichi is working to preserve the camp.
PHOTO: DAI SUGANO -- MERCURY NEWS
Jimi Yamaichi of San Jose revisits the Tulelake internment camp in spring 2001.
Behind him are stockades that were used to hold internees deemed ''trouble makers.''
PHOTO: DAI SUGANO -- MERCURY NEWS
Yamaichi relates his experiences at Tulelake to a group from City Year San Jose
last month at San Jose First United Methodist Church. Today is the Day of Remembrance
that commemorates the incarceration of 120,000 Japanese-Americans in World War
II.
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