Executive Order 9066

It is an ugly part of US history most people do not talk about. With the recent concern of the treatment of immigrants and the fate of our country's future, I felt the "writing bug" entice me to share part of my family's story. It was in 1949 when President Roosevelt signed the the order which sent Japanese-Americans to Internment camps. My grandparents, grand-aunt, father, aunt and other relatives were included in the group. We never discussed it while I was growing up. We never learned about it in school. All I truly remember hearing about it was when my family received checks for restitution. I don't even remember what the money was used for. My grandparents probably just invested it. My dad did not live to see the check. Ironically, my grandmother's brother had passed away and the check was in the family's mailbox when they returned home from his funeral. Living with and taking care of my grandparents for 5 years allowed me to hear small bits and pieces of their story. My grandmother said my aunt, who was just a baby, learned to walk and talk while in "camp". My dad would watch my grandmother scrub laundry on a washboard. He wanted to play with it and have fun. So, my grandfather purchased a small one for him. I have it hanging in my house today. My grand-aunt told me about the friends she made. There were happy stories and sad stories. One particular was one of fear and anger. My great-grandfather was with the family in camp. He was a Sunday school teacher at the Methodist church my family belonged to. While in camp, officials came and took him away in the middle of the night. No explanation was given. The officials suspected he was helping the enemy, Japan. He spoke very little English. For 5 days, my grandfather and the rest of the family feared for his safety. They and other friends wrote a letter to their pastor, asking for assistance in getting my great-grandfather released. The pastor responded by stating the church would not get involved. It was then my grandfather chose to let go of his faith in religion and our family stopped church ties. Thankfully, my great-grandfather was returned to the family, but it made a horrible impression that stayed with everyone forever. Both my grandparents spoke to me about all the things they had to sell and get rid of before being taken from their home. They could only take one suitcase and whatever they could carry. Somehow, my grandfather managed to take in a camera. We have some photos of my father as a young boy because of that camera. My grandfather told me about how he lied about having experience in farming and irrigation so he could leave camp to work on a farm part-time. He and friends he made in camp would take a bus or train to a nearby farm hear the camp Heart Mountain in Wyoming. He laughed and said, "We didn't know a god damned thing about irrigation. But we sure as hell learned!" I had asked my grandparents if they would ever want to visit the campsite or the Japanese Heritage Museum where they had a barrack on display. The answer was always, "No." Simply, yet stern. I never asked why, but knew in my heart there was so much feeling of shame and resentment for what happened to them. My father would grow up and serve in the US Army, despite how our government treated him and his family. And every year for Veterans' Day and Memorial Day, my grandfather would proudly display an American flag on our front porch. The resilience and respect he had amazed me. This was all part of my family heritage and my country's history. The concern and fear it may happen again brings this series of events back to the public's awareness and I just wanted to share our part.