New
and Old facets of Manzanar
Before Los
Angeles siphoned
off all of the water in Owens Valley, before the Carson
& Colorado Railroad, before the internment of our own
Japanese American citizens, before the mining, sheep, cattle
and agricultural pioneers, the area of Manzanar was used for
centuries by the native Shoshone and Paiute Indians. It wasn't
until the early 20th century (around 1910) that the area of Manzanar
developed into a thriving agricultural community. Remnants of
these orchards are still visible today.
Two months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941
President
Roosevelt signed the order to intern all people of Japanese
ancestry. By March of the next year construction had begun on
the Japanese internment camp at Manzanar located between Lone
Pine and Independence in Owens Valley. Manzanar interned approximately
10,000 people (most of them American citizens) on some 6,000
acres of arid desert land. The
facility consisted of the internment camp, agricultural use areas,
a reservoir, airport, cemetery, and sewage treatment plant.
Approximately 550 acres of this area was surrounded by barbed
wire and guard towers containing the living
area for the internees and various administrative facilities.
All that remains of the camp are rock foundations, tumbleweeds,
dead orchards and the forever-changed lives of those surviving
10,000 internees. The monolithic marker in the cemetery is an
ever-present reminder of the final price that some Japanese Americans
were required to pay just because of their cultural heritage.

The cemetery monument.
The Japanese Kanji (I, Rei, Toh) reads:
"To Console the Spirits" |

Site of the Hospital Complex. |

Looking south from the entrance to the cemetery. |
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Site of the nurses quarters. |
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Site of the Hospital Complex. |
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Site of the Hospital Complex. |

What once was "home," if it could be called that at
all, is now but ruins and placards. (Dorthea Lange photo) |
|
Charlie Mulcahy of Wilmington,
CA writes: |
Ray,
When I was growing up, I had a neighbor who was like a father
to me. His name was Saburo Seko. His parents were fishermen on
Terminal Island. He told me how the US Army soldiers met him
at the ferry boat terminal one day after attending a movie in
San Pedro. He taught me about the pain his family went through.
How the Jews came into their village and paid them pennies on
the dollar for their home furnishings. How some of the families
were lucky enough to have white families who stored their property
in their homes. He took me camping at Manzanar. I got a week
long tour of where his family lived. He showed me the rock formation
in front of where his home stood that to this day says "SEKO".
His words made the water gardens and the fruit trees come alive.
We went swimming in the water reserve pond. We caught fish in
George's creek. He told me what it was like to graduate from
high school at the "camp". Every time my family drives
U.S. Highway 395, we stop and look around. The last few times,
I have lost where his home was. My friend Sab is gone now, died
of a heart attack. I am glad he shared his
experiences with me.
Charlie Mulcahy (August 2001)
This is a map of the site of Manzanar as it appears today. |

|
David Sosona of San Diego, CA writes: |
Ray,
Having driven past Manzanar many times over the last 30 years,
I finally stopped and looked this past summer (2002). I found
the remnants of the water gardens so compelling that I came back
with a camera about a month later. Unfortunately, I couldn't
do justice to the barren wasteland and scrub that is/was Manzanar.
I've been searching the web this evening looking for pictures
of those gardens as they were--so far no luck. They must have
been beautiful and I have been filled with admiration for the
artistry of their builders.
I remember the stone circle with the cement cap and the phrase
'built by Wada and Crew' along with the date and the signatures
of the crew. I can't describe it exactly, but having a name on
the stonework suddenly made for a sharper connection for me.
Who was Wada? What happened to him? When I saw the letter from
his granddaughter here in San Diego I felt glad
to know that he lives on through her.
Charlie Mulcahy's story of his friend Saburo Seko would have
been another touching account but for the phrase "How the
Jews came into their village and paid them pennies on the dollar
for their home furnishings." I don't know what really happened;
Whether the people that took advantage of Mr. Seko were Jewish
or whether Mr. Seko accepted prejudices which were common at
that time. I do know that without the balancing accounts of other
internees who were ripped off by THEIR neighbors, Mr. Mulcahy's
story perpetuates a stereotype that is as repugnant to me as
the phrase "Japs" would be to the descendants of Manzanar
internees. I'm not sure I can clarify my feelings any better
than that. Perhaps it rankles because it is not Mr. Seko's firsthand
account but rather a story that is being retold by a non-Japanese-American
who wasn't there at the time. Or, just as likely the reason it
bothered me so much is that at Manzanar I tripped over my own
stereotypes. When I visited the Manzanar cemetery it was July
4. I remember seeing lots of little American flags attached to
the fence and thinking "Now why would there be American
flags at a Japanese Cemetery...." and I remember feeling
ashamed when I realized that I was thinking "Japanese",
rather than "AMERICAN" citizens that were locked up
because of their skin color. A fitting reminder for me that I've
got some "scrubbing out" to do in my own head, and
another reason it's important that Manzanar be remembered.
Dave
(October 2002) |

Manzanar Free Press
Complete Issues from the Manzanar National Historic Site
 |



Dry ditch at
the site of Manzanar
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