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Resiliency

The ruthless bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941 created such fear that overnight anyone in America of Japanese descent suddenly became the enemy: neighbors, schoolmates, and local business owners all became possible spies.

Darrin and I often talk about how resilient we have become during this journey due to the constant change of moving from place to place and basically living outdoors in all types of weather, all kinds of environments, at all elevations, and around all types of animals and people. Today, we were once again humbled when we visited the Minidoka Relocation Center just north of Twin Falls, Idaho.

In 1942, months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt signed Executive order 9066 which forced over 120,000 west coast persons of Japanese descent into ten prison camps, Minidoka Relocation Center was one of the ten.

Hastily built, Minidoka housed approximately 10,000 individuals of Japanese descent from Alaska, Bainbridge Island, Washington and the west coast of Oregon. Placed in a deserted corner of the Idaho high desert, the tar and green wood structures of the camp gave the incarcerated individuals very little protection from the bitter cold winters and blazing hot summers.

What stuck with Darrin and I as we walked around the remains of Minidoka was the resiliency of the people incarcerated there. The camp had very little privacy, the bare necessities of a civilized life and weather unlike anything they had experienced on the west coast, yet they built a life in the camp. They created activities to relieve the boredom, turned the high desert into farmland for fresh food, and turned the tar covered barrack cubicles into homes.

The historic site said the Japanese had a saying, “Shikata ga nai” which means “it can’t be helped”. I guess in modern slang it would be similar to “shit happens”, so make the best of it and carry on. Once again we have come across people who have more resiliency then I could ever imagine. Sometimes it is really a struggle not to pass judgements on the past. We weren’t there, we didn’t walk in their shoes, but what the hell. How can such awful things happen in a supposedly civilized world.

Guard towers and barberd wire surrounded the camp.
Tar paper that absorbed the hot sun, and green wood that shrank as it dried, provided very little privacy and protection from the elements.
Sage brush and scrub turned into productive farmland to provide themselves with fresh food.
A glimpse into the past that is easy to pass judgement on, except we weren’t there to understand the fear war induces into an otherwise civilized society.
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Fort Stevens

Fort Stevens, just outside Astoria, Oregon, was first built to protect towns on the Columbia River during the Civil War from Confederate gunboats, it was actually finished after the Confederate Army surrendered. The fort continued to expand and grow in the following years. During WWI, a number of the gun emplacements were shifted to France. During WWII, it was the site of the first attack on the US continent when a Japanese submarine tried to shell the fort.

We spent the afternoon walking the grounds, learning the history of the fort, and exploring the bunkers & gun installations. An interesting day immersed in cool history, but a little creepy.

The Civil war part of the fort included earthworks and a moat. Nothing else remains of the original fort.
The later fort included strategically placed batteries. Each round shaped area housed a large gun facing the mouth of the Columbia River.
The large guns would remain hidden behind the concrete until firing, then they would automatically pivot up, fire and sink back down.
A replica of the sign made bythe soldiers after the attempted Japanese bombing during WWII.
Darrin scanning the horizon for intruders.
Tidbit: Note the Picatinny armament on the gun’s powder canister. M’s grandparents worked at the Picatinny Arsenal during WWII.