History is something that has always been an interest to me. It’s not only a tool to understand our past, but it also allows us to learn from mistakes and to hopefully not make them again. As one of the Interpretation Rangers at Yosimite said, “All history has an expiration date. It’s up to us to prevent it from doing so.” I think that statement is spot on. We each have a duty as Americans to keep U.S history alive.
At least for me, I use to think that 70 years was a long time ago, but in actuality it really isn’t. Actions and decisions that were made then still are effecting people to this day. How do you ask? Well for one example the “War Relocation Centers” of World War II. They effected over 120,000 Japanese and Japanese Americans. One of the camps (likely the most known) is Manzanar, which is located right off of Highway 395.
On my trek down I decided to make a stop and visit the “camp”. When you drive through the main gate there is a feeling that comes over you. I can’t describe it but its present. The National Park Service has done an excellent job with the help of the former internees to tell the true story of this site. Manzanar is about five miles by five miles and was arranged into 36 blocks that each held 14 barracks, a mess hall, recreation hall, ironing room, laundry room, and a men’s and women’s latrine. The barrack had four rooms with eight people per room. With the blocks housing up to 300 people they became distinct communities. Manzanar was active from February 1942 to November 1945 and housed just over 10,000 people.
On the West side of the “camp” is the cemetery and Monument. There is where this whole experience became real and hit home for me. When I rolled up the access road I noticed a family standing at the monument. One ranger, four adults,and two young adults. As I was de-gearing one of the adults came up to me and started asking me about the bike. After talking about it and the trip I asked what brought him and his family to visit. It turned out that his parents were internees their. Him and his three siblings learned about it just before their fathers passing. The parents did not want the kids to deal with the pain and knowledge of there internment, so they did not tell the kids till just before the last parents passing. Here standing in front of me was a family still dealing with the fallout of this atrocity 71 years later. I was left speechless and emotional as we said our goodbyes. I spent some time alone there after they left, then packed up and headed south.
Having spent a few days to think about this experience and try to put it in words, I’ve come to a conclusion that we as Americans are duty bound to prevent such atrocities from happening here again. I know that in the fallout of recent and current events it’s again easy to racially profile certain ethnicities but we are so much better than that. And we need to learn from our past to prevent it from getting that far ever again!