AT THE SMITHSONIAN

What’s Changed in the 30 Years Since the Smithsonian Opened an Exhibition on Japanese Internment

A new display at the American History Museum marks the 75th Anniversary of Executive Order 9066

Roger Catlin

Museums Correspondent

February 27, 2017

Honolulu Star-Bulletin newspaper, December 7, 1941 Richard Strauss, NMAH

Like thousands of other teens, Himeo Tsumori had to complete his high school education in Utah's Topaz camp. This diploma and senior yearbook recognize his 1943 graduation from Topaz High School. Richard Strauss, NMAH

These dog tags were worn by Private Cedrick Shimo, who served while his mother was held at a U.S. Justice Department internment camp in Crystal City, Texas. Kaz Morita, NMAH

At the outset of the war, most Japanese Americans were considered ineligible to serve in the U.S. military. Masaharu Saito received this notice from his local draft board informing him that he was classified 4C—an “alien” designation, despite his citizenship. By 1943, as the military struggled to fill quotas, Saito and other Japanese Americans were deemed eligible to serve. Kaz Morita, NMAH

The Watanabe family brought this suitcase with them to Idaho's Minidoka camp. Evacuees were allowed to bring only what they could carry. Richard Strauss, NMAH

James Watanabe was issued this work release identification card to leave the camp temporarily for seasonal jobs. Kaz Morita, NMAH

Posted Civilian Exclusion Order by the Western Defense Command to all persons of Japanese ancestry within Colusa County, California, informing them that they are to be forcibly removed and what conditions they are to expect and how to proceed with their removal. Kaz Morita, NMAH

The Fuchigami family used this baggage tag with the number 17703 assigned to their family when they were ordered to leave their peach and walnut farm. Kaz Morita, NMAH

As a child, age 12 to 15, Bill Fuchigami wore this ID tag while he was held at the Amache camp in Colorado. Kaz Morita, NMAH

Toshi Ito, held at the Heart Mountain camp in Wyoming, kept this hand-carved wooden pin depicting traditional Japanese sandals. Richard Strauss, NMAH

This newborn bracelet belonged to Marlene Shigekawa, who was born October 23, 1944, at the Poston camp in Arizona. Richard Strauss, NMAH

Iwao Shimizu and his wife Fusako, tried to renounce their American citizenship to return to Japan, but could not get passage. They were then branded as disloyal and sent to the Tule Lake Segregation Center in California. Richard Strauss, NMAH

Sadao Oka joined a bird-carving class while at the Poston camp and created this display and tool box from the ends of wooden egg crates. Richard Strauss, NMAH

In 1943, after being held at Arizona's Jerome camp, Joe Nishimoto volunteered to serve with the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. Killed in action in 1944, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. But in 2000, after a review identifying under-recognized service members, the award was upgraded to a Medal of Honor. Hugh Talman, NMAH

Because he was a Japanese language instructor on a watch list, Iwao Shimizu was arrested by the FBI within hours of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Richard Strauss, NMAH

Handmade Mickey Mouse wooden sandals made by Jingo Takeuchi for his son, Goro Takeuchi who was prisoned in Topaz. Richard Strauss, NMAH

While held at Arizona's Poston camp, Yasu Takei made this 1,000-stitch sash, bestowing good luck and protection on her son Jim Kuichi Takei, who was fighting with the 442nd in Europe. Richard Strauss, NMAH

Chiura Obata’s painting depicts the shooting death of James Wakasa, who hard of hearing, did not stop after the warning shout from the guard tower. Richard Strauss, NMAH

These dog tags belonged to Alice Tetsuko Kono, originally from Hawai’i, who joined the Women’s Army Corp and served as a linguist in the Military Intelligence Service. Kaz Morita, NMAH

Relentless winds carried desert sands into every corner of the barracks at the Topaz camp in Utah, sketched in 1942 by artist Chiura Obata, who recalled that the never-ending sweeping and mopping “wears out the women to exhaustion.” Richard Strauss, NMAH

Can a museum exhibition change national policy?

Jennifer Locke Jones, a curator at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History believes it can. When she first worked on a 1987 exhibition about the incarceration of Japanese-American citizens during World War II, President Ronald Reagan had not yet signed the bill providing restitution for survivors as a way “to right a grave wrong.”

“There was no resolution,” says Jones. “There was no apology at the time.” Indeed, some visitors to the museum's exhibition “A More Perfect Union” had not been aware that 75,000 American citizens were imprisoned, along with 45,000 Japanese immigrants who were prohibited by law from becoming naturalized American citizens.

By the following year, however, Reagan would sign the bill that included a formal apology and compensation to more than 100,000 Japanese-Americans.

“One of the things that we recognize is that many members of Congress came down to see the exhibition,” Jones says. “The fact that it was here at the Smithsonian and this story was being told, there was a lot of talk at the time about it.”

The exhibition remained on view for 17 years, and during that time a memorial, the National Japanese American Memorial to Patriotism During World War II, was dedicated near the U.S. Capitol in 2000.

Now, to mark the 75th anniversary of the notorious Executive Order 9066 that called for the incarceration, the American History Museum has opened a new exhibition with help from the Teraski Family Foundation, the Japanese American Citizens League and AARP.

“Righting a Wrong: Japanese Americans and World War II” includes the document that President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed in February 1942, two months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, along with a number of artifacts from the era, from the Medal of Honor awarded to Private First Class Joe M. Nishimoto of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, to fragile family mementos depicting life in the 10 large, barbed-wire enclosed camps in the West that were in operation until 1946.

Wedding photograph. Jim and Setsuko (Eunice) Kurisu met and married in the Jerome camp. This photo is from their wedding day, April 20, 1944. Kaz Morita, NMAH

“One of the things that was really interesting when we did the first exhibition, we wanted to engage the public in the cycle of life that happened in the camps,” Jones says. “But we didn’t have the artifacts to show that cycle of life. People weren’t willing to give that up. It wasn’t something they wanted to talk about.”

In many cases, the children of those imprisoned, or those who were imprisoned as children, are now willing to donate items, she says, pointing out a particularly delicate crocheted dress for a toddler and worn by Lois Akiko Sakahara while imprisoned at Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming.

“You have a young child who is growing up in the camp she might have been 2, there’s a photograph of her and she’s wearing this dress that was crocheted in camp,” she says. “I love it. It’s fragile, and yet somebody preserved it and hung on to it. We also have a baby bracelet from a birth in the camp.”

Just as there was birth in the camps, there was death. “We were able to collect a death certificate, which we’ve never been able to collect before,” Jones says.

Mother and Newborn Child — Ellen Hashiguchi was born to Noboru and Kusuye (Irene) Hashiguchi at the Topaz camp on September 2, 1943. Kaz Morita, NMAH

There is also a marriage certificate from a union that took place in Jerome Camp in Arkansas, an ID booklet issued by the U.S. Dept. of Justice Alien Registration,” baggage and identification tags a high school diploma from the Topa War Relocation Center in Utah and a wicker suitcase that belonged to a family, forcibly removed to the Minidoka War Relocation Center in Idaho.

Bird carvings by Sadao Oka while imprisoned in Arizona were donated by his son Seishi Oka, who at 82, was present when the exhibition opened.

“I want to emphasize though that you might get the idea that all they did in camp was sit around and carve birds, or write poetry or whatever,” he says. “But it wasn’t really like that. Because I don’t really remember my father taking that time, watching him carve and paint some birds.

“He probably did it when we were asleep. I think they did that when they had the spare time. Because he did a lot of work. They created a farm for vegetables they got to eat. They were so poor, they grew their own.”

Nakano Family and Friends — Nakano family and friends at Heart Mountain camp in Wyoming, around 1944 Kaz Morita/NMAH

Oka was accompanied by his sister Mitzi Oka McCullough, and both were interested in the reproduction of a 1942 editorial cartoon by Theodor Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss.

“It’s interesting because Seuss did all those children’s books, which I had, and read to my daughter. and here he’s doing something so different,” she said. “That’s kind of stunning to me.”

She was 3 when they went into the camp; he was 5. “I am learning also because I was so young at the time,” said Oka, looking at the artifacts.

Living now in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, he’s found that fewer people were as familiar about the period of internment on the East Coast. “The information wasn’t disseminated at the time.”

Film and television actress Takayo Fischer first took to the stage in the Jerome camp in Arkansas. Kaz Morita, NMAH

“It was terrible, especially for my parents,” says Bob Fuchigami, a detainee with his family at the Granada War Relocation Center in Colorado, who was also present at the opening. “We had done nothing wrong. We did whatever the military told us to do. It was like martial law.”

Like many other families, Fuchigami, 86, says his family lost its farm in Yuma City, California, when they were relocated.

“It’s past history,” he says now. “But I’ll never forget. People say, ‘Why don’t you forget, it was a long time ago?’ I don’t forget.”

With the 1988 apology that the imprisonment was based on “race prejudice, war hysteria and a failure of political leadership” rather than military necessity, there were reparations eventually of $20,000 for survivors. But when it came, many of those who had been imprisoned had already died.

It’s something that’s never far away for Fuchigami. “You talk about what’s happening with Muslims. They’re really scared. It’s not only Muslims, it’s others. And it’s wrong,” he says. “They’re being targeted in the same way we were targeted. You look at the kind of propaganda that’s being passed around about their being dangerous. In our case, there was all this media distortion. I hate to say lies but that’s what it was. They lied.”

It leads to the original question: Could an exhibition, this exhibition, have a possible effect on national policy today?

“We hope people come in and understand American history,” Jones says. “We, as historians and as curators, want to offer people an understanding of our past so they can make sense of the present and create a more humane future for us as citizens of the United States. Through that, I’m hoping people come through here and learn about our past and learn about what executive orders can do, and how they affect people and communities.”

“Righting a Wrong: Japanese Americans and WWII” continues through Feb. 19, 2018 at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C.