A Field of Dreams Built in an Unlikely Place: A Japanese American Internment Camp
A baseball diamond buried long ago at Manzanar has been rebuilt to honor the Americans who once played the sport there
/https://tf-cmsv2-smithsonianmag-media.s3.amazonaws.com/accounts/headshot/adsheadshotcolor-edit.png)
Baseball was a way of life in the camps that incarcerated Japanese Americans during World War II. The United States government stripped the Americans who lived in these camps of their liberties, but for those communities, having played the game for generations, baseball brought them closer to each other and, paradoxically, to their country. At Manzanar, one such site at the foot of the Sierra Nevada in California, dozens of baseball and softball teams played regularly.
Decades after the camps closed, and after Japanese Americans had returned to their homes on the West Coast, Manzanar was established as a historic site. Replicas of camp buildings were erected to memorialize what had happened there, but the baseball field was in complete disrepair. Artist and baseball enthusiast Dan Kwong led the herculean restoration effort. Host Ari Daniel talks with Kwong and Smithsonian writer Rachel Ng, who reported on the endeavor.
A transcript is below. To subscribe to “There’s More to That,” and to listen to past episodes on a recently solved mystery surrounding the burial of John F. Kennedy, the only battalion during World War II composed entirely of Black women, and everything you wanted to know about sweating and sports, find us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.
Dan Kwong: My mother was a very unusual Japanese American woman, nisei, second-generation Japanese American, in that she was a storyteller herself, and she talked about Manzanar from when I was 6 years old.
Ari Daniel: This is Dan Kwong. He’s a storyteller just like his mom.
Kwong: Most people of her generation didn’t talk about this with their kids, so most of my peers knew very little about it. But I was hearing stories from childhood.
Daniel: Dan grew up in Los Angeles in the 1950s and ’60s, but the story we’re talking about today happened a three-and-a-half-hour drive north of there.
Kwong: Manzanar’s out kind of near Death Valley. I don’t know if I can remember exactly how my mom put it to a 6-year-old me, but it was something like, “Well, yeah, during the war, the government put us in these camps. And we had to leave everything behind and go live in these camps out in the desert.”
And I remember I was furious when I heard this story. I was furious, like, “What? What? They did what? How could they do that?”
Daniel: This took place before Dan was born, during the Second World War, when Dan’s mother was a child. She and her family were rounded up by government officials and placed in Manzanar, a Japanese internment camp in the middle of the California desert.
Kwong: The injustice, the unfairness of it all was so blatant. And I remember as a child, scouring my U.S. history books for any mention of this, and sometimes there would be a one-sentence paragraph.
Daniel: Yeah.
Kwong: That was a very impactful experience, to realize that this monumental piece of our history was invisible. Nobody knew about it. Nobody talked about it. It was unacknowledged. This was a defining moment in Japanese American history. Nothing was ever the same after this happened.
Daniel: Dan has made it a mission to ensure that you and I and anyone willing to listen knows the history of his family and of Manzanar, and he’s doing it through the lens of a pastime popular among Americans and Japanese alike: baseball.
Kwong: Oh, a baseball game in the desert. Cool. How come they’re playing in the desert? Well, there’s a story, right?
Daniel: From Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions, this is “There’s More to That,” the show where a connection to history never comes out of left field. I’m Ari Daniel. In this episode, the resurrection of a baseball diamond built and lost during a challenging moment in U.S. history.
Daniel: We begin on December 7, 1941, the night the Japanese Navy attacked Pearl Harbor.
Ng: And that night, the FBI actually started rounding up prominent Japanese community leaders.
Daniel: This is Rachel Ng. She wrote about Dan Kwong and the history of Manzanar for Smithsonian magazine.
Ng: Priests, teachers, professors, businessmen. They actually already had a list going on way back even in the ’30s, they started compiling a list of possible troublemakers in event of a war. And on February 19, 1942, President Roosevelt signed and issued the Executive Order 9066, and that authorized military commanders to exclude civilians from military areas.
And in the few months following that, they started designating different states on the West Coast as military zones, and that included California, Oregon, Washington and Arizona. In those military zones, they gave the military authority to basically force-evacuate people that they deemed as alien enemies, which included basically all of the Japanese American community and population there, which totaled around 120,000.
And the thing is, they didn’t differentiate between immigrants or American-born citizens—grandmothers, children, babies, women, men, everybody was rounded up, and from then they were transported to the concentration camps.
Daniel: And what was the purpose of these camps?
Ng: They were basically to isolate. They were afraid that there might be traitors or people revealing secrets to the Japanese Army. And so they just figured it was easier to just collect them all and put them all in the same place. They’ve also been told that it was for their own safety, and one of the internees was like, “If it was for our own safety, then why are the guards with their weapons facing in and not facing out?”
Kwong: So in 1943, the U.S. government started to let young adults leave camp to go to college back east. So my mother was admitted to Wheaton College in Massachusetts.
Daniel: This is Dan again.
Kwong: So she basically would commute, because in summertime she’d have to go back to be re-incarcerated, so she would commute from camp to college.
Daniel: Wow.
Kwong: And one summer, she’s coming back on the bus to Manzanar and her father is standing at the entrance gate of Manzanar waiting for her. The bus pulls up to Manzanar and stops. And just as she’s stepping off the bus, a little white boy asks his grandmother, “Grandma, what is this place?” And the grandmother answers, “This is where they put the bad people.”
As my mother steps off the bus, the bus doors closed, the bus pulls off, and my mother was furious because that was her father they were looking at, who was a really wonderful guy by every measure. And so it’s one of those stories of the small insults and indignities that just pile up.
Her father, my Japanese grandfather, was arrested by the FBI on the night of the Pearl Harbor attack. They came to the house at 9 o'clock that night and took him away. The FBI had a list of issei men, first-generation immigrant, Japanese men who they were planning to arrest if we went to war with Japan. And you were on that list if you had been traveling to Japan recently, if you were a community leader, or if you were involved in martial arts. Those qualified you as highly dangerous. So my grandfather was a leader in the local Japanese American community, and he was the vice president of the Southern California Judo Federation.
So he was picked up and he was shipped around for about two years. He was shipped around to different military prison facilities all over the country. There were about 1,000 to 1,400 men who were all arrested the night of the Pearl Harbor attack. He was finally allowed to rejoin the family at Manzanar in 1943.
Daniel: Can you tell me what was Manzanar’s purpose? How did people end up there and why were they there?
Kwong: Well, Manzanar was the first large camp to be completed and opened. So Manzanar was the closest one to a major city, three and a half hours north of L.A., and the camps held anywhere from 8,000 to 11,000 people.
Daniel: Wow. Big places.
Kwong: Well, Manzanar, overnight became the largest population between L.A. and Reno. It’s in the middle of nowhere.
Right away there were issues, because the government had no exit strategy for this move. Like, “What are we going to do with these people?” When people went into these camps, they had no idea if they were ever going to be released. Like, “Are we going to be here for the rest of our lives?” Nobody knew. It was pretty traumatic if you think about it from that perspective. One week, you’re a student at Dorsey High in Los Angeles, and the next minute, you’re out in the middle of the desert, surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers with machine guns.
Daniel: Really?
Kwong: Yeah. Yeah. The forced removal was called evacuation. “You’re being evacuated.” Like we were rescuing you from some calamity. And they were called relocation centers. That was the official term. They were relocation centers. But in fact, Franklin Roosevelt himself referred to them as concentration camps. It was a forced removal. So these camps happened, and they became these little cities.
Daniel: What was daily life like there?
Kwong: Daily life evolved over the years in camp. So I have a 104-year-old aunt who lives nearby me, and she was in the first group of women who went to Manzanar, who volunteered to go and help register people as they arrived. She was 21 years old. The camp was still being built when she arrived, and this was in March of 1942, which is pretty damn cold there. She said when she got there, there was no roof on their barracks.
Daniel: Oh my goodness.
Kwong: And it snowed the first night. They’re in cots with one army blanket over them, and there were no toilets. There was a trench dug in the ground. That was your toilet. The food they were given were old Army rations, like Vienna sausages, pickled cabbage. She said everybody was getting sick. So at the beginning, conditions were really abysmal.
And then over time, it became more and more civilized. The barracks were these very crudely made wooden structures that were wooden planks covered with black tar paper. And so there were all these cracks between the floorboards and the wall boards. And Manzanar is known for incredible windstorms and dust storms. And so you lived in dust. Dust would blow in through the cracks in the wall and up through the floorboards. And my mom said, “You’d wake up with a layer of dust all over you.”
Daniel: Wow.
Kwong: So people resorted to all kinds of strategies to try and deal with the dust. For example, they would get old tin cans, cut them open, flatten them out and hammer them over the big knot holes in the floor and the biggest cracks to block the dust from coming in.
Then, eventually, things began to improve. The mess halls received rice, for example, the basic staple of an Asian diet. The barracks had drywall added.
When they came to camp, you were only allowed to bring what you could carry. So usually it was two suitcases. So they began to order all kinds of goods from Sears, Roebuck. I mean, Sears, Roebuck and Montgomery Ward made a mint off of the internment camps. And people started to buy grass seed, and they started to plant little lawns, and they started to make little gardens around the barracks.
At first, you were not allowed to have any cameras or radios. Those were forbidden items. Toyo Miyatake was a photographer in Los Angeles who was, he was really the pre-eminent documenter of the Japanese American community in L.A. Toyo Miyatake is famous for smuggling a lens into camp and building a camera, a wooden box camera with his lens, and secretly taking pictures of Manzanar.
Daniel: Because it wasn’t allowed.
Kwong: It was not allowed. He was secretly shooting and documenting things. He has a massive body of photographs documenting Manzanar. And in fact, his grandson, Alan Miyatake, would send me an email every now and then. He’d say, “Hey, Dan. I was going through my archives. I found another baseball field photograph.”
Daniel: A baseball field at Manzanar. The connection between the sport and the Japanese and Japanese Americans goes back a long way.
Ng: OK, the history of baseball in Japan.
Daniel: Here’s Rachel again.
Ng: Baseball was first brought to Japan in 1872 by an American teacher named Horace Wilson, and he introduced baseball to his students at [a high school]. And back then, sports in Japan was more an individual sport—sumo wrestling, it was archery, it was very much rooted in traditions. And so the idea of having sort of a group sport where everybody was playing together, but also as one, really appealed to the population.
Daniel: A few years later, a Japanese man named Hiroshi Hiraoka, who developed a love of baseball while studying abroad in the United States, returned home.
Ng: He loved baseball and he missed it. So he started the first all-Japanese baseball team, and that really spread like wildfire. So this was the 1870s, and that was around the time where there was a large Japanese immigration into the West Coast.
Daniel: Japanese immigrants also came to Hawaii, which wasn’t a U.S. territory yet. There, they became a part of the burgeoning agricultural sector as harvesters of sugar cane, among other crops. Come 1924, the U.S. government effectively banned immigrants from all Asian countries, but the strong bond between baseball and Japanese Americans had already fully formed.
Ng: And when they came, it was something that they already knew. They already knew how to play baseball, and it was a way for them to unwind after long days working the sugar plantation. And they would play with other people that they worked with, the Portuguese, the Americans, and it was sort of a way for them to assimilate into their new country.
The first all-Japanese American team that formed in Hawaii was in 1899. And the first all-Japanese team on the mainland was the San Francisco Fuji Athletic Club that was formed in 1903. And so, in the 1920s and the 1930s, any Japanese American community on the West Coast had semi-pro baseball leagues, and they were only allowed to play among themselves. So that was pretty much the height of Japanese American baseball leagues. There were hundreds of leagues and teams playing.
Daniel: Wow. And so, when the camps were set up, baseball kind of came along for the ride.
Ng: Exactly. And a lot of the semi-pro baseball players were interned at the internment camp as well. So they came along with their fan base, and almost as soon as the camps opened, they started building baseball diamonds. And at Manzanar, there were ten baseball and softball fields, and there were about 120 [teams] that played year-round.
Daniel: My goodness. Can you tell me what role baseball played in the camp and within the community?
Kwong: So Manzanar becomes this little town, and people set about building community. How can we do the things that we love? At first, any expression of Japanese culture was forbidden. You couldn’t do Japanese folk dance, you couldn’t do Japanese music, you couldn’t do Japanese language, you couldn’t do Japanese martial arts. And as time went by, those restrictions were lifted. And people were allowed to do this because one thing the government realized was like, “How do we keep these people from going nuts? How do we keep them pacified? How do we keep morale up? OK, we’ve got to let them do certain things, right?”
And so, they began replicating many things of a normal community. So they had music. There was a big band created among the musicians. There were doctors, there were teachers, there were chemists. And all these people began to try and practice what they were trained to do.
And sports—sports was a big part of every camp.
Baseball played a few different functions in camp. One, it was a piece of their normal life that they were allowed to keep. Two, it gave them something to do in the face of crushing boredom. And then three, perhaps most profoundly, it was symbolic of being American. It was claiming American culture: “This is ours.” So it had all of this meaning to people on all these different levels, and hundreds, even a thousand people would show up to watch a baseball game.
Daniel: It’s interesting to me that in the midst of, one could say, the mistreatment, the difficult nature in which this community was being treated at these camps by the United States government, that this element of being American was still so important.
Kwong: Well, you know, you had many different reactions within the community to the incarceration experience. There were people who said, “This is outrageous. Screw this.” And then you had, “We’re here. And we know we’re Americans. Our country has rejected us, but we are not rejecting our country.” And I have letters written by my Japanese grandfather in which he states that, “I love this country. This is my home. I came from Japan, but this is my home. I love America. I want to go back to my home, L.A.” He never turned his back on the United States, even though it did that to him. And that was not an unusual reaction.
Ng: When the war was over, they slowly started releasing the internees, gave them a few bucks and a bus ticket, and sent them out. And they finally closed the doors in 1945.
Daniel: In the intervening decades, the U.S. government all but destroyed Manzanar.
Ng: When the camps were closed after the war, they basically tore everything down. They tore down the barracks, they tore down the recreational buildings, the schools, the guard towers, the baseball fields. They were all torn down. And they really wanted to close the chapter of that history, and they just wanted it to return to the desert and be forgotten.
Daniel: So they razed it down, erasing it from view.
Ng: Yes. Pretty much everything was gone except there was a white obelisk in memorial of the people who had passed there. And then I believe the auditorium was still there, but everything else was completely razed.
When Manzanar closed, a lot of the people who had left the camp, they were like, “We’re never coming back.” But over the years, some of the internees started going back just to remember to clean the graves in the cemetery and for prayer. And during the early ’70s, the Vietnam War was going on, and the anti-Vietnam War movement actually spurred a new generation of Japanese Americans, who were either interned there or their families were interned there, to revisit what happened to them during their war, because there was the parallels of being Asian and being othered during the wartime and being viewed in suspicion. So they started going back there more officially as an annual pilgrimage.
Kwong: I was visiting Manzanar from when I was about 12 years old or so, because my Uncle Aiji would take us on fishing trips up in that area near Bishop. And in those days, the highway ran right past the camp. And so sometimes we’d stop and get out and tromp around. There was nothing left there but ruins and two stone century huts, the cemetery monument, and what used to be the high school auditorium. But in those days, it was being used as storage by the county.
Daniel: As Dan grew up, he also developed a love of baseball. His dad got him a bat and glove when he was 6, and he still has them today.
Kwong: We grew up a couple miles from Dodger Stadium. I, of course, fell in love with the Dodgers. They were my team. And by the time I was a teenager, I lived and died by the results in the sports page. Did they win or not? Or listening to Vin Scully on the radio. And at one point, that was my dream. I wanted to play center field for the Dodgers.
Daniel: Is that right?
Kwong: Yeah. And in high school, that was the crushing realization, like, “You’re good, but you’re not that good.”
Daniel: You’re not Dodgers good.
Kwong: Not Dodgers good. I was a good athlete. And so, as I was just graduating from junior high school, I was recruited by a Japanese American family down the street to join this team in a Japanese American league. The team was the Hollywood Dodgers. We were quite bad, but that was my first taste of organized ball. I was kind of late. I didn’t play Little League or anything. There was nothing in my neighborhood. So I was 15 when I started playing organized ball, and that was in the Japanese American league.
And then I moved up the next year to the Little Tokyo Giants in the NAU, the Nisei Athletic Union, and this was the adult league throughout Southern California. So in 1971, I joined the Little Tokyo Giants as a teenager and was playing against men. I was completely overmatched. The coach of my first team, the Hollywood Dodgers, was a member of the Little Tokyo Giants. And that’s how I got recruited onto that team. My coach, Bobby Umemoto, in 1969 is still my coach today.
Daniel: Get out of here.
Kwong: This year, assuming my body holds up, will be my 54th year with the team.
Daniel: Meanwhile, members of the Japanese American community started to push for national recognition of Manzanar.
Ng: In 1992, Manzanar was established as a historic site. It just started with placards and monuments. And then, slowly with fundraising and with volunteers that they were able to rebuild structure by structure. And then about ten years later, the auditorium was converted to a visitor center. And then they brought in replicas of the mess hall, the barracks, the guard towers. And then, over the years, the volunteers came in and they started refurbishing the Japanese gardens. And then a few years ago, they resurrected the basketball court in there.
Daniel: Two years ago, Dan and a few others associated with his baseball league received an email from an archeologist working at Manzanar.
Kwong: And he said, “Hey, folks, we’re going to start restoring the baseball field.” And I was like, “What? Oh, my God.” So I volunteered. That was Memorial Day weekend in 2023. And I went out there, and they had us just pulling weeds mainly. But I was very excited about this idea because I had always wanted to see the baseball field restored.
Daniel: How come?
Kwong: To me, it represented this convergence of all these things that were important to me. I love baseball. Manzanar has been a part of my life since childhood. And so the idea of combining those two interests and passions and concerns in one project just seemed like I was meant for this.
You need to know, Manzanar has a very small staff, and all of their restoration projects are dependent on volunteers to do the work. The garden, the mess hall barracks, all these other things they’ve restored are all volunteer-driven.
So it started in May of 2023. I went out there, I pulled some weeds. And while I was out there, I hatched this idea of, “OK, a doubleheader.” And the morning game will be a Little Tokyo Giants versus Lodi. The afternoon game will be an all-star game between North and South, because we do that every year, every September Labor Day, we have a state championship tournament, Northern Cal and Southern Cal. I know all the teams. I know the managers. I was like, “I could make this happen.” So that kind of launched the idea for the doubleheader. But in the meantime, we had to build this field.
Daniel: Just that.
Kwong: Yeah.
Daniel: Dan has gone all-in on this project over the past two years.
Kwong: I was driving to Manzanar every single week. I would drive up on a Monday, I’d get up at 4 o'clock, drive out there and work, and usually come home on a Thursday, wash my filthy clothes and go back the next Monday. It was not unusual for me to put in a 12-hour day out there. It completely took over my life. And there were many obstacles.
Daniel: Obstacles like tumbleweeds.
Kwong: It’s Russian thistle, technically. Russian thistle has millions of tiny needle-sharp stickers all over it. And we had to clear this all with hand tools.
Daniel: No.
Kwong: With shovels and rakes and hoes. It was horrible. It was horrible work. And looking back on it, it’s hard to believe that we did it. I mean, we ran out of places to put the tumbleweed that we were clearing. So we just started stacking it up in piles and rows. And these piles were like ten feet high, going on rows a hundred feet long. It was amazing.
Daniel: How many people were there?
Kwong: We had 27 people working like dogs. And you know what was interesting? As horrible, unpleasant, miserable this work was, people had the most wonderful spirit. Whole families came, and these weren’t all Japanese Americans. They were Caucasian folks. They were people of other cultures but who just cared about this story. And so they showed up.
And for example, I remember on the first day, at a certain point late morning, I said, “OK, let’s take a break, 15-minute break, everybody.” Nobody would stop. At the end of the day, people were thanking me. They were saying, “Thank you.” You could see what it meant to people. You could see that they wanted to be part of this story. They wanted to participate. They wanted to do something that honored this history. It was really moving.
Daniel: With the tumbleweeds piled and the field cleared, Dan and his group of mighty volunteers began turning this patch of land back into a baseball diamond. He again found that people were excited to pitch in.
Kwong: We had a couple guys who came up. One of them is a baseball player. They worked for the Major League Baseball Youth Academy down here in Southern California, and they volunteered on their off time to come up and rebuild the pitcher’s mound. And they got clay soil donated from a company that provides the Major Leagues with infield.
Daniel: Incredible.
Kwong: A ton and a half of dirt, they brought up, and they rebuilt the pitcher’s mound and the home plate circle so that you would have a good surface to stand on.
Daniel: They were guided by the archival photographs taken by Toyo Miyatake, the man once incarcerated at Manzanar, as well as those of Ansel Adams, who had photographed the camp when it was still operational.
Kwong: For the all-star game, I wanted the players to be wearing vintage 1940-style uniforms. So I found a small company in Connecticut, K&P Weavers. It’s kind of a mom and pop organization. And they specialized in vintage uniforms. So I had them create custom uniforms for the all-star game that were the old 1940s baggy pants and baggy sleeves style.
Oh, this was an amazing find. There’s a prop house in North Hollywood called History for Hire that specializes in vintage props for film and television. Well, I contacted them and told them about our project, and they fell in love with it. They said, “Oh, my God, this is wonderful. We love this idea. How can we help?” I said, “Well, I’d like to get some old 1940s-style baseball gloves and equipment for the doubleheader.” And they said, “Whatever you want.”
Daniel: What a California story.
Kwong: Yes. Oh, History for Hire did props for Field of Dreams, A League of Their Own, 42.
Daniel: How incredible.
Kwong: Some of the most iconic baseball movies ever made, they did props for them. They’re just wonderful people. So they said, “You just tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you.” They gave us two dozen baseball gloves. They gave us vintage catcher’s equipment. They gave us a vintage line-chalker for making the foul lines in the batter’s box. They gave us a pitcher’s rubber. All kinds of equipment, they just gave us to use for free.
Daniel: Amazing.
Kwong: So again, this amazing response that we got from people who heard about us and saw that, “Oh, my God, this is a beautiful project. How can we help?”
Daniel: Dan is looking forward to seeing all these efforts come together for the all-star game this fall. It’ll be the grand opening of the baseball field. Late last year, he staged a soft opening with just a few players and volunteers. The event was a huge success, and Dan is looking forward to more.
So, Dan, can you tell me what is it going to mean to you and others to play on that field?
Kwong: The bottom-line purpose of this for me is to use baseball, the game of baseball, to bring attention to this story, this piece of history. It’s virtually unknown outside the West Coast. People have no idea. “Really? What happened to Japanese Americans?” They have no clue. So my most fundamental goal was to use baseball to bring attention to this history on a wider scale from people who ordinarily would not be interested and to see, of course, how this history resonates with what’s happening today in this country. This idea of interning people, putting people away, is once again in our national consciousness.
The other purpose of this baseball field and baseball game is for the Japanese American community itself, for the baseball players, for us, and to honor the spirit of our ancestors, that this baseball field, it represents unbreakable spirit. It represents a will to thrive and flourish no matter what conditions you are put under.
It represents our love of baseball, our love of this game and this sport, which is so quintessentially American. When you’re standing out on that field, wearing that old-fashioned uniform, oh, you feel something. You feel something. Suddenly, you become your grandfather or your great-grandfather, and one can imagine, “Wow, what would it be like if I had to live here for three years?”
Daniel: Dan, what do you think your mom would say if she could be there?
Kwong: God, I wish my mom could have lived to have seen this. She passed in 2010. My mom would’ve been utterly delighted. She would’ve been so delighted to see this happening. I know she would’ve been proud. I wish all of my mother’s family could have been there—my grandfather, my uncles, my grandmother, I wish they all could have been there. I kept saying that to people, “If only my family were here to see this.” And people would say, “Oh, they’re watching. They’re watching you right now. They’re looking down on you, and they are smiling.”
And I tried to carry that inside of me, that they were with me, that while I’d be out there with my face in the dirt digging a hole and working with rebar and cement, that my mother was watching, and that they were pleased and proud that we were doing what we were doing. That’s a lovely image I try to carry inside of me.
Daniel: Dan, thank you so much. That was gorgeous. And I’m so happy for you and your community to play that game in such an important place.
Kwong: Thank you. Thank you.
Daniel: Thank you.
Kwong: My pleasure.
Daniel: To read Rachel’s reporting about Manzanar and to see the restoration effort of Dan and his fellow volunteers, head over to SmithsonianMag.com. We’ll also put a link in our show notes.
If you’re enjoying “There’s More To That,” thank you. We’re really glad you’re listening. You can help others find our show by leaving us a rating and review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, the iHeartRadio app and wherever you get your podcasts. We’d really appreciate it.
From the magazine, our team is me, Debra Rosenberg and Brian Wolly. From PRX, our team is Jessica Miller, Genevieve Sponsler, Adriana Rozas Rivera, Sandra Lopez-Monsalve and Edwin Ochoa. The executive producer of PRX Productions is Jocelyn Gonzales.
Our episode artwork is by Emily Lankiewicz. Fact-checking by Stephanie Abramson. Our music is from APM Music.
I’m Ari Daniel. Thanks for listening.
I can’t wait for my first-grade son to listen to this episode. We just signed him up for baseball.
