Righting Past Wrongs: Minidoka Nat'l Historic Site 8/12/12

Here's to lowered expectations. As so much in life is trying desperately to put on a happy face after having one's dreams dashed against the rocks of reality, any opportunity to rise above the perils of pessimism is one worth taking. Whether the road is love, work, or the latest movie from a favorite director, playing it safe is often the only way to avoid crushing disappointment. No surprise, then, that once we landed safely in the arms of the Minidoka National Historic Site near Jerome, ID, we were blissfully transported; not so much by the scar of shame the park unit so righteously highlights, but the notion that if you arrive with a shrug, you can leave with a smile. Led to believe Minidoka was but a single, unimpressive stop in an otherwise forgettable experience, we couldn't help but explode with excitement as the encounter proved to be the exact opposite. Sure, Minidoka is still a work-in-progress, with much-needed funds on the way, but at this moment in time, it's an embarrassment of riches for the historically minded. Here, amidst barren, windswept farmland, lies a reminder that for all the talk of exceptionalism and freedom, America has often gotten it wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

For the uninformed, Minidoka (the 385th NPS unit, designated in 2001), preserves some of the 33,000-acre site that once housed 13,000 internees from Alaska, Oregon, and Washington. In operation from August 1942 until October 1945, the site - also known as "Hunt Camp" - forcibly detained American citizens of Japanese descent (Nisei), as well as resident non-citizens (Issei), during World War II not because they were spies, saboteurs, or even lawbreakers of any kind, but rather because, as "potential" enemies, they were easily classified as "the Other." In sum, these men, women, and children - loyal, law-abiding, and otherwise peaceful - were stripped of their businesses, homes, and, above all, Constitutional rights, all for the sole reason that the powers that be - yes, FDR, we're looking at you - were soaked in fear, racism, and despicable bigotry. It was one of America's most shameful episodes, and proves conclusively that when the chips are down, even the mighty United States can act like a tyrannical bully. But as heinous as Executive Order 9066 was (and should always remain in our memory), it is a testament to our tendency to make amends that this site exists at all. Unlike so many - Japan included, which still can't utter the word 'Nanking' in public - we usually recognize error and try to set things right. Perhaps a National Historic Site means little to the families of those brought here against their will, but I for one can tip my cap to lessons learned. If anything, a place like Minidoka ensures that at all costs, a similar site will never be erected again. One can hope.

Thanks to a detailed park brochure (available at nearby Hagerman Fossil Beds NM), as well as newly installed exhibit panels, visitors can learn that while Minidoka was hardly a camp on par with the death houses of Europe (as if losing one's civil rights is an acceptable alternative), it was a sad, sinister place, as most was far from completed by the time internees arrived. In 1942, the sewage system had not yet been constructed, and for most, there was no hot running water. Residential blocks - complete with schools, fire stations, shops, and a hospital - were spared all expense, often consisting of hastily built barracks that were "little more than wooden frames covered with tarpaper." With winter temperatures sometimes dipping as low as -21 degrees, over 100 tons of coal a day were needed to keep the buildings even remotely hospitable. Still, no one confused Minidoka for a resort. It was hard, inhumane living, with guns and barbed wire to remind the "guests" that regardless of how bad things got, they were never allowed to leave.

Camps, needless to say, were segregated based on a ridiculous "loyalty questionnaire", which essentially asked whether or not an internee would be willing to serve in the armed forces. One might find such a question insulting on its face, given that few could be blamed for being less than enthusiastic about wanting to defend a country that treated them as prisoners, but it served to "weed out" those destined for Tule Lake, CA, the home for the dissenters (known as "No-No's"). As if to rightfully rub our collective noses in the madness of racism, Minidoka proudly displays an Honor Roll of internees who did serve their country. In fact, Minidoka had the highest number of volunteers (around 1,000) of the ten relocation centers across the country, 73 of whom died in battle. More than most, they deserve our respect and devotion for risking their lives for a country that despised them. We should all have such a sense of duty.

Minidoka NHS features a 1.6 mile loop trail that winds around the former locations of the staff housing, administrative area, root cellar, and Barracks Block 22. It's a somber, reflective walk, and it will only get better in the years ahead. Recently, the park submitted a $3.7 million proposal for a visitor center in the historic warehouse building. No longer forced to share space at Hagerman's already cramped VC, the revamped structure should allow for additional interpretation and preservation of memories (it's expected that Minidoka, like Manzanar, will emphasize the words of former internees). In addition, further stabilization and rehabilitation will continue, as newly added acreage fleshes out the larger story of the camp. Still, despite the current minimalism, the site's power is maintained largely through the sense of isolation one feels on this lonely spot in the middle of nowhere. In many ways, it could easily be 1943 all over again, with little by way of modernity to inrtrude on the solemn proceedings.

If the trails and sparse buildings - along with a 1945 replica fence - aren't enough to satisfy your historical curiosity, keep in mind again that Hagerman's VC tries its best with a "Minidoka Corner" of artifacts, pictures, and a timeline. Far from complete, it's a reasonable solution until the new VC is completed on-site. On that day, a second visit will be warranted, which is a rare thing to say about many of the Idaho NPS offerings. And here's to more farmland being acquired, though it stands to reason that many in the area would rather forget the scars of the past, and they just might hang on to keep the demons at bay. But for us, Minidoka NHS made the whole thing worthwhile, pushing aside those smoke-filled skies for at least an afternoon and reminding us that above all, the NPS has the power to change minds. Hearts might be harder to come by, but it won't be for lack of effort.

FINAL RATING

9/10