THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF GARDENS IN JAPANESE AMERICAN INCARCERATION CAMPS
A Thesis submitted to the faculty of AS San Francisco State University In partial fulfillment of 3 G the requirements for the Degree ANTVt
* 0^3 Master of Arts
In
Anthropology
by
Koji Harris Ozawa
San Francisco, California
May 2016 Copyright by Koji Harris Ozawa 2016 CERTIFICATION OF APPROVAL
I certify that I have read The Archaeology of Gardens in Japanese American Incarceration Camps by Koji Harris Ozawa, and that in my opinion this work meets the criteria for approving a thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the degree Masters of Art in Anthropology at San Francisco State University.
Peter Biella, Ph.D. Professor THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF GARDENS IN JAPANESE AMERICAN INCARCERATION CAMPS
Koji Harris Ozawa San Francisco, California 2016
In 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed executive order 9066, removing all people of Japanese ancestry from the West Coast and imprisoning them within incarceration camps. Recent work has studied the remains of gardens at the camps of Manzanar in Southern California, Minidoka in Idaho and Amache in Colorado. However, little research has been undertaken at the Gila River incarceration camp, located just south of Phoenix, Arizona. My research seeks to address this hole within our exploration of one of the most egregious constitutional violations of the last century. By exploring the archaeology of gardens constructed by the incarcerees, greater light and attention will be brought to the fortitude and resilience of the Japanese Americans imprisoned in the desert as well as the strategies employed by them to cope with their incarceration. Within the context of contested transnational identities, the creation of garden ponds was multifaceted strategy. These garden ponds served to re-territorialize the camp spaces and negotiate the inherent problem of being “Japanese”-American in camps focused on Americanization.
s a correct representation of the content of this thesis.
Date ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are many people without which this thesis would not be possible. Funding for this research was provided in part by the Kiana Dressendorfer Scholarship. I would like to acknowledge my advisor Doug Bailey, who guided my research and helped with the development of this project and Jim Quesada and Peter Biella as well as all the Anthropology Faculty at San Francisco State. Professor Christen Sasaki for her guidance in Asian American Studies and Professor Lane Hirabayshi, for indulging my curiosity. My fellow archaeology students, Garrett Trask, Suzanne Ubick and Dave Daly for years of encouragement. Professor Stacey Camp and Laura Ng for a decade of support. Laura Jones who I cannot thank enough for all of the opportunities over the years and all of the people at Stanford who supported my research including Katie Turner, Tim Wilcox, Carol Porter, Fanya Becks and Lindsay Montgomery. Kyle Woodson, Wesley Miles and all of the Gila River Indian Community Cultural Resource Management Program for helping me immensely in my fieldwork. Jeff Burton of the National Parks Service for his gracious help and Ted Namba of the JACL for his testimonial. I would like to thank my grandmother, Shigeko Elizabeth Ozawa and my aunt Francis Kuramoto as well as Ken Hayashi, Yosh Nakamura, Tok Yoshihashi and Ed Takeda for sharing their lives with me. I would also like to acknowledge the numerous curators and staff at the many archives I utilized including the Bancroft Library of Berkeley, the National Archives, the Asian American Comparative Collection of the University of Idaho, the Japanese American National Museum and the Japanese American Museum of San Jose. Finally I would like to thank my partner Wendy Lau for her patience over the past two years and my family for their inexhaustible support. My mother who worked tirelessly to give me the opportunities that led me here and my father in whose memory I wrote.
v TABLE OF CONTENTS
List of Tables...... ix
List of Figures...... x
List of Appendices...... xiv
Chapter 1- Introduction...... 1
1.2-Terminolog y ...... 3
1.3-Gardens in Archaeology...... 5
1.4-Oral Histories...... 7
1.5-The Structure of this Thesis...... 8
Chapter 2-Historical Context...... 10
2.1 Japanese Migration...... 10
2.2 Reactionary Policies...... 13
2.3 Years leading to Incarceration...... 16
2.4 Conclusion...... 19
Chapter 3-The Archaeology of Incarceration...... 21
3.1 Incarceration Archaeology...... 21
3.2 Japanese American Incarceration Sites...... 24
3.3 Gardens at Manzanar...... 28
3.4 Gardens at Amache...... 31
3.5-Conclusio n ...... 34 Chapter 4- Gila River...... 35
4.1 Introduction...... 35
4.2 Archaeology at Gila River...... 39
4.3 An Archaeological Survey of Garden Ponds...... 41
4.4 Survey Results...... 44
Block 55...... 44
Block 56...... 48
Block 57...... 52
Block 58...... 59
Block 59...... 65
Block 60...... 70
Block 61...... 73
Block 63...... 81
Block 64...... 95
Block 65...... 97
Block 66...... 100
Block 72...... 109
Block 73...... 116
Block 74...... 118
4.5- Summary...... 122
Chapter 5- Analysis of Gardens...... 125
5.1 Garden Construction...... 125
5.2 Gardens Placement...... 131
5.3 Garden Design...... 135 5.4 Garden Interactions...... 137
5.5- Conclusion...... 145
Chapter 6- Interpreting Gardens...... 146
6.1- Gardens and Individuals...... 147
6.2 Gardens and Blocks...... 152
6.3 Gardens and the Gila River Incarceration Camp...... 155
6.4-Conclusion 162
Chapter 7- Conclusion...... 164
Bibliography...... 169
APPENDIX 1: Photo Permissions...... 182
APPENDIX 2: IRB Exception Notice...... 183
APPENDIX 3: Oral History Consent Forms...... 184
viii LIST OF TABLES
Table Page
1. Table Summarizing Survey Results for Blocks 55 Through 61...... 123 2. Table Summarizing Survey Results for Blocks 63 Through 74...... 124 3. Table Showing the Number of Different Types of Gardens...... 131 4. Table Showing the Positon of Garden Ponds...... 132 LIST OF FIGURES
Figures Page
1. The Typical Block Structure at Butte Camp...... 37 2. Overview Map of Butte Camp...... 43 3. Pond 22...... 44 4. Pond 23...... 45 5. Pond 24...... 46 6. Planview of Block 55...... 47 7. Pond 34...... 48 8. Pond 35...... 49 9. Pond 36...... 50 10. Planview of Block 56...... 51 11. Pond 28...... 52 12. Pond 29...... 53 13. Pond 30...... 54 14. Pond 31...... 55 15. Pond 32...... 56 16. Pond 33...... 57 17. Planview of Block 57...... 58 18. Pond 38...... 59 19. Pond 39...... 60 20. Pond 40...... 61 21. Pond 41...... 62 22. Pond 43...... 63
x 23. Planview of Block 58...... 64 24. Pond 8...... 65 25. Pond 9...... 66 26. Pond 10...... 67 27. Pond 42...... 68 28. Planview of Block 59...... 69 29. Pond 6...... 70 30. Pond 7...... 71 31. Planview of Block 60...... 72 32. Pond 1...... 73 33. Pond 2...... 74 34. Pond 3...... 75 35. Pond 4...... 76 36. Pond 5...... 77 37. Pond 53...... 78 38. Pond 54...... 79 39. Planview of Block 61...... 80 40. Pond 11...... 81 41. Pond 12...... 82 42. Pond 13...... 83 43. Pond 14...... 84 44. Pond 44...... 85 45. Pond 45...... 86 46. Pond 46...... 87 47. Pond 47...... 88 48. Pond 48...... 89 49. Pond 49...... 90
xi 50. Pond 50...... 91 51. Pond 51...... 92 52. Pond 52...... 93 53. Planview of Block 63...... 94 54. Pond 15...... 95 55. Planview of Block 64...... 96 56. Pond 16...... 97 57. Pond 17...... 98 58. Planview of Block 65...... 99 59. Pond 18...... 100 60. Pond 19...... 101 61. Pond 20...... 102 62. Pond 21...... 103 63. Pond 25...... 104 64. Pond 26...... 105 65. Pond 27...... 106 66. Pond 37...... 107 67. Planview of Block 66...... 108 68. Pond 55...... 109 69. Pond 56...... 110 70. Pond 57...... I l l 71. Pond 58...... 112 72. Pond 59...... 113 73. Pond 60...... 114 74. Planview of Block 72...... 115 75. Pond 61...... 116 76. Planview of Block 73...... 117
xii 77. Pond 62...... 118 78. Pond 63...... 119 79. Pond 64...... 120 80. Planview of Block 74...... 121 81. Cactus Garden outside Barracks at Gila River...... 126 82. Pond 16 with Saguaro Cactus...... 127 83. Burt, Raymond and Mary Doi in front of their Barracks...... 128 84. Granite, Schist, Quartz and River Cobbles...... 128 85. Two Examples of Concrete Utilized at Gila River...... 129 86. Pond 27 with Highly Fractured and Fragmented Structure...... 130 87. Map of Block 66, Barracks 3...... 133 88. Map of Block 63, Barracks 8...... 133 89. Map of Block 66, Barracks 9...... 134 90. Gila River Toy and Game Loan...... 137 91. A Variety of Trees and Plants Visible Surrounding a Barracks Garden...... 138 92. A Modified Can...... 139 93. Wall of Pond 8...... 140 94. Marble found in Pond 11...... 142 95. Footprint of a Child...... 142 96. Photograph of Francis Kuramoto Sitting in front of Her Barracks...... 143 97. Barrack’s Footing Incorporated Into an Island in the Center of Pond 1...... 144 98. Barrack’s Footing Incorporated Into an Island in the Center of Pond 8...... 144
xiii LIST OF APPENDICES
Appendix Page
1. Copyrights and Permissions...... 182 2. IRB Exception Notice...... 183 3. Oral History Forms...... 184
xiv 1
Chapter 1- Introduction And in my dreams I walk along the birch- Lined autumn stream. Reflected there the cloud-dressed sky, And red leaves’ ruddy gleam. That was California in September
But the desert now is my home. I breathe its dusty air and blister in Its lights. I sleep beneath those lonely stars And voices of the night But I remember—remember -I Remember by Tokiko Inouye (News-Courier May 18, 1943:6)
In 1941, Tokiko Inouye was a 16 year old girl living in Ventura County in southern California. She was Nisei, or second generation Japanese American, bom in the United States. Tokiko’s father was a farm laborer, and though his daughter had never been to Japan, her fate was about to be inextricably tied to the actions of that nation (National Archives and Records Administration [NARA] 1989). On December 7 th of that year, Japan launched an attack on Pearl Harbor, causing the United States to declare war shortly thereafter. Two months later on February 19th, 1942 President Franklin Roosevelt signed executive order 9066, creating a military exclusion zone along the western coast of the United States. This led to the mass incarceration of “all peoples of Japanese ancestry” without any accusations of criminal acts (CWRIC 1983:6). Ten incarceration camps were erected across the United States, two in California (Manzanar and Tule Lake), two in Arizona (Poston and Gila River), two in Arkansas (Jerome and Rowher), and one each in Utah (Topaz), Colorado (Amache), Idaho (Minidoka), and Wyoming (Heart Mountain).Tokiko and her family were given only a short amount of time to pack all of their belongings into a few suitcases. They were first taken to the Tulare fairground in eastern California, where they would have stayed from a couple of weeks to several 2
months (NARA 1989). Tulare was hastily converted into a place to hold people, with overcrowded barracks and unfinished latrines open for the public to see (Egami 1995:27). Eventually the family would have been taken by train to Gila River in the southern Arizona desert. Gila was hot, dusty, and barren when people arrived. Some barracks were partially constructed; those that were finished only had a cot inside with no other furnishings (Nakamura 2015). It was there, a little more than a year after the signing of the executive order that she composed the poem I Remember while imprisoned in the desert camp. Tokiko’s journey from the birch-lined streams of California to the blistering sun of the Arizona desert was shared by more than 13,000 Japanese Americans. Over 110,000 people were forcibly removed from their homes and placed into incarceration camps. In 1983 a Commission on the Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians (CWRIC) found that the mass incarceration was not justified by military necessity and further that it was motivated by racism, hysteria and failure of political leadership (CWRIC 1983:5). Many of these people’s stories were never told. For some the memories of camp were traumatizing. They faced the decades following their incarceration with silence, focusing on the future (Murray 2008:198). Lise Yasui recounts in her documentary Family Gathering how events associated with her family’s experience were for years simply never discussed (Yasui and Tegnell 1988). For others, the incarceration experience created rifts in the social fabric of their communities. Protestors, draft resisters and conscientious objectors were ostracized from the wider Japanese American society during the incarceration and in subsequent years (Farrell and Burton 2011:104). Emiko Omori’s Rabbit in the Moon, describes the pain and betrayal many felt, causing some to renounce their citizenship and others to cut themselves off from the Japanese American community (Omori 2004). Many of the stories of the incarcerated people remain hidden in the past. Others persist, waiting to be told. Gardens constructed inside of the incarceration camps are one 3
facet of the Japanese American experience. Reports of gardens constructed by incarcerees appear from all 10 of the camps. The Gila River Incarceration Camp, where Tokiko and her family were held during the war, had one of the largest numbers of gardens (Burton et al. 1999:16). It was also where my own family, including my grandparents, their nine year old daughter, and their one year old son were incarcerated. Until this project, only a small amount of archaeological research had taken place there, with no extensive analysis of the remains of gardens at the camp. This thesis then begins an exploration of gardens at Gila River. I present in the following chapters a systematic survey and documentation of garden features in a section of the Gila River camp. I supplement this data with archival materials and oral histories in order to better contextualize gardens within the lives of the incarcerated people. Furthermore I situate the interpretations of these features within a diachronic consideration of Japanese American history. Through a combination of archaeological, historical, archival and oral historical research, a more thorough understanding of these features can be reached. The work done at Gila does not embody a complete record of the camp but rather a place to begin further exploration. The archaeological material present at Gila River represents an important resource for understanding the Japanese American population within the camp, and the diversity of the community. Its density and preservation are unique. The work at Gila River reveals that gardens are complex and multifaceted entities. They were constructed in part as ways to find physical and spiritual relief from the conditions of desert imprisonment. My analysis shows that gardens held diverse meanings for incarcerees and were often sites of contested politics.
1.2-Terminology The terminology used to describe the camps and the incarceration experience is important. During the time of the camps operation, the United States government used euphemistic language such as “evacuation” and “relocation camp.” The Gila River 4
Incarceration Camp was known as the Rivers Relocation Center during its operation. Similar names were given to the other nine camps administered by the War Relocation Authority (WRA). The use of these terms masks the reality of the situation. The word “evacuation” is more appropriate to disasters or refugees. Japanese Americans were forcibly removed from their homes, not for their own protection, but for fundamentally racist beliefs. Similarly the term “internment” is often used to describe the incarceration camps. This is an inaccurate term. Internment refers to a specific legal understanding of enemy aliens legally detained in a time of war (Daniels 2005:184). Many Japanese Americans were interned in these camps such as Kooskia in Idaho or Crystal City in Texas. As such they benefitted from a variety of legal rights under the 1929 Geneva Convention (Daniels 2005:186). However those imprisoned in the WRA camps were not considered internees, and therefore unable to sue for such rights. The terms “concentration camp” or “incarceration camp” more accurately describe this situation. The Japanese American National Museum (JANM) adopted this language in a 1998 exhibit titled America's Concentration Camps: Remembering the Japanese American Experience. When bringing this exhibit to Ellis Island, JANM was met with serious opposition for the use of the term “concentration camp,” by Jewish groups who associated it with the Nazi death camps of the Holocaust. This instigated a meeting between Jewish and Japanese American leaders after which it was agreed that “concentration camp” correctly described forced imprisonment of people solely based on their identity (JANM 1998). The Japanese American Citizens League (JACL), the largest Asian American civil rights organization in the United States, has published a handbook adopting more accurate language titled Power of Words Handbook (Japanese American Citizens League 2013). Following its lead I use of the term “incarceration camp” in lieu of “internment camp” or “relocation center.” I have chosen to call the Rivers Relocation Center the Gila River Incarceration Camp. I also utilize words such as “exclusion” and “forced removal” 5
rather than “evacuation.” It is important that accurate language is used in descriptions of this event. Euphemistic language only obfuscates the past and supports apologist narratives. The first step in moving towards a thorough understanding of an event like the incarceration is the use of truthful terminology.
1.3-Gardens in Archaeology The archaeological documentation of gardens has become a common practice i.|_ since the mid-20 century. This field was pioneered through the work of Wilhelmina Jashemski at Pompeii and Herculaneum (1963, 1964, 1967). The primary goal of this work was to discover and reconstruct Roman gardens through extremely delicate and detailed excavation (Jashemski 1963). Other archaeologists in the United Kingdom and the United States followed suit in the ensuing decades. Christopher Taylor in England utilized a variety of survey techniques to find and record gardens within larger landscapes (1973). Contemporaneously, William Kelso developed sampling strategies for the reconstruction of large estate gardens for comparison with the historical record in the eastern United States (1971, 1976). The research and development of these early studies laid the framework for further interpretive analysis of gardens. Mark Leone’s study of the William Paca Garden in Annapolis, Maryland provided the next step for garden archaeology. Leone carefully identified and mapped the Paca Garden revealing the use of perspective and geometry as critical factors in the garden’s design to embody power and project the designer’s ideology (Leone 1984:26). This reading of the garden was innovative not only for its meticulous reconstruction but for its interpretation of ideology. Consequently, increasingly nuanced understandings of gardens in the archaeological record have been reached. In Pennsylvania, archaeologists interpreted the garden of George Rapp as the creation of his own world view (De Cunzo et al. 1996:96). A thorough study of the garden layout and historical records revealed Rapp’s religiosity was exemplified in the garden’s design (De Cunzo et al. 1996:113). 6
The work of earlier garden archaeologists has been critiqued for focusing on primarily elite and powerful populations (Yentsh 1996:xxx). This focus on the upper echelons of society provides a narrow view of gardens in the archaeological record, privileging one narrative. Lydia Pulsipher’s (1994) work stands as an exception to this trend. She contended that the stylistically distinct gardens created by Caribbean slave populations was an expression of their cultural values and a strategy of resistance against Western styles of gardening forced upon them (Pulsipher 1994:220). Pulsipher provides an important counter perspective to that of elites. It instead looks to the disenfranchised segments of the population. Ian Hodder (1986:63) has pointed out that all those who interacted with gardens did not necessarily share a frame of reference and thus would read gardens differently. Hodder’s critique highlights the importance for a consideration of the multivocality of gardens. They cannot be tied only to the world view or ideology of the designers. Rather they must be read as holding multiple meanings. Different people may have designed, built, used and viewed the same garden. Finally it is important not to consider gardens as simply palimpsests on which people imposed their own views. Sociologist Michel Conan (2007:3) insists that gardens do not only reflect preferences and cultural ideologies but play active roles in creating them. Gardens are not passive scenery but instead active agents. He also notes that the experience of gardens must be interpreted from a phenomenological standpoint as movement through and experience in intimately shapes the relationship between gardens and those who interact with them (Conan 2003:6). Thus when interpreting gardens, they must be seen as part of dialectical relationships. They are complex features which led active lives, constantly shifting in meaning in relation to those that interacted with them. Within this theoretical conception, the study of gardens within the incarceration camps provides a unique look into the lives of Japanese Americans incarcerees. My analysis throughout this thesis will demonstrate the intricate web of relationships which surrounded gardens. It will join a growing body of literature on gardens at the Japanese 7
American incarceration camps (Tamura 2004; Helphand 2006; Dusselier 2009; Clark 2012; Beckwith 2013; Burton and Farrell 2014; Ng 2014; Camp and Ng 2015; Burton 2015; Garrison 2015). The survey of Gila River will provide new information from a site that has not yet been explored, allowing for further comparisons with other camps. It is essential to consider the diversity of the Japanese American population in any interpretations of gardens. I will focus on the multivocality of gardens and the heterogeneity of the Japanese American population. Few previous studies, with the exception of Ng (2014) have highlighted these aspects. They were places where people came together and places where people kept others out. They were enactments of the administration’s edicts and controls, and stood as defiant gestures. They were testaments to unequal access to materials and construction knowledge as well as unifying symbols of collective practice. My analysis seeks to understand the varying and occasionally contradictory qualities of gardens.
1.4-Oral Histories An important aspect of this work is its collection of oral histories that help understand life inside the incarceration camps. Alice Yang Murray has contended that oral histories are important to Asian American Studies as they provide insights to the connections between historical memory and constructions of identity (Murray 2008:10). When considering the prosaic realities of camp life, oral histories also add invaluable depth to research. They provide the perspectives of the people who lived in the camps and their perceptions. Furthermore, oral histories allow many incarcerees to have their story told. Although not all who lived through the camp experience wish to speak of the subject, many do. Several of the people I interviewed expressed their desire for their stories to help prevent the creation of unjust incarceration camps again. For this thesis project I utilize two sources of oral histories. The first includes sources which have been recorded previously. Previous projects have sought to record the 8
Japanese American experience (Hansen 1991; Densho 2016). In particular the Densho project which focuses on the history of the Japanese American Incarceration, has recorded many oral histories pertaining to camp life (Densho 2016). Several oral histories hosted in Densho's archives pertain to the Gila River Camp (Imagire 2008; Tsuchiya 2009; Momii 2011). Additionally for this project I conducted six oral historical interviews. Two of these were with members of my own family who were incarcerated at Gila River. My grandmother, Shigeko Elizabeth Ozawa who was 28 at outbreak of WWII, and her sister my aunt Francis Kuramoto who was seven years old. I also interviewed Ken Hayashi, seven at the time of incarceration and Ed Takeda, who was 12. Finally I interviewed two members of the 442nd battalion, Yosh Nakamura and Tok Yoshihashi. Yosh was 17 at the start of the war and Tok was 19. All of the people interviewed were forcibly removed from the Los Angeles area with the exception of Ed Takeda who lived in the San Jose area. Their stories add incredible value to a project like this, and without their help this would not have been possible.
1.5-The Structure of this Thesis In the remainder of this thesis I argue that gardens were highly contested places with multiple meanings. Chapter 2 presents an historical review of the Japanese American population leading up to the incarceration. I take a transnational approach to considering the population in order to understand the powerful forces acting upon Japanese Americans. By providing this historical context I argue that the incarcerees were drawn from a melange of different social, economic and political orientations, and that the internal dynamics of this community continued into the camps. Chapter 3 frames my project within the setting of incarceration archaeology. In doing so I will also discuss the archaeological work pertaining to gardens at the Manzanar and Amache camps. These examples will provide points of comparison for my analysis of the gardens at Gila River. Chapter 4 provides an introduction to the Gila River site as well as a brief consideration 9
of previous archaeological work there. I then present my survey results describing each garden feature, its composition and its position within the camp. Chapter 5 provides my initial analysis of the survey results. Using archival, oral historical and comparative sites, I discuss what the archaeological data can reveal about garden construction, placement design and interactions. Chapter 6 presents a multi-scalar analysis of gardens at Gila River. By examining the gardens within the context of three differing scales, the individual, the block and the camp, I demonstrate the multifaceted nature of gardens. The final chapter presents a brief discussion of the results at Gila River and proposes future directions of work. The analysis of the gardens presented here provides an initial look at the Gila River site and the potential for further exploration. The richness and abundance of material suggests that there is much still to be learned. 10
Chapter 2-Historical Context Although the primary focus of this research concerns gardens at the time of incarceration during WWII, the lives of many of the incarcerees started well before this time. The decision to incarcerate Japanese Americans was itself deeply entwined within the historical context of the early 20 th century. As such this chapter will briefly consider the history of Japanese Americans up to and including the mass removal and incarceration. This will in no way be an exhaustive treatment of the subject, but will provide a setting in which to better understand the environment in which gardens were constructed. As the vast majority of incarcerees at Gila River came from Southern and Central California, I will focus on the Japanese American experience in that state. First I will describe the initial wave of migration from Japan and some of the factors which pushed people to seek life elsewhere. I will then discuss the life of Japanese migrants in California, focusing on the work that people were able to obtain and the general condition of Japanese migrant communities. At this point it will be necessary to detail the reaction to Japanese migration into the United States and the trajectory of legislation which resulted. Finally I will describe the culmination of this history in the signing of Executive Order 9066 and the incarceration. In this way I will show that the incarceration was the product of a long historical trajectory and not solely a consequence of the historical situation of World War II. I will also demonstrate how this history affected the Japanese Americans and resulted in a complex milieu of transnational identities within the Japanese American community.
2.1 Japanese Migration The story of Japanese migration to the United States is often framed as the story of labor (Ichioka 1988:2). It is intimately tied to the fall of the Tokugawa era in Japan, the Meiji Restoration and the call for labor and rapid industrialization as capitalism swept across the globe between the 19th and 20th centuries. In this section I will outline some of 11
the factors which led to the migration of Japanese people to the United States, focusing on how these aspects influenced the nature of the population and the social experience of the migrants. In 1868, Emperor Meiji formed a new government in Japan, marking the end to an era of exclusion and the beginning of an era of mass imperial expansion and economic reform (Azuma 2005:18). By the 1880s migrants began leaving Japan, first in small numbers and eventually in fairly large cohorts (Azuma 2005:18). Eiichiro Azuma (2005:20) argues that three general principles guided Japanese migration: mercantile expansionism, Japanese-style manifest destiny and an ideology of striving and success. The first two of these factors, expansionism and manifest-destiny, were primarily the area of Japanese intelligentsia and elites who had both the resources and freedom to pursue such agendas (Azuma 2005:23). Some of the first waves of migrants were composed of students who worked and studied in the United States and of businessmen who would go on to develop contact labor systems to facilitate later groups (Ichioka 1988:8). While these philosophies drove some of the initial migration to the United States it would seem that only a relatively small portion of the overall population had motivations of expanding Japan’s influence and power through migration. The third line of discourse that Azuma highlights, an ideology of striving and success, appealed to a broader base in Japan. The rapid industrialization of Japan fundamentally altered the nature of the rural economy, replacing small farming operations with larger commercial agriculture enterprises and mechanized industrialization (Azuma 2005:27). Many Japanese people who left the country in the 1880s had seen an acute downturn in their economic circumstances during this time and thus felt that work abroad would provide better opportunities for themselves, their families and social networks (Azuma 2005:28). As time progressed and the wealth that the initial waves of migrants either returned with or sent back was seen, more entrepreneurial laborers began to emigrate from Japan in hopes 12
of tapping into these economic opportunities. Hawaii and the United States mainland were primary destinations as both areas required large numbers of low paid wage labor in order to fulfill agricultural and industrial development, especially after anti-Chinese immigration legislation produced a gap in the exploited labor force (Ichioka 1988:4; Takaki 1989:29). Economic forces, while an important aspect of the immigration movement from Japan, were not the only reason that people left the island nation. As Japan expanded its imperialist ambitions it required all men of a certain age to serve as soldiers. Many young men emigrated abroad to avoid conscription, often until they surpassed the age of 32 after which they had no more obligation to serve (Azuma 2005:30). Recently, scholars have begun to look at more complex issues regarding social stratification in regards to Japanese migration. Andrea Geiger in her work Subverting Exclusion (2011:2) notes that the social caste system from the Tokugawa era in Japan still had powerful implications for those of lower castes. While there was still some stratification in the major castes of Japan (samurai, farmers, artisans and merchants), those from the buraku jumin or outcaste group faced rampant discrimination and marginalization in the country (Geiger 2011:16). In order to escape this systemic exclusion, many of the buraku jumin immigrated to the United States, hoping to find more avenues of opportunity (Geiger 2011:193). It should be noted that migration geared towards greater economic opportunity was not restricted to men. It is often the case that women in migration history are observed in fairly secondary roles and especially as somewhat passive agents (Gee 1994:53). I argue that this was not the case, rather women were active agents in their migration history from Japan. In the early years of Japanese migration to the United States many of the women who undertook the journey were coerced by economic conditions or kidnapped and trafficked (Ichioka 1988:28). However by the time of the early 20th century, much larger numbers of Japanese women begin to immigrate, 13
primarily through the process of marriage as picture-brides (Ichioka 1988:165; Takaki 1989:47; Gee 1994:53). It would be unconscionable to reduce their identities to exclusively this role as brides. Many left Japan for exactly the same reasons as male migrants: economic opportunity, entrepreneurial spirit and nationalist expansionism (Gee 1994:54). Additionally, they played key roles in the growth of Japanese American society and the Japanese American workforce.
2.2 Reactionary Policies The large numbers of Japanese migrants who traveled to Hawaii and the United States triggered an extremely racist and nativist response, especially in California. This response by European-American dominated society in the United States had a profound impact on the development of Japanese American identity and the road leading up to the mass incarceration event. In this section I will outline some of the key responses in California to Japanese migration and their impacts on the community. It is appropriate at this time to refer to these peoples as Issei, the Japanese term for first generation migrants. It should be noted here that as Issei refers to the first generation, Nisei is the term for the second generation and Sansei for the third. It should also be noted that from their initial immigration into the United States, Issei were excluded from fully participating in civic life. The original tenants of naturalization to become a citizen written in 1790, restricted the privilege to “white individuals” with amendments made for those of “African nativity or descent,” in 1870 (Chuman 1976:66). Issei, much like the Chinese were considered to be “yellow” and therefore ineligible for citizenship, a point which would have continuous repercussions. Not long after the first waves of migrants arrived in the United States mainland, they began to face backlash from a variety of groups. The majority of laborers who made their way into California were vulnerable to exploitation by both European-American owned business as well as Japanese labor brokers (Ichioka 1988:83). They also faced 14
exclusion from the protective policies of labor unions as organizations such as the American Federation of Labor (AFL) pursued antagonistic policies towards migrants (Ichioka 1988:91). The policies fed on and exacerbated racial tensions from European- American laborers, presenting Issei workers (and Chinese workers before them) as posing a threat to their job security (Ichioka 1988:145). Exclusionary policies from various levels of government had a direct impact on the nature of Japanese migration. In 1906, the San Francisco city government, dominated by labor groups, passed a resolution to segregate Japanese schoolchildren from grammar schools (Chuman 1976:24). This launched a diplomatic crisis as the Issei community, which maintained strong ties to the Japanese government, lobbied against such policies. The Japanese government became increasingly agitated and in order to maintain friendly diplomatic relations, President Theodore Roosevelt brokered a deal often referred to as the “Gentlemen’s Agreement,” (Chuman 1976:33). The agreement effectively banned the issuance of passport visas to laborers departing from Japan and in response, the United States would not restrict Japanese migration (Chuman 1976:34). This agreement assuaged some of the local animosity towards Japanese migrants by insuring a reduction in their volume, while at the same time guaranteed the Japanese nation did not lose international standing by having its subject treated poorly abroad. It proved to be ultimately ineffective. Though the volume of migration temporarily decreased, within six years it swelled once more due to a loophole which allowed for family members, children and wives to travel to the United States (Chuman 1976:36). Thereafter, large numbers of Japanese women married their future husbands from afar through essentially marriage by correspondence and became known as picture-brides (Ichioka 1988:166-175). One of the major results of exclusion from unions and the gentleman’s agreement was a shift from wage based labor in industries such as mining and railroads towards agriculture (Ichioka 1988:150). Agricultural work offered a much more stable and sedentary lifestyle than wage labor did, and it allowed for Issei to better raise families 15
(Ichioka 1988:152). Consequently women’s presence as a major labor force also increased. Women who immigrated as picture-brides would often constitute an integral part to the rural economy working long hours on farms as well as primary caregivers to children (Takaki 1989:47; Matsumoto 1993:23; Gee 1994:58). Within a fairly short period of time, Issei farmers began to dominate the cultivation of fairly niche crops (Azuma 2005:64). Once more, racially charged anti-Japanese segments of the population in California spoke out, demanding that the government curb both the immigration of Japanese peoples and their economic success. In 1913, California enacted its first Alien Land Law, disallowing aliens ineligible for citizenship (i.e. Issei) from owning or leasing land for more than three years (Chuman 1976:46; Azuma 2005:65). This policy forced many Issei to find loopholes. Many pursued tenancy farming under European-American land owners, which resulted in essentially sharecropping (Azuma 2005:65). Others formed corporations with other Issei and managed land as associations (Azuma 2005:66). Those with families bought land under their children’s names as Nisei were granted iL citizenship by nature ofjus soli as guaranteed by the 14 Amendment and therefore allowed to own land (Azuma 2005:66). As Issei found ways around the 1913 law, a second Alien Land Law was passed in 1920 stipulating that aliens ineligible for citizenship could no longer lease lands, own stock in corporations designed to purchase land, or serve as guardians to minors who owned land (Chuman 1976:79; Azuma 2005:68). Amendments to the law in 1923 disallowed even the pursuit of tenancy farming (Chuman 1976:88). In order to combat the laws passed against them, some Issei attempted to argue that the Japanese race actually constituted a white people and therefore was not ineligible for citizenship. This reasoning was ultimately doomed and struck down by the Supreme Court in the Ozawa vs The United States case in 1922 (Chuman 1976:71). Finally in 1924, after continued lobbying the United States congress passed the Quota Immigration Act, effectively ending all immigration from Japan, and 16
signifying a clear rejection of the Japanese people from the United States (Chuman 1976:101; Ichioka 1988:244; Takaki 1989:210).
2.3 Years leading to Incarceration As the Quota Immigration Act of 1924, often referred to as the Japanese Exclusion Act, shut the door for many Issei, the social dynamic of the community shifted, with more emphasis focused upon Nisei to integrate and provide a future for the Japanese American community. This too would prove to be ultimately futile in regards to establishing equal and firm footing. The legislation which so adversely affected Japanese Americans exacerbated strains with European Americans as well as rifts within the community itself. These came to a head with the incarceration event in 1942. In this section I will outline the building of tensions which ultimately lead to the removal and imprisonment of all persons of Japanese ancestry as well as the divisions which they caused amongst Japanese Americans. In the years following 1924, Nisei were pushed by Issei to act in two capacities. They were to Americanize themselves, adopting mainstream American culture and ideals, while at the same time act as bridges of understanding, educating European Americans about Japan and Japanese culture (Ichioka 2006:93). In an attempt to fulfill this role, many Nisei formed a civic organization known as the Japanese American Citizens League (JACL) promoting an integration agenda (Ichioka 2006:97). This project of acting as ambassadors between Japanese Americans and European Americans, and moving towards assimilation was somewhat doomed to failure. The conflicting dualism between mainstream American identity and marginalized Japanese American identity was difficult terrain to traverse and lead to intergenerational conflict. This was demonstrated with the rise of tensions between Japan and the United States as well as the advent of the Sino-Japanese War. 17
th As the early 20 century progressed and Japan’s international influence increased, so did the animosity of European Americans towards Japanese Americans. This situation was not helped by continual pro-Japanese sentiments among the Issei. After Japan invaded China in 1937, many in the Issei community voiced their support of the Japanese troops and regularly sent aid packages overseas to Japanese soldiers (Ichioka 2006:180). Historian Yuji Ichioka (2006:198) notes that this support was in no way different than many other ethnic groups in the United States which often voiced vocal support towards their nations of origin during times of conflict. Support for Japan’s imperialist ambitions did not in any way equate to a choice of loyalty to one nation at the expense of another. Azuma (2005:164) has pointed to the fact that continued exclusion from participation within various social and civic engagements in the United States left Japanese Americans in a circumstance in which they were constantly subjected to the influences of both American and Japanese nationalist projects. They were consistently pushed and pulled between forces with reactions to these tensions situationally dependent, often contradictory to their choices at other times (Azuma 2005:5). However they approached it themselves, the European American dominated general public and institutions such as the FBI and naval intelligence categorized these pro-Japan activities as un-American and potentially dangerous (Ichioka 2006:180). As noted above, these suspicions from the government did not occur in a temporal vacuum. They emerged as a long standing trend in the history of Japanese migration to the United States which often equated nationalism and race. Tensions in California had built up throughout the first four decades with the numerous anti-Japanese legislations noted above. Even with laws hampering many of the entrepreneurial enterprises of Japanese Americans, economic competition with European American groups called for something to be done (Robinson 2009:49). During the 1920s even the soon to be president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, penned several articles critical of Japanese Americans as un-American (Robinson 2009:91). Additionally, throughout the 1920s and 1930s, 18
labor groups such as the AFL continued to exclude Japanese Americans, pushing many towards groups like the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) and Communist Party organizations (Ichioka 2006:98). In 1939, the relationship between the United States and Japan started to become acrimonious with the threat of war beginning to loom. As a result, many Nisei began to abandon the ideal of acting as a bridge between nations and embraced a hyper-inflated sense of American patriotism (Ichioka 2006:112). The FBI contacted the leadership of the JACL in order to gain information about members of the Japanese American community who had voiced pro-Japan sentiments during the Sino-Japanese war (Ichioka 2006:114). Several members of the JACL leadership allegedly collaborated with the intelligence agency and though it is ultimately unclear as to what the true extent of cooperation was, many Japanese Americans, especially Issei felt betrayed by this (Ichioka 2006:115). This rift between Issei and Nisei would ultimately carry over into the incarceration camps, with strains between the leadership of both generations. Meanwhile, as intelligence agencies continued to gather data, public opinion on the west coast, stoked by inflammatory newspapers, rapidly grew more vehement against Japanese Americans (Robinson 2009:56). On December 7th, 1941 the nation of Japan launched a surprise attack, decimating the U.S. Navy in Pearl Harbor. Over the next several months several things occurred. Naturally, the United States declared war against Japan. On the western coast, anti- Japanese rhetoric which had been strong for the previous four decades cried out for the removal and incarceration of all Japanese Americans. At this time there were no outbreaks of hysteria, panic or violence against Japanese Americans. Though there was fear, the prevailing sentiments were to eliminate a long despised minority and economic competitor (Robinson 2009:72). In one particularly poignant example, a representative of the Grower Shipper Vegetable Association declared publically that the position of European American groups stemmed from the question, “of whether the white man lives 19
on the Pacific Coast or the brown man,” (Taylor 1942 quoted in Robinson 2009:72). Meanwhile intelligence agencies presented no evidence of any threat of sabotage or espionage from the Japanese American Community (Robinson 2009:87; Hayashi 2014:291). Ultimately, the War Department, partially under political pressure from west coast leaders, recommended to the president that all persons of Japanese descent be removed from the Western States (Robinson 2009:90). President Roosevelt who, as mentioned before harbored his own racial prejudices, quickly consented and signed Executive Order 9066 on February 19,1942. This resulted in the creation of a military exclusion zone along the western coast of the United States granting the military the authority to remove and imprison all persons of Japanese ancestry. Over the following months, over 110,000 Japanese Americans were removed from their homes, gathered into assembly centers and ultimately imprisoned in American style concentration camps (Robinson 2009:129). A civilian organization, the War Relocation Authority (WRA) was erected to manage this process and administer the camps. Ten incarceration camps were created: Manzanar and Tule Lake in California, Poston and Gila River in Arizona, Jerome and Rohwer in Arkansas, Minidoka in Idaho, Topaz in Utah, Amache in Colorado and Heart Mountain in Wyoming.
2.4 Conclusion Migrants left Japan for an assortment of complex reasons. For some it was to escape the dire economic consequences of the Meiji restoration, for others it was to chase the dream of financial advancement and riches in the new world. Many sought to evade social persecution and marginalization or dodge conscription while several were hoping to extend the influence of the Japanese nation. Still others came in order to pursue a greater freedom and adventure. In many ways this eclectic mix of hopes and desires mirrored European migration to the Unites States. The resultant communities in the United States were a heterogeneous conglomeration from a wide cross-section of 20
Japanese society. While attempts were made from within to reform and homogenize the community, the class, caste and cultural divides between the Japanese migrants remained (Azuma 2005:60; Hayashi 2008:40). In reaction to this influx of migrants, European American dominated society in California sought to persecute and exclude Japanese Americans. Between the late 1890s and the outbreak of WWII, increasingly harsh legislation was passed against the Japanese American population. Tensions between the United States and Japan intensified greatly during this period. With the catalyst of Pearl Harbor, the mass removal and imprisonment of the Japanese American population was the ultimate culmination of a half-century of institutional and systemic racism. Within the Japanese American community, the push and pull between U.S. and Japanese nationalism, resulted in a complicated and often messy coalescence of reactions and political positions. This transnational identity expressed itself in a variety of manners. Exclusion from dominant American society pushed some towards further affiliation with Japan, while others doubled down on their efforts to gain acceptance. Generational divides played an especially key role as Nisei were encouraged to maintain dual senses of loyalty. By the time the removal and incarceration occurred the tensions between political groups from across the spectrum in Japanese American communities had grown to a head. These tensions and divides would play out in an assortment of ways inside the camps, pushing some groups closer together and others further apart. What is clear is that by no means was a homogenous population put into these camps, a fact that has been too often glossed over by prevailing narratives of history. 21
Chapter 3-The Archaeology of Incarceration The archaeology of sites of incarceration has received increased attention in the last several years. These projects have focused on a variety of areas, peoples and time periods. In particular the themes of resistance and control have framed many of these studies. This recent trend towards the archaeology of the incarcerated has consequently resulted in an increased focus on the archaeology of Japanese American Incarceration Camps. In this chapter I will outline the general studies of incarceration archaeology highlighting some of the themes which have been of particular interest to this project. I will then present a general history of the archaeology of Japanese American Incarceration sites, showing how the field has developed over the past 20 years. Finally I will focus on archaeological work at two camps in particular, Manzanar and Amache, highlighting the research which has focused on gardens. These accounts of gardens in Japanese American Incarceration Camp sites will provide insight into the gardens documented at Gila River (see Chapter 5).
3.1 Incarceration Archaeology The archaeology of sites of incarceration has developed greatly over the past several years. This focus has allowed archaeologists to better understand the dynamics of power and politics involved in incarceration as well as question the historical narratives which surround it (Lawrence and Davies 2011:41; Mytum and Carr 2013:4). Many have attempted to grapple with the events of WWII, examining sites associated with the Holocaust (Gilead et al. 2010; Colls 2015; Starzman 2015). Others have turned an eye towards the incarceration of individuals on the Homefront, examining sites where prisoners of war were held (Myers 2013; Myers and Dodson 2014). Still others have begun to examine even more recent conflicts such as the Troubles in Ireland, and political prisons of that conflict (McAtackney 2014). The field of incarceration archaeology has 22
pushed to tackle concepts of power, politics and memory. In this section I will briefly outline the development of this discipline over the past decade. Eleanor Casella’s work, The Archaeology o f Institutional Confinement (2007) examines the material dimensions of confinement in the United States and attempts to explore different theoretical approaches to the study of confinement. She notes that though scholarly approaches to confinement had once focused on the dichotomous relationship between power and resistance, more recent work has highlighted the complexity of power arrangements within institutions of confinement (Casella 2007:82). Furthermore Casella (2007:133-142) points to the potential for archaeological explorations of institutions such as the Manzanar War Relocation Center to delve into the materiality of these power arrangements and to provide insight into processes of coping that incarcerees utilize to survive. Building on this theme of studying institutionality, many archaeologists turned their attentions to the material dimensions of confinement and control. The Archaeology o f Institutional Life looked at this subject in depth, exploring a wide range of institutions from schools to prisons, and almshouses to asylums (Beisaw and Gibb 2009). A reoccurring theme amongst these were establishments which sought to control people’s lives and behaviors (Baugher 2009:5). The various case studies demonstrated an assortment of methodologies which can be applied to the study of institutions. Attention was also directed towards the need for approaches which recognize the diversities of institutionalized populations and the historically specific types of institutions (Casella 2009:32). Finally the volume called for archaeologies of institutions to be both comparative and contextual, emphasizing the merits of both approaches (De Cunzo 2009:210). In a similar vein, Adrian Myers and Gabriel Moshenska (2011) produced a collection of studies which focused on areas of incarceration from across the globe. In particular they focused on the ways in which spaces and materials are controlled and 23
organized, often used to reinforce or embody social ideas (Moshenska and Myers 2011:8). More than this, they contended heavily that archaeological explorations of this topic can aid our understandings of how institutions of incarceration and confinement function today (Moshenska and Myers 2011:1). The assemblage of case studies presented in their volume highlight these complex dynamics surrounding incarceration, emphasizing social relevance to the present. In particular, several explored the politics of memory surrounding these sites as they become focal points for communities confronting the past (Farrell and Burton 2011; Gonzalez-Ruibal 2011; Company et al. 2011). Focusing more narrowly on sites associated with war, Harold Mytum and Gilly Carr’s volume, Prisoners of War (2013), looked at archaeological approaches to incarceration sites from the eighteenth to twentieth centuries. The editors offered the potential of archaeology to counter histories produced by both the captors and the imprisoned, providing another voice to the often competing narratives (Mytum and Carr 2013:4). Furthermore they contended that archaeological scrutiny can reveal the effects of such confinement on groups as well as individuals (Mytum and Carr 2013:7). Similarly to the authors in the Myers and Moshenska volume, Mytum and Carr (2013:13) stressed the intertwined nature between sites of confinement from the 20 th century and memory, linking places and materials with those who remember and those who forget. The case studies presented in their book cover several different thematically organized areas, the last of which deals with the Japanese American Incarceration (see section 3.2). The archaeology of sites of incarceration has grown greatly in scholarship over the last decade. It has focused on a variety of subjects from the institution to the individual, exploring the dynamics of power and the shifting identities of the incarcerated. The international range of sites and investigators has brought a number of diverse perspectives to the fore, attempting to conceptualize appropriate frameworks to approach the field. 24
3.2 Japanese American Incarceration Sites The archaeology of Japanese American Incarceration Sites has largely been spearheaded by the work of the National Parks Service (NPS). With its designation as a National Historic Site, the Manzanar War Relocation Center has been extensively investigated by the NPS. One of the first major investigations took place between 1993 and 1995 with an immense survey of over 1,250 acres around the camp (Burton 1996:1). All told, 102 archaeological sites were recorded, with 25 found to be related to the Manzanar War Relocation Center (Burton 1996). The report that was produced, Three Farewells to Manzanar, concluded that the archaeological features associated with the incarceration period could provide insight into the themes of confinement, ethnicity, resistance and daily life (Burton 1996:636). Subsequent studies conducted at Manzanar have largely focused on these themes, with the NPS undertaking a variety of surveys, excavations and studies over the past 20 years (Burton 1998; Burton et al. 2001; Burton 2005; Burton and Farrell 2013; Beckwith 2013; Burton and Farrell 2014; Burton 2015). The NPS has also investigated in detail three other WRA incarceration sites: Minidoka, Idaho (Burton and Farrell 2001), Tule Lake, California (Burton and Farrell 2005) and Poston, Arizona (Burton and Farrell 2006). Additionally it has conducted a general survey detailing the archaeological remains at all of the general population sites, assembly centers, isolation centers and internment camps (Burton et al. 1999). Finally, it has investigated the Honouliuli camp in Hawai’i (Burton and Farrell 2007; Burton and Farrell 2008). These reports have not covered the sites to the extent of the research at Manzanar, but stand as important documentations of materials at each of the sites they discuss. They have served as valuable starting points for further research. Outside of the NPS, several studies of the incarceration camps have been performed by various Cultural Resource Management (CRM) firms and other public entities. The Topaz camp in Utah was surveyed and documented by a CRM firm (Ellis 2002) as was the Gila River camp in Arizona (Effland and Green 1983; Sullivan et al. 25
1987; Sawyer-Lang 1989; Tamir et al. 1993). Additionally the Wyoming Recreation Commission completed a survey of the Heart Mountain camp in Wyoming to nominate it for the National Register (Gorman 1985). The archaeological remains of the Jerome and Rohwer camps in Arkansas have only been documented through the wider survey of incarceration sites by the NPS (Burton et al. 1999). Universities have also played a key role in documenting archaeological resources at these sites of incarceration. Nicole Branton from the University of Arizona examined ceramics at Manzanar for her Masters (2000) and PhD research (2004). She concluded that the proportion of Japanese ceramics at Manzanar compared to WRA issued white wares suggested a subtle form of resistance to the camp’s Americanization project (Branton 2000:56). Furthermore, these ceramics found near barracks indicated strategies employed by incarcerees to combat the dissolution of the family unit, a phenomenon often noted in histories of the camps (Branton 2004:161). Laura Ng (2014) from the University of Massachusetts Boston, conducted her Master’s research on the external and internal modifications that incarcerees made to their living quarters. She noted that the modification of indoor environments, taking form in the creation of basements, furniture and partitions, allowed incarcerees to increase their comfort as well as maintain social cohesion (Ng 2014:58). She similarly concluded that the production of gardens, modifying the external environment, played a pivotal role in the maintenance of social ties between community groups and families in the camp (Ng 2014:84). An ongoing research project from the University of Denver under the direction of Professor Bonnie Clark has extensively researched the Amache camp in Colorado. Michelle Slaughter, in her Master’s Thesis (2006) examined the role of sake consumption within the camp. Her research led her to conclude that sake consumption, while a form a resistance, allowed incarcerees to maintain cultural tradition and a sense of normalcy within the camps (Slaughter 2013:300). Christian Driver (2015:158) continued this theme of research, but concluded instead that the consumption of sake at Amache was an “act of 26
residence,” or homemaking more than it was any kind of resistance. Similarly, Stephanie Skiles and Clark (2010:190) approached Japanese-styled ceramics as a way homemaking, providing a familiar context for incarcerees in the alienated environment of the prison camp. Dana Ogo Shew (2010:170) in her research examined the expression of femininity at Amache, arguing that the context of the camp allowed for more open Japanese feminine practice without fear of harassment as well as freedom to pursue American forms of femininity for Nisei. April Kamp-Whittaker (2010:151) examined the experience of children in the camp, noting their flexible response to the incarceration as well as their fluid identities between Japanese and American cultural norms of play. Zachary Starke (2015:170) looked at the maintenance of traditional Japanese practices such as sumo-wrestling, communal bathing and kabuki theatre, concluding these activities allowed for greater cohesion amongst the incarcerees. He added that the context of incarceration allowed for new forms and approaches to the practices to be carried out, creating new traditions (Starke 2015:173). Finally, David Garrison (2015:110) interpreted the role of entryway gardens as expressing Japanese aesthetic preferences as well as coping with the conditions of incarceration. The University of Idaho has undertaken archaeological work at the Kooskia Internment Camp in Idaho. The Kooskia camp is notable for being a small all-male camp, housing 256 Japanese internees as opposed to the general population incarceration camps which generally had populations ranging from 7,000-17,000. It is one of the only internment camps from the war to be investigated in depth with a multi-year project lead by Professor Stacey Camp. Kyla Fitz-Gerald (2015) completed her Master’s research on the camp, exploring ideas of gender and masculinity in relation to hygiene products. Much work has been done in regards to Japanese American sites of incarceration, and yet much still needs to be done. Ongoing projects at Manzanar, Amache and Kooskia have allowed for comprehensive surveys and excavations at sites, recording many aspects of life at these camps. As time has progressed they have also been able to wrestle with 27
many of the social implications of their finds. All of the projects have relied on combinations of archaeological, archival and oral historical documentation, a trifecta of sources that I employ in this project as well. In this way they attempt to engage in the lived experiences of incarcerees and begin to deal with the politics of memory and narratives that surround the sites. However, many of these projects have been hindered by a lack of interdisciplinary consideration, ignoring much of the recent Asian American historiography which has been produced in the past 20 years. This evolving field has been critical of many earlier approaches to the history of Japanese Americans and the incarceration. In particular earlier historical works lack Japanese language primary sources and tend to provide singular narratives of the past, often ignoring the themes of trauma, transnationalism diaspora and globalization (Chan 2007:128). As many of these archaeological projects take on these very themes the lacuna of contemporary Asian American historical sources can limit their insight. Additionally, many of these projects on incarceration interpret a dichotomous relationship between Japanese and American identities. The absence of a transnational approach hinders these interpretations and considerations of the complexity of entanglements Japanese Americans found themselves in. Despite this, the research conducted on Japanese American sites of incarceration has significantly broadened our understandings of the WWII experience. Their ability to add to, refute, and complicate the historical record stands as a testimony to their value. In the remainder of this chapter I will discuss the treatment of gardens at two of the incarceration camps: Manzanar and Amache. In doing so I will demonstrate how gardens have been interpreted at these sites and the insights they have provided. As mentioned in Chapter 1, the archaeological work on gardens at Gila River has been fairly limited. Consequently research on gardens at Manzanar and Amache provide valuable comparisons for garden usage at Gila River. 28
3.3 Gardens at Manzanar The archaeology of Manzanar has been extensively explored by the NPS. As discussed above, a wide range of features and materials have been documented and analyzed over the past two decades. Perhaps the most ubiquitous of these are gardens built by the incarcerees. At the time of writing, the NPS had identified, excavated and recorded 20 gardens and landscaping features throughout the camp, though numerous other garden and landscaping features were built (Burton 2015:107). Gardens have been divided into about 8 broad categories based upon placement and composition: Barrack’s Gardens, Mess Hall Gardens, Community Parks, Other Gardens (associated with Administration areas, military police compound, auditorium and other assorted areas), Picnic Areas, Lawns, Tree Plantings and Victory Gardens (Burton 2015:18-74). For the purposes of comparative analysis I will focus on research surrounding Barrack’s Gardens and Mess Hall Gardens as these seem to be the most prevalent types observed in the survey of Gila River. Barracks Gardens were the most prolific type of gardens constructed at the camp, often as personal gardens adorning the sides of incarceree’s barracks (Burton 2015:18). Mess Hall gardens in contrast were gardens built next to Block’s Mess Halls, where incarcerees assembled three times a day, often forming long lines, for meals (Burton 2015:23). Much of the research on gardens at Manzanar has highlighted the theme of resistance. The identification of traditional Japanese gardens elements in a time in which Japanese identity was taboo has been seen as an act of defiance towards camp authorities (Tamura 2004:17). The Block 22 mess hall garden, named Otaba no Ike, was noted for its use of many traditional Japanese garden elements. It was fairly complex garden with a “drum-style” bridge, standing rocks and a wishing well, all of which were popular designs in Japanese gardens (Beckwith 2013:282; Burton 2015:161-163). Furthermore the gardens contain several objects including old wagon wheels, automobile parts and decaying stumps (Burton 2015:162). These objects are attributed to the gardening 29
concept of wabi-sabi which seeks to display the impermanence of things with rustic and often decaying items (Beckwith 2013:282). The Block 34 Mess Hall garden has had a plethora of Japanese garden designs similarly recorded. This garden was noted for its adherence to the principles of “geologic zones” in Japanese gardening as well as the incorporation of crane rocks and turtle rocks which were fairly traditional design features (Beckwith 2013:280-282). Beyond the stylistic elements, the use of materials for the construction of such ponds has been seen as resistance towards camp authorities. The nickname of the Block 22 pond was the “Three-Sack-Pond,” referring to the limit of three sacks of cement imposed by the WRA for construction purposes. In an oral history interview Henry Ueno, one of the designers of the garden, remarked that they erased and forged their paperwork, returning eight times to use 24 sacks of concrete for the ponds (Burton 2015:25). In studying the pond however, Burton notes that an analysis if the thickness and surface area of the pond suggests that it could have been built with three sacks of cement (2015:25). However the legend of this act of resistance, which did spread through the camp, lent it power and turned into a symbol of defiance (Helphand 2006:182). The garden also acted as the scene of the Manzanar protests in December of 1942. Henry Ueno was also the leader of the 1,500 Kitchen’s Worker’s Union, and had allegedly beat a man accused of being an informer to the FBI and aiding in the theft of meat and sugar rations by WRA administrators (Tamura 2004:17). Ueno was imprisoned for the assault and 2,000 people gathered at the Block 22 Mess Hall, starting a protest in the garden which ultimately resulted in the death of two people and ten injuries (Tamura 2004:17). In her thesis research, Laura Ng has moved towards a more nuanced approach to interpreting gardens. Ng utilized a combination of oral historical and demographic research to conclude that the construction of ornamental gardens at Manzanar offered ways to maintain social relations, impart gardening skills and ameliorate racial tensions (Ng 2014:59). Her analysis of gardens found that many were group efforts and some 30
were the product of intergenerational family projects (Ng 2014:72). Furthermore some gardens utilized spaces shared by many incarcerees in a block. For instance, William Katsuki’s garden in Block 24 spanned the length of his barracks, and Jack Arai’s garden in Block 33 was centered between four apartments between two barracks (Ng 2014:73). Both gardens were composed of a variety of landscaping elements including plants and ponds. The positioning of these gardens in their blocks suggests that they were intended for more than simply personal use but rather were intended for other members of the community to enjoy. An analysis of the artifacts found in both the Arai and Katsuki gardens suggests they were frequented by children. Amongst those recovered from the Arai garden were children’s buttons, a baby’s spoon, and an assortment of toys including 323 glass marbles (Burton and Farrell 2014:44-45). The presence of these items associated with children suggests the pond an important place of family. In an oral history Madelon Arai Yamamoto, the daughter of Jack Arai, remembers that her father insisted the family eat every meal together, corroborating this idea of family usage (Burton and Farrell 2014:57). Although smaller in number, several toys were also found in the Katsuki garden including plastic warplanes, miniature fire trucks and glass marbles (Ng 2014:76). This suggests that the garden was used as a place for children to play, much like the Arai garden. The presence of toys at these gardens, their positioning between the barracks, and the shared construction efforts are all indications that gardens may have been used as places for families and small communities to come together. Ng also suggests that these gardens were sites used to negotiate racism. She traces the history of Japanese garden construction in the United States as places utilized as fostering goodwill between Japanese and European Americans (Ng 2014:81). In doing so she extends Esaki’s (2013:260) argument that early 20th century Japanese gardens were sites which offered non-threatening versions of Japanese culture, meeting the “Orientalist expectations” of European Americans to those built by incarcerees at Manzanar (Ng 31
2014:81). Through the construction of gardens, incarcerees at Manzanar could present safe versions of Japanese culture that promoted positive images, countering negative racial stereotypes. They were embraced by the WRA administration as they kept incarcerees occupied and promoted positive images of the incarceration (Ng 2014:82). The research of gardens at Manzanar provides a large number of insights into life within the camp. The work of the NPS in excavating and documenting these gardens has provided a number of examples of these features and their place within the lives of incarcerees. The presence of artifacts relating to children provides a glimpse at the usage of gardens, a topic which has been developed more thoroughly at investigations into gardens at Amache. It has also highlighted the performance of ethnic identity at Manzanar and some of the subversive acts of resistance. Ng’s approach to gardens within the camps moves past the theme of resistance. While resistance is undoubtedly important aspect of the formation of gardens within the camps, the communal construction and negotiations of race within the incarceration camps are equally important. Ng’s analysis allows for these topics to be broached and a more in depth understanding of the multidimensional aspects of gardens.
3.4 Gardens at Amache The archaeology of Amache, known as the Granada Relocation Center during its operation, has been investigated by the University of Denver’s multi-year project there. Gardens have been explored through a range of techniques including excavation, macrobotanical analysis and ground penetrating radar, soil chemistry and palynology (Clark 2016:3). The results of this intensive analysis have suggested that incarcerees transplanted some decorative species and imported Canna, a tropical plant associated with Japanese Hawaiian sites (Clark 2011:3; Clark 2016:3). Excavations of entryway gardens revealed the presence of eggshells and tea leaves in the soil. These items would have likely been used by incarcerees to amend the soil (Clark 2011:2). Many improvised 32
items were incorporated into the garden landscapes at Amache including broken water pipes and wire, which would have likely been scavenged or stolen (Clark 2011:3). The investment of materials, and soil modification suggest that gardens were fairly important to their creators. Large amounts of time and effort were put into their construction and maintenance. April Kamp-Whittaker’s (2010:151) research focused on children at the Amache camp, finding that adults often employed strategies to shield children from the trauma of incarceration. Gardens played an important role in the life of children as places where they spent significant amounts of time. Archaeological survey found that many of the garden features around Amache including ponds contained marbles (Kamp-Whittaker 2010:80). Kamp-Whittaker (2010:80) argues that gardens were desired places for children to play as they had complex features for the children to incorporate into their games and were close to barracks, where parents could keep a close eye on the youth. This interpretation of gardens as places where children played and socialized parallels the conclusions on gardens at Manzanar. The utilization of these spaces by youth of the camp marks the importance of gardens in providing places of home and security. Jane Dusselier (2009:3) in her book Artifacts o f Loss argues that gardens in the incarceration camps were spaces of re-territorialization, making home from foreign environments. The construction of gardens partly as places for families to play out their daily lives and children to play in does exactly this. It is the creation of a home place. Garrison’s research concentrated on the construction of entryway gardens at Amache focusing on the design elements involved in the creation of landscapes. His examination of the design of five gardens, points to the possible presence of Japanese garden design elements (Garrison 2015:97). He characterized several traditional garden construction practices and styles and noted their presence in the gardens he examined. Garrison (2015:105) interprets this presence as “signaling affiliation,” in that the widespread application of Japanese gardening techniques serves as an indication of 33
Japanese identity in unison with other garden builders. He also points out several potential western design elements, which infers as being indications of “making due” and the fluidity of Japanese American identity (Garrison 2015:106). Furthermore he finds that the creation of gardens were acts of residence and survivance, demonstrating creative responses to transplantation and incarceration (Garrison 2015:107). As noted in Chapter 2, the identity of Japanese Americans before the incarceration was extremely complex. Their transnational nature forced them to navigate between the hegemonic forces of both Japan and the United States (Azuma 2005:6). Consequently the divide between Japanese and Western identities was blurred and often unclear. Japanese Americans utilized a mixture of the two in a variety of new ways often combining cultural practices (Ross 2013:194). Furthermore, in regards to material culture, many western goods were introduced to Japanese people in Japan before their migration to America, taking on new and culturally appropriate meanings very different to those which might be assumed in an American context (Ross 2013:196). This nature of Japanese American identity complicates interpretations, and erases the dichotomy of Western and Japanese. Investigations of gardens at Amache offers great insight into the care and attention to these projects by the incarcerees. It suggests that great time and effort went not only into the planning and construction of gardens but to their ongoing maintenance throughout the incarceration period. It also provides a glimpse into the ways that gardens were used by children at the camps, as places of play. This furthers the idea of gardens as ways of making home and reaching a degree of normalcy in an abnormal environment. Finally, the investigation of gardens reveals some of the complications of interpreting identity, requiring a reassessment of conceptions of Japanese and Western culture. 34
3.5-Conclusion Studies of incarceration have increased over the past two decades with archaeology providing insight into a wide spectrum of themes. Archaeology has allowed for greater explorations into the materiality of control and resistance as well as the lives of the incarcerated. These individuals have often remained muted in the historical record. In consort with this greater focus on incarcerality, the study of WWII Japanese American incarceration camps has developed vastly. The NPS has provided a broad foundation of study through its cataloging of sites related to this period, and its in-depth investigations at Manzanar. Projects led by various university faculty and students have also delivered insightful results, revealing the details of people’s lives inside of the camps and the manners in which they navigated their racially charged imprisonment. Especially intriguing are explorations of gardens at Manzanar and Amache. These studies have suggested that gardens were utilized as places of community and as forms of resistance and defiance. My research at Gila River builds upon this work. As the results in Chapter 4 will detail, Gila River is unique in its high frequency of garden ponds which remain visible without subsurface exploration. These in turn offer a broader understanding of gardens built by incarcerees, especially in cases where they closely abutted barracks. 35
Chapter 4- Gila River 4.1 Introduction The primary subject of my research was the Gila River Incarceration Camp. I undertook a survey of garden features, documenting their characteristics and their locations. In this chapter I will briefly introduce the history of the Gila River camp, describe its role in the Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement Study, and outline the previous archaeological work that has been conducted there. I will then describe my own survey of the camp and present a catalog of my survey results. The Gila River Incarceration Camp, known as the Rivers Relocation Center during its operation, was opened in July of 1942, receiving its first inmates by train. It was located on a Native American Reservation created in 1859, and governed by the Gila River Indian Community (GRIC), a group primarily composed of Akimel O’otham and Maricopa peoples. The War Relocation Authority (WRA) had three criteria for selecting sites for the concentration camps: accessibility to railways for transportation, isolation from military installations and the potential for agricultural development (NPS 2006:96). John Collier, the United State Commissioner of Indian Affairs at the time of the incarceration, lobbied strongly for the centers to be placed on Native American reservations, arguing that Japanese Americans could cultivate the lands and leave structures for Native American use after the closure of the camps (Tamir et al. 1993:96) Furthermore, Indian Affairs already had experience in “handling a minority group” (Collier quoted in Bernstein 1991:83). Despite his proposal for eight of the ten camps to be placed on reservations, only two were ultimately selected: Poston and Gila River, and only Poston was positioned under the authority of Indian Affairs (Tamir et al. 1993:96). The placement of the camps on reservations was decided with little regard to the opinions or wishes of the governing tribal bodies. The WRA officially leased approximately 17,000 acres of land from the GRIC, paying $20 per acre of cultivated land each year (Tamir et al. 1993:65). However, 36
the GRIC governing council voted twice against allowing the incarceration project to be located on the reservation land, approving the camp on a third vote after most of it had already been constructed. With their tacit approval the GRIC tribal council also expressed its anger over the lack of consultation before construction began (Bernstein 1991:84). The Gila River camp was divided into two discrete camps a little under three miles apart. Camp 1 was known as Canal Camp and was on the banks of a canal that connected to the Gila River. It was the first and smaller of the two camps with a group of 520 incarcerees arriving from the Turlock Assembly Center on July 20, 1942 (WRA 1945:11). By the end of August, 5400 people were living in Canal Camp, which had an official capacity of 4800 (WRA 1945:12). Camp 2 was opened at this time near the Sacaton Butte and named Butte Camp. This would ultimately prove to be the larger of the two camps, by 1943 housing 8301 Japanese Americans, and absorbing some of the population overflow from Canal Camp (WRA 1945:13). Over 16,000 people would move in and out of the Gila River Camp, though at its peak it contained 13,348 people (Burton et al. 1999:61). The camp would eventually close on November 15, 1945 with most of its buildings dismantled or auctioned off by the WRA (Tamir et al. 1993:52). As with all of the WRA administered camps, Gila River was organized into residential blocks formed into a grid along a north-south axis. Canal Camp contained 27 blocks, 18 of which were residential, six recreational fields, and three administrative offices. Butte Camp contained 49 blocks, 36 of which were residential, seven recreational fields, five administrative and warehousing blocks, and one hospital (Burton et al. 1999). Each residential block contained 14 evenly spaced barracks arranged in two rows, with a mess hall at the end of one row and a recreation hall at the end of the other. Between the two rows were two lavatories, a laundry room and a store room. Barracks were subdivided into four apartments each of which were to hold up to 6 people. The apartments were approximately 24ft by 20ft, with the exception of one which was 28ft by 20ft and intended for larger families (WRA 1945:38). 37
Lavatory
12 I lavatory
Laundry Room
Ironing Room Mess I tall Rccrcation Hail
Butte Camp I Meters © - Typical Block Structure 0 5 10 20 30
Figure 1. The typical block structure at Butte Camp in Gila River. Drawn by Koji Ozawa 38
The WRA attempted to group people from the same neighborhoods before the war in the same blocks in hopes of promoting group unity and harmony (WRA 1945:13). Also present at the Gila River Camp was the Japanese Evacuation and Resettlement Study (JERS). This was a project directed by Dorothy Swaine Thomas, a sociology professor at the University of California Berkeley. It aimed to study the effects of forced migration on the Japanese American population, utilizing first hand observations made by graduate student researchers (Ichioka 1989:5). The JERS produced three official books based upon its research. The first work, The Spoilage, traced the lives of incarcerees who ultimately renounced American citizenship, or in the case of Issei applied for repatriation back to Japan (Thomas and Nishimoto 1946). The Salvage focused on the resettlement of Japanese Americans after their time in the incarceration camps (Thomas et al. 1952). A portion of the material used in this work came from a series of life histories of incarcerees interviewed by Charles Kikuchi. Kikuchi’s diary of his experiences as a researcher for the JERS and as an incarcerated Nisei was itself turned into a publication several years later (Kikuchi 1973). Finally, Prejudice, War and the Constitution accounted for historical factors leading up to the incarceration (tenBroek et al. 1954). This last work was produced in response to an alternative reading of history, Americans Betrayed: Politics and the Japanese Evacuation, a study by a former JERS worker which heavily blamed west coast politicians for the incarceration (Grodzins 1949). Additionally, numerous dissertations pertaining to the incarceration were produced by members of the research team (Spencer 1946; Shibutani 1948; Sakoda 1949; Miyamoto 1950; Wax 1951). The published works of the JERS have been criticized for their lack of consideration towards the history and culture of the Japanese Americans incarcerated as well as the adverse effects the research had on incarcerees (Opler 1948; Suzuki 1981; Feeley 1999). Peter Suzuki (1986:195) has highly criticized the anthropologists and their involvement with political factions within the camp. Despite these critiques, the JERS 39
collected a vast amount of data. The field notes and interviews by the anthropologists sent into the field provide valuable insights into life at the camps. These sources remain some of the only contemporaneous records of the minutiae of day to day life and provide invaluable information (Ichioka 1989:23; Takagi 1989:211; Hirabayashi 1999:7). Three field researchers are of particular interest to understanding life at Gila River. Robert Spencer and Rosalie Wax were both anthropologists working for the JERS and recorded much of their experience at Gila River in field notes and correspondence. They have also both authored works which reflected on their time at the camps in retrospect (Wax 1971; Spencer 1989). Charles Kikuchi was a Nisei field researcher incarcerated at Gila River. In addition to several reports he authored in camp, Kikuchi conducted a series of 64 life history interviews of Nisei resettlers immediately after they left various incarceration camps. Sixteen of these Nisei were imprisoned at Gila River. These interviews provide extremely personal accounts of the incarceration in vivid detail and stand as an unparalleled resource (Takagi 1989:212). Accordingly I have incorporated the information from the various field notes, preliminary reports, letters, and interviews conducted by the JERS researchers into my analysis and interpretation of life at Gila River.
4.2 Archaeology at Gila River Archaeological work at the Gila River Camps has been relatively limited. Four cultural resource management reports were produced in the late 1980s and early 1990s. These efforts surveyed auxiliary areas of Gila River Camp complex (Effland and Green 1983; Sullivan et al. 1987; Sawyer-Lang 1989; Tamir et al. 1993). The first survey was undertaken during a planned expansion of the Gila Farms and though it did not directly cover the primary camp areas it recommended that the area adjacent to Butte Camp be further investigated (Effland and Green 1983). In 1987, further survey of the area south of Butte Camp came across the remains of a dairy and a sewer plant operated by Japanese 40
Americans during the operation of the camp, but determined that they did not need to be preserved or studied further (Sullivan et al. 1987:68). Government review of this recommendation determined that more investigation was required in order to mitigate potential effects from the farm expansion (Burton et al. 1999:72). This resulted in a survey of trash scatters around the periphery of Butte camp (Sawyer-Lang 1989) and a supplemental report which analyzed the artifacts from this survey in greater detail with archival and oral historical research (Tamir et al. 1993). However none of these archaeological studies dealt in detail with the archaeology within the actual boundaries of the two camp sites. Since these initial reports only two other archaeological studies have considered the remains of the Gila River camps. In the late 1990s, the National Parks Service (NPS) undertook a large study of sites related to the incarceration event, superficially documenting the remains of all ten WRA camps and numerous other assembly centers, detention centers, isolation centers and prisons (Burton et al. 1999). This massive overview was undertaken with the intention of indicating what kind of archaeological resources remain at each site and if there was enough integrity for further study. It found that the central areas of both Canal Camp and Butte Camp retained a substantial amount of material and features which pertained to the incarceration (Burton et al. 1999:6). However due to the goals and size of the project, investigations were exploratory and unable to delve deeper into the material present. In 2010 the GRIC-Cultural Resources Management Program (GRIC-CRMP) surveyed and monitored an area encompassing the north-eastern edge of Butte Camp as part of a water tank and water main construction project (Wright 2010). Although the survey area only covered a small area on the periphery of the camp, at least 12 features were recorded which related to the operation of the incarceration camp, including building footings and inscribed concrete platforms (Wright 2010:23). The survey also noted that there are indications of substantial material remains which stand with high levels of integrity (Wright 2010:29). Both of these 41
archaeological studies documented the presence of artifacts and archaeological features in great abundances at Butte Camp with the NPS report indicating similar preservation at Canal Camp. However until now there have been no further investigations at either of the two camps.
4.3 An Archaeological Survey of Garden Ponds In 2015 in collaboration with GRIC-CRMP, I carried out a systematic survey of the 22 northernmost blocks of Butte Camp, documenting the remains of gardens. Of the 22 surveyed, 14 were residential blocks with the remaining blocks containing administrative buildings, warehouses and a hospital. This area constitutes a little under 1/2 of the 49 total blocks at Butte Camp. In accordance with GRIC wishes, no archaeological materials were removed from the site, and no soil was disturbed. With these guiding parameters, ponds were selected as the most visibly consistent indication of gardening activities at the camp. Ponds were defined as concrete lined ornamental features created with the potential for holding water. Features which presented groupings of rocks or other decorative materials but no visible indications of linings were tested with a subsurface probe. If a solid base was detected throughout the feature, it was interpreted as a pond and recorded as such. A photograph was taken of each pond and a GPS point using a Juno 3B Trimble device. Each pond was assigned a numerical designation sequentially based upon its order of detection. Due to the constraints of time, equipment and personnel, we were unable to position a scale in every photograph. However, each pond feature was classified into three relative size categories based upon approximate length: small (0.1m-2.9m), medium (3.0m-5.0m), and large (longer than 5.1m). A total of 64 ponds were discovered and recorded in this survey effort, far surpassing the small number noted by the NPS survey of Butte Camp (Burton 2014, personal communication). Figure 2 shows the location of all of the pond features on an 42
overview map of Butte Camp. Unlike other incarceration camp sites such as Manzanar, Amache, or Minidoka there are few photographs available which show gardens built by incarcerees at Gila River. As such the archaeological remains of ponds offer some of the best indications of how gardens were constructed by incarcerees and their design. In the remainder of this chapter I will present the results of the survey undertaken in 2015.1 have divided the results by residential block, the primary organizing unit of the camp. In each block I present a photograph of the pond, and a short description of the pond’s characteristics including its relative size, position, and composition. At the end of each block section there will be a block map, detailing the position of each pond in relation to the buildings constructed by the WRA. These were plotted using the GPS results from the survey and orthorectifying historic maps with geographic information system software (GIS). The accuracy of the Trimble placed gardens within 3m of their actual location. Consequently some feature may appear slightly shifted from their actual positions. At the end the results of the survey will be presented in summary tables. Figure 2. Overview Map o f Butte Camp at Gila River, showing locations ofpond features logged during the 2015 survey. Map drawn by Koji Ozawa. Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earths tar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 44
4.4 Survey Results Block 55
Figure 3. Photo o f Pond 22 in Block 55, looking southeast. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 22 Pond 22 was discovered along the northern edge of Barracks 1. The remains of a barrack’s footing immediately adjacent to the pond speaks to its close proximity to the building. Its shape was of fairly simple design, of two ovals conjoined along one side. A small concrete and terracotta tunnel was visible along the base of the pond, between the two ovals. Its presence suggest the possibility of fish being kept within the pond, a phenomenon noted in oral histories. The practice of building small tunnels and caves in ponds was described by the Arai family at Manzanar. Minimal ornamentation was visible along the lip of the pond and in the pond walls, with only three stones embedded within the lining. At least two types of concrete were visible, a light brown and highly textured material, used for the majority of the pond walls, and a darker gray colored concrete, present along the lip of the pond. 45
Figure 4. Photo o f Pond 23 in Block 55, looking northwest. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 23 Pond 23 was positioned between Barracks 2 and Barracks 3. The pond was roughly square in shape and divided into three separate chambers. Two of these chambers were positioned along one side of the square and were relatively narrow. Like Pond 22, a terracotta pipe was utilized to connect the chambers, acting as a possible tunnel between the two. The third was much larger, spanning the remaining breadth of the square. The lining of the pond appears to be made of a light gray concrete, fairly uniform across the entire perimeter. In one comer of the largest chamber, half of a large terracotta pipe is visible, embedded within the concrete. Along one length of the edge, the inner lip of the pond was decorated with a series of stones, perhaps visible just above the water line when filled. 46
Figure 5. Photo o f Pond 24 in Block 55, looking southeast. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 24 Pond 24 was the largest of the ponds within Block 55, positioned along the southern edge of Barracks 4. It was roughly square in shape and contained at least two chambers, one larger square shaped and one smaller and rectangular, sharing one side with each other. Within the larger chamber, two islands were visible, both with open troughs. Schist and granite stones were embedded somewhat sporadically along the perimeter of the pond. Several large flat granite blocks were visible protruding from the edge of the larger chamber and from one of the islands. These bear a striking resemblance to the turtle rocks noted by Beckwith at Manzanar (2013). The concrete lining of the pond is of a light brown color and highly crumbly. 47
Figure 6. Planview o f Block 55. Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, Geo Eye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aero grid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 48
Block 56
Figure 7. Photo o f Pond 34 in Block 56, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 34 Pond 34 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 3. It has incorporated a barracks footing into its design, with a quartz mosaic lining surrounding the footing block. The perimeter of the pond is composed of fairly large granite stones covering the concrete walls of the pond. Pond 34 is the only pond which has explicitly appeared in the historical record, being featured in the Gila News-Courier. The article has a drawn rendition of the pond with the highly distinguishable mosaicked footing visible. It is attributed to Y.Tomita and is described as a “picturesque rock garden,” {News-Courier Sept 12 1942:4). The drawing features a small bridge across the pond and stone lantern, both of which were not present at the time of the survey. Figure 8. Photo o f Pond 35 in Block 56, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 35 Like Pond 34, Pond 35 was located along the edge of Barracks 3, further south. It was almost entirely buried, with only the tops of granite stones arranged in an oval suggesting its presence. Probing confirmed the presence of a base throughout the pond. One thin granite stone stood erect amongst the mostly flat others. Other details of the pond were impossible to distinguish without excavation. 50
Figure 9. Photo o f Pond 36 in Block 56, looking south. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 36 Pond 36 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 2. Two of the barracks footings were apparent on either side of the pond, suggesting that the pond closely abutted the barracks. Most of the pond is buried beneath sediment, leaving only a small portion of the lip visible on the surface. The pond’s shape appeared to be two conjoined circles, like a figure-8. On one end of the pond, a schist stone stood erect. The concrete used in the lip was dark gray and fairly granular in texture. 51
Figure 10. Planview o f Block 56. Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, Geo Eye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 52
Block 57
Figure 11. Photo o f Pond 28 in Block 57, looking east. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 28 Pond 28 appeared along the western edge of Barracks 1. It was extremely simple in design, resembling a bathtub in shape, being rectangular with curved corners. It had a wide lip made from coarse light brown granular concrete. The concrete lining the interior of the pond was of a much finer material. No ornamentation was apparent. 53
Figure 12. Photo o f Pond 29 in Block 57, looking south. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 29 Pond 29 was located next to the Southern end of Barracks 2. It was highly fragmented and mostly buried. The visible portions of the lip suggested a rectangular shape and a relatively small size. A barrack’s footing was immediately adjacent to the pond, suggesting it was positioned next to the barrack’s edge. A singular quartz stone was embedded in the lip of the pond, with no other ornamentation visible. The concrete appeared light gray and highly granular. Figure 13. Photo o f Pond 30 in Block 57, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 30 Pond 30 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 9. The pond is of a medium size, long and narrow. Most of its remains were highly obscured by vegetation. A barrack’s footing located next to the pond suggests its immediate proximity to the building. One chamber and a channel leading to or from were visible, as was a small pile of granite rocks. Unfortunately more exact details were unclear. A high volume of smaller granite stones were scattered throughout, possibly part of the original construction. The chamber which remained visible was made from light gray concrete. 55
Figure 14. Photo o f Pond 31 in Block 57, looking west. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 31 Pond 31 was located along the eastern side of Barracks 8. It was fragmented with only a small portion of the lip visible. The discemable portion of the pond had a semi-circular shape, and revealed a concrete lining embedded with a quartz-mosaic pattern. Probing confirmed a concrete base to the pond. The concrete was gray with a slightly granular texture. The visible portion of the lip was highly uniform in thickness and shape. Figure 15. Photo o f Pond 32 in Block 57, looking north. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 32 Pond 32 was located on the southern edge of Barracks 7. It had an irregular asymmetrical shape of medium size. The edge of the pond was lined with medium sized granite rocks. At least two types of concrete were visible, a fine grained dark brown concrete along the interior wall of the pond and a coarser grained dark gray concrete in the lip. A pipe spout was visible around the back of the pond, perhaps connecting the pond to running water. 57
Figure 16. Photo o f Pond 33 in Block 57, looking south. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 33 Pond 33 was located along the northern edge of Barracks 3. It was of a medium size and highly fragmented. The concrete lining of the pond was partially visible, but mostly buried. A high density of large granite rocks lay scattered through the center of the pond, with a few embedded in the lining. At least two types of concrete were visible, a finer dark gray concrete along the walls of the pond and a much coarser light gray concrete along the lip. 58
Butte Camp _ m m m —— M e t e r s /TS Block 57 • PondP«te» o 5 ,0 20 30 ------P 5* ''
Figure 17. Planview o f Block 57. Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, Geo Eye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 59
Block 58
Figure 18. Photo o f Pond 38 in Block 58, looking south. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 38 Pond 38 was located between Barracks 14 and the Mess Hall. It was a large pond with a fairly irregular and asymmetrical shape. The pond was fairly deep with long side walls and a concrete bottom. Along the upper edge of the pond, schist and granite stones were embedded into the concrete in a mosaic pattern. In some places, small smooth river pebbles were also embedded into the pond lip. A large flat granite rock protrudes from one end of the pond, reminiscent of the turtle rock documented by Beckwith at Manzanar (2013). The walls of the pond were composed of a light gray concrete, whilst the upper sections of the wall, which contained the mosaic stones, was made of a coarser dark brown concrete. A small hole in one end of the pond indicates an area where water was possibly poured or pumped in. 60
Figure 19. Photo o f Pond 39 in Block 58, looking north. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 39 Pond 39 was located along the western edge of Barracks 13. It is a medium size, long and narrow in shape. A barracks footing along the edge of the pond suggest that Barracks 13 was immediately adjacent. Most of the pond is buried beneath the sediment, with only a very minute section of the lip visible. The concrete used in the lip was coarse and light gray. A large dense collection of granite and schist rocks are scattered across the entirety of the pond. Subsurface probing confirmed a solid base throughout. 61
Figure 20. Photo o f Pond 40 in Block 58, looking northeast. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 40 Pond 40 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 12. It was a medium sized pond of irregular shape and a small island. The perimeter of the pond was lined with small granite stones embedded in a dark gray concrete. The island in the center of the pond was lined with schist rocks, with a barrack’s footing in its center, suggesting some portion of the pond was positioned beneath the building. Figure 21. Photo o f Pond 41 in Block 58, looking northeast. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 41 Pond 41 was located along the southern edge of Barracks 11. A barrack’s footing was located adjacent to the backside of the pond. The pond was of medium size and shaped like a bell. The flat end of the bell shape abutted the arracks footing and was completely undecorated. The curved side of the bell shape was lined with granite and schist stones. No concrete was visible, though probing confirmed a solid base throughout the pond. 63
Figure 22. Photo o f Pond 43 in Block 58, looking northwest. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 43 Pond 43 was located between Barracks 2 and Barracks 3. It was a small and extremely simple in design, resembling a bathtub with a rectangular shape and curved edges. The pond was similar to Pond 28. No ornamentation was apparent. The pond’s lining was composed of smooth, gray concrete and was cracked in several places. 64
Butte Camp _ „ . „ m mm — Meters /T?\ B lo c k 58 ® FondRatoe 0 5 10 20 30
Figure 23. Planview o f Block 58. Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 65
Block 59
Figure 24. Photo o f Pond 8 in Block 59, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, December 2014
Pond 8 Pond 8 was located along the southwest comer of Barracks 3. It was a medium sized pond, with a roughly square shape. An island was situated in the middle of the pond with a barracks footing and a standing schist stone. One comer of the pond was decorated with granite stones embedded in the concrete lining. The concrete of the pond was fairly granular and light gray. The sides and base of the pond appeared to have been covered with a second coat of concrete, much smoother and a light brown color. The island in the center of the pond is lined with granite stones embedded into the concrete in a mosaic pattern. A variety of granite stones are scattered around the island surrounding the barracks footing. Immediately adjacent to the pond was a broken scatter of concrete, with a child’s footprint visible on one slab. 66
Figure 25. Photo o f Pond 9 in Block 59, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, December 2014
Pond 9 Pond 9 was located along the western edge of Barracks 13. It was a medium sized pond in a gourd or key-hole shape, fat and round on one end and thinner on the opposite end. Two barracks footings were positioned in a line along the long edge of the pond. The pond was decorated with medium sized granite stones embedded into the concrete lining. The concrete was fairly granular and light gray. 67
Figure 26. Photo o f Pond 10 in Block 59, looking southwest. Size category small (0. lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, December 2014
Pond 10 Pond 10 was located near the northern edge of Barracks 12. It was a small pond with a heart shape. The edge of the pond was lined with small to medium sized granite rocks. On the upper edge of the heart shape, metal wire mesh was visible, though its purpose was unclear. At the lower apex of the heart shape, there was a distinct break in the concrete. The concrete was granular and light gray. The broken cross section of the concrete revealed a light brown sandy interior. Figure 27. Photo o f Pond 42 in Block 59, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 42 Pond 42 was located near the eastern edge of Barracks 9. It was a medium sized pond with an asymmetrical “L” shape. A barracks footing was visible along the comer of the pond. On the opposite side, a ring of small granite stones is visible in the soil, suggesting a landscaped area adjacent to the pond. A small number of granite stones were visible scattered near the edge of the pond, though not incorporated into its structure. Instead small river cobbles were embedded into the concrete along the lip of the pond. The concrete was fairly smooth and light gray. 69
Figure 28. Planview o f Block 59 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community. 70
Block 60
Figure 29. Photo o f Pond 6 in Block 60, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 6 Pond 6 was located along the northern edge of Barracks 5. It was composed of two distinct chambers separated by approximately 0.6m and running east-west. A barracks footing was visible next the southern side of the eastern chamber. The eastern chamber of the pond was a gourd or key-hole shape lined with medium sized granite stones. It was large and round at its eastern end and narrowed towards its western end. The remains of a glazed terracotta pipe were visible between the eastern chamber and the western chamber, suggesting a drain from one to another. The western chamber of the pond was a rectangular shape and completely undecorated. The remains of a wood lining along its edge were visible. A metal pipe protruded into the far edge of the western chamber. The concrete in both ponds was relatively smooth and light gray. 71
Figure 30. Photo o f Pond 7 in Block 60, looking south. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 7 Pond 7 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 6. It was composed of two chambers running north-south. The northern chamber was fairly large, long and narrow, and the southern chamber was fairly small. Two barracks footings were visible along the western edge of the pond. The northern chamber was lined with an eclectic variety of stones of differing sizes creating a highly idiosyncratic design. At its northern end, a large glazed ceramic pipe was incorporated into the lining, forming a comer to the pond.. A short section of the pond’s lip further down was decorated with small quartz stones in a mosaic pattern. At the midpoint of the pond a long thin granite rock jutted out over the edge of the pond next to a small granite boulder. At the chamber’s southern terminus, a drainage hole was visible along with the end of a terracotta pipe. The pipe connects to the smaller southern chamber, a fairly simple rectangular shape. The southern chamber was lined with small granite stones embedded into a light gray concrete. Immediately south of this chamber, a dense scatter of granite stones is visible next to a rectangular line of stones followed by a small ring of stones. These suggest a landscaped area next to the pond. 72
Butte Camp „ mm " ...... — — Meters _____ B l o c k 60 F eatu re 0 g 10 20 30 Q l ) t - * " "
Figure 31. Planview o f Block 60 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 73
Block 61
Figure 32. Photo o f Pond 1 in Block 61, looking south. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 1 Pond 1 was located on the northern edge of Barracks 10. It was a medium sized pond with a small island in its center. Its shape was composed of a circle with a small rectangle attached to it, looking somewhat like a ring with a stone in it. In the central island, a barracks footing was visible as well as a small metal pipe, likely a water source. The island was decorated with several granite stones. The edge of the pond was sporadically ornamented with medium sized granite stones. A second pipe protrudes horizontally from the edge of the pond, though it is unclear what kind of apparatus it may be connected with. The walls and lip of the pond were composed of granular, light gray concrete. 74
Figure 33. Photo o f Pond 2 in Block 61, looking southwest. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 2 Pond 2 was located along the northern edge of Barracks 12. It was small pond with a shape made from three conjoined circles. A barracks footing was visible against the back of the south western side of the pond. A variety of granite and schist stones were embedded into the concrete against the western side of the pond. One of the granite stones is distinct, being tall and thin, a possible crane rock in the style noted by Beckwith at Manzanar (2013). Next to this is a wide flat granite rock protruding over the edge of the pond, a possible turtle rock, again as described by Beckwith. Between two of the stones on the eastern southern side of the pond, the impression of a pipe in the concrete was visible, suggesting a possible drainage point. The eastern side of the pond was unadorned, appearing as simply exposed concrete. The concrete was a fairly smooth light gray color. 75
Figure 34. Photo o f Pond 3 in Block 61, looking southeast. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 3 Pond 3 was located near the southeast comer of Barracks 3. It was a large and complex pond, approximately 4.8m in length. A barracks footing was visible near its northern edge, suggesting it was situated close to the building. The pond was composed of four chambers, two parallel chambers at the northern end, one in the southern, and one along the western side. The northern chambers were shaped as two ovals separated by a thin concrete wall which has mostly crumbled, though its fragments and outline remained clearly visible. The chambers are surrounded by large granite stones, embedded into the concrete lining of the pond. The southern chamber was separated from these by a small island, topped with granite stones, and connected on either side to the pond walls by large flat granite stones. These flanking stones on both sides of the island create a bridge across the pond. The form of the southern chamber created triangle, and was ringed with medium sized granite stones. The western chamber of the pond was situated at the midpoint near the bridges and island. It was slightly offset from the rest of the pond and was fairly unadorned, set down into the earth and possibly covered at one point. Within the chamber the remains of a wooden structure were visible, forming a square box shape. 76
A metal pipe connected this to the southern chamber. Throughout the pond a coarse, crumbling light brown concrete was used.
Figure 35. Photo o f Pond 4 in Block 61, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 4 Pond 4 was located along the eastern side of Barracks 5. It was a medium sized pond of simple design, long, fairly thin running north-south, and pinched to be slightly narrower at its midpoint. A barracks footing was immediately adjacent to the western side of the pond at about the center. A series of medium sized granite stones were embedded in concrete along the eastern side of the pond. Much fewer stones adorned the western side. The concrete was smooth and light gray. 77
Figure 36. Photo o f Pond 5 in Block 61, looking southeast. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 5 Pond 5 was located along the south eastern comer of Barracks 6. It was a large and complex pond containing three primary chambers and a landscaped area immediately adjacent. The northern chamber of the pond was shaped like a large “D” with the two southern chambers shaped as parallel rectangles from the back of the northern one. An island with two small chambers and a rock bridge separated the northern half of the pond from the southern half. The northern chamber was ringed with medium to large granite stones, embedded into concrete. In the center of the chamber was an island formed from about five large granite stones piled on top of each other. The island which divided the northern and southern halves was a concrete circle, crowned with four large granite block forming a square. To the east of this island was a small chamber separated from the north by a rock wall, and from the south by a concrete wall with a distinct notch in the top. To the west of the island was a concrete wall with a notch through the center and topped with a large granite stone forming a bridge between the island and the pond edge. The purpose of the notches on either side of the island remain unclear. The southern half of the pond was divided into two parallel rectangular chambers, ringed with medium sized 78
granite stones. In the southeast chamber, two large flat granite stones protruded from the edge of the pond, and three large granite stones were arranged through the middle of the pond in a line. No such ornamentation was seen in the southwestern chamber. Most of the concrete observed in the pond was smooth light brown, with occasional spots of a light gray concrete overlaid on top. A narrow rock-lined path lead away from the southern end of the pond and a rock lined space was arranged to the east of the pond.
Figure 37. Photo o f Pond 53 in Block 61, looking south. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 53 Pond 53 was located along the western edge of Barracks 2. It was a small pond with a simple design, two conjoined circles. A barracks footing was visible approximately lm away from the pond lip. The pond was mostly buried beneath sediment, with only part of 79
the lip visible. Small river pebbles were embedded into the concrete and two small schist stones were also incorporated into the pond edge. No further ornamentation was visible.
Figure 38. Photo o f Pond 54 in Block 61, looking north. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 54 Pond 54 was located along the northern edge of Barracks 3. It was a small pond, shaped like an oval with a slightly pinched center. A barracks footing was visible immediately adjacent to the pond, and the broken remains of a concrete platform was on the opposite side. The pond was mostly buried with only a concrete lip visible above the soil. No ornamentation was present along the lip. A single granite stone stood inside the pond. The concrete was smooth and light gray. 80
a h —
Figure 39. Planview o f Block 61 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 81
Block 63
Figure 40. Photo o f Pond 11 in Block 63, looking west. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, December 2014
Pond 11 Pond 11 was located west of Barracks 13. It was a large pond, though very few of the structural components remain visible. The pond was composed of a dense scatter of large granite stones in a slight depression. Subsurface probing throughout the depression revealed a solid base. The granite was more densely concentrated along the western side of the depression, and a few small slabs of granular dark brown concrete were present in that area. One such slab was embedded with small granite and quartz stones in a mosaic pattern. The remains of a small channel lined with granite stones and filled with river pebbles was also visible. Along the eastern side of the pond a regularly spaced line of granite stones marked the approximate edge of the pond. At the northern end of the pond a single light blue marble remained on the surface, the only one observed in the survey. 82
Figure 41. Photo o f Pond 12 in Block 63, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, December 2014
Pond 12 Pond 12 was located to the north west of Barracks 13 and actually refers to two ponds, 0.6m apart. The ponds were located just north of two barracks footings. The pond closest to the footings, was fairly small and oval in shape running parallel to the footings. It was lined with small granite stones embedded into a granular light gray concrete. The second pond was located just north of the smaller one, and was a medium size. It was also an oval shape arranged parallel to the other pond. The southern side of the larger pond was lined with medium to large granite stones. The northern side of the pond lacked any ornamentation, with only fragments of concrete lining visible. At the eastern foot of the pond, a metal pipe protruded. The concrete used in the larger pond was granular and light brown. 83
Figure 42. Photo o f Pond 13 in Block 63, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 13 Pond 13 was located along the north eastern side of Barracks 14. It was a medium sized pond with a reverse “J” shape. The walls of the pond were raised approximately 30cm above the surface, and were composed of small and medium granite and schist stones embedded in a coarse light gray concrete. Along one side of the pond a smooth light gray concrete shelf protruded in. It was topped with the coarser concrete embedded with schist stones. 84
Figure 43. Photo o f Pond 14 in Block 63, looking west. Size category small (0. lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 14 Pond 14 was located along north eastern side of Barracks 14. It was a small pond with a simple design, slightly asymmetrical. One side of the pond is a straight line, with the opposite side being formed from two convex curves separated by a concave inset. The pond was mostly buried and partially fractured at one end. No additional ornamentation was visible. The concrete used in the pond was granular and light brown. 85
Figure 44. Photo o f Pond 44 in Block 63, looking west. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 44 Pond 44 was located east of Barracks 1. It was a large pond, though most of its structural elements were not visible. The pond was marked be one wall of medium sized granite stones embedded in concrete, lining an edge of a depression. Probing confirmed that a solid base lay beneath the entire extent of the depression. In the center of the pond, two large granite stones stood, one erect and one lying on its side. At one end of the wall a large flat rock protruded over the edge of the pond. Two large additional granite rocks stood behind the pond area outside of the depression. The concrete used in the pond lining was granular and light gray. 86
Figure 45. Photo o f Pond 45 in Block 63, looking south. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 45 Pond 45 was located north of Barracks 2. It was a small pond in a “D” shape. A barracks footing stood close to the pond approximately 30cm away. The remains of a concrete platform were visible several meters to the east of the pond. The Pond itself was composed of small granite, schist, and quartz embedded in concrete. A large cube-shaped granite stone stood outside the pond near its edge. The concrete used in the pond was highly granular and light brown. 87
Figure 46. Photo o f Pond 46 in Block 63, looking south. Size category small (0.lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 46 Pond 46 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 3. It was a small pond with an oval shape, pinched in the middle. A barracks footing stood near the pond, though slightly uprooted. The pond lining was composed of thin schist stones embedded in concrete. The lip of the pond also had schist stones protruding from the concrete lip. Large quantities of schist and concrete were visible inside the pond, suggesting it had been highly disturbed. The concrete was granular and light brown. Figure 47. Photo o f Pond 47 in Block 63, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 47 Pond 47 was located on the southwest comer of Barracks 4. It was a medium sized pond, long and relatively thin. One side of the pond was fairly straight with some slight curves, while the opposing side had two distinct convex curves protruding. The walls of the pond were composed of a smooth light gray concrete. The lip of the pond was covered with a smooth light brown concrete. In places an additional gray concrete lining could be seen over the light brown addition. Small granite stones and river cobles surrounded the pond, though appeared unattached. At the midpoint of the pond a rectangular concrete block stood erect, suggesting and additional structural element connected to it. 89
Figure 48. Photo o f Pond 48 in Block 63, looking north. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 48 Pond 48 was located along the southeast comer of Barracks 6. It was a large pond though mostly buried. A barracks footing was immediately adjacent to the pond. A fractured perimeter of medium sized granite stones traced the outlines of a rectangle surrounding a faint depression. Occasional bits of granular light brown concrete were also visible around the edges of the pond. In the center of the pond a broken glazed ceramic pipe stood erect. 90
Figure 49. Photo o f Pond 49 in Block 63, looking west. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 49 Pond 49 was located next to the northwest comer of Barracks 8. It contained a large chamber with and island in its center and a river leading towards it running north-south. A barracks footing stood to the eastern side of the river component. The entirety of the pond structure was lined with small to medium sized granite stones on the lip, often with a second layer of schist embedded below. At the rivers southern terminus a concrete circle was visible, possibly where a water pipe was positioned. At the river’s northern end a large circular hole connected the river to the large chamber. The island in the center of the pond was roughly circular in shape and approximately lm in diameter. The upper portion of the island was covered with small granite stones in a mosaic pattern. At the northern tip of the pond chamber, two large flat granite stones protruded over the edge of the pond. The walls of the pond were composed of a smooth light gray concrete. 91
Figure 50. Photo o f Pond 50 in Block 63, looking south. Size category small (0.lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 50 Pond 50 was located along the eastern side of Barracks 8. It was a small pond, roughly circular in shape. A barracks footing stood immediately adjacent to the pond. A single large cube shaped granite stone stood next to the pond. A small slab of concrete embedded with river pebbles also lay near the edge of the pond. The pond itself was unadorned and composed of a granular light brown concrete. 92
Figure 51, Photo o f Pond 51 in Block 63, looking south. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 51 Pond 51 was located next to the southwest comer of Barracks 8. It was a medium sized pond, though it appeared to be cut in half forming a wide “C” shape. Impressions in the concrete lining of the pond suggest that another component, perhaps wooden boards, was incorporated into its structure. The ponds lip was textured to be highly irregular though unadorned with the exception of a few medium sized granite stones embedded within it. The walls of the pond were composed of a smooth light gray concrete, and covered on the top with an additional coating of cement. 93
Figure 52. Photo o f Pond 52 in Block 63, looking west. Size category small (0. lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 52 Pond 52 was located between Barracks 10 and Barracks 11. It was a small pond with a simple oval shape. The pond’s walls were composed of a granular light brown cement and covered with small granite stones lining the entirety of its perimeter. At one end of the pond a large granite stone was placed. Granite stones arranged in lines surrounding the pond suggested further landscaping efforts. Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS the and swisstopo, IGP, IGN, Aerogrid, Getmapping, USGS, USD FSA, A GeoEye, DS, CNES/Airbus Geographies, Figure 53. 53. Figure Planview o f Block 63 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar DigitalGlobe, Esri, source: image Aerial Ozawa, Koji by 63 Drawn f Block o Planview rTt*mh Screed Butte Camp _ „ . _ _ . „ _ Camp Butte ok6 # Ffdeh 5 0 0 0 y Q 30 20 10 5 0 FofldFeah” # 63 lock B FbcdSO User Community User m
m
.. —■Mtr /TT\ ■ Meters —— Pofld 48 Pofld # Possd 46 Possd # Po&d44 ------5’”' P 94 95
Block 64
Figure 54. Photo o f Pond 15 in Block 64, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 15 was located near the eastern edge of Barracks 3. It was a medium sized pond with a highly irregular shape and asymmetrical in design. A barrack’s footing was located immediately adjacent to the pond, and two additional barracks footings were inside the pond, though they appeared to have been deposited after the camp was deconstructed. The pond was lined with a smooth gray concrete with rounded edges. The portion closest to the barracks footing was covered with small and medium sized schist and granite stones. The opposing side contained only a few intermittently spaced granite stones and a small wooden post embedded in the concrete. 96
Figure 55. Planview o f Block 64 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 97
Block 65
Figure 56. Photo o f Pond 16 in Block 65, looking north. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 16 Pond 16 located between Barracks 2 and Barracks 1. It was a large and extremely complex pond. The basic shape of the pond was a rectangle encircled by a concrete path. A cement path approached the pond from the south. Upon reaching the outer ring, the path was flanked by two rounded pedestals on either side, composed of concrete with small mosaicked schist stones embedded. These were broken on the top, exposing a flexible metal tube inside, which may have held water or electrical wires. The pond itself was rectangular with an island in its center. Planted within the island was a saguaro cactus which stood at least 1 Om high. The height of the saguaro indicates that it was present in the pond at the time of its construction. A second smaller cactus is also present on the island though it was unclear as to the age of this one. No other examples of either cactus were observed throughout the camp survey suggesting their intentional planting. The island was surrounded with schist stones embedded in concrete forming a lining. Two metal pipes stood in the island perhaps for water. The remains of a concrete channel wound around the island, though it was highly fractured in places. A wooden stump, 98
divided in two, held this channel in one place. In another place the channel was held by a cement sculpture shaped like a tree branch. The pond itself was lined with schist and granite stones embedded in concrete. Between the edges of the pond and the concrete path, thousands of smooth river pebbles were scattered. South and slightly west of the pond a small “Y” shaped pedestal sat, the possible supports for a bench. The majority of the concrete used in the pond structure was a granular light gray variety, with a granular light brown type used in some spots.
Figure 57. Photo o f Pond 17 in Block 65, looking northeast. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 17 Pond 17 was located between Barracks 1 and the block’s Recreation Hall. The pond was small sized and had a nearly perfect circular shape. The pond had a flat bottom and raised edges. The side walls of the pond were composed of two layers of rocks embedded in a granular light gray cement. The top layer was made of medium sized granite stones, while the lower layer was composed of a variety of small granite stones. Two large granite stones were placed on direct opposite sides of the pond incorporated into the lining. 99
Figure 58. Planview o f Block 65 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 100
Block 66
Figure 59. Photo o f Pond 18 in Block 66, looking east. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 18 Pond 18 was located to the north of Barracks 9. It was a small pond with an asymmetrical shape. A barrack’s footing stood adjacent to the pond and a large pit behind the pond with two more barrack’s footings suggests a basement was constructed beneath Barracks 9. The pond was divided into two chambers by two narrow schist stones placed across its center. Most of the pond’s lining was composed of undecorated smooth light gray concrete. Between the pond and the footing, a variety of granite and schist stones stood jumbled around as well as an erect metal pipe. 101
Figure 60. Photo o f Pond 19 in Block 66, looking west. Size category small (0.lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 19 Pond 19 was located to the north of Barracks 10. It was a small pond with a relatively simple shape, like a bathtub. At the pond’s midpoint was a concrete protrusion with a small schist stone projecting out. A granite stone was embedded into the lip at one end. The rest of the pond was fairly unadorned, though several granite and schist stones were scattered nearby. The pond was composed of a granular light gray concrete. 102
Figure 61. Photo o f Pond 20 in Block 66, looking east. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 20 Pond 20 was located to the north of Barracks 4. It was a small pond with a shape of two conjoined circles. Most of the pond was buried, though the lip was still visible. Several schist stones were embedded in the concrete of the lip. In a few places small quartz stones were embedded into the concrete in a mosaic pattern. A small collection of schist, granite and quartz rocks were placed in the ground next to the pond, forming a small rock garden. 103
Figure 62. Photo o f Pond 21 in Block 66, looking south. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 21 Pond 21 was located on the eastern edge of Barracks 3. It was a medium sized pond with an irregular shape. A barrack’s footing stood immediately adjacent to the pond’s edge. The pond was mostly buried with only its lip visible on the surface. The lip was composed of small quartz stones embedded in granular light gray concrete. Several medium sized granite stones were incorporated into the ponds lining on the side closest to the footings. A concrete circle was placed in the middle of the pond, possible an island. 104
Figure 63. Photo o f Pond 25 in Block 66, looking east. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 25 Pond 25 was located along the eastern edge of Barracks 9. It was a medium sized pond, long and narrow. A barrack’s footing was placed immediately adjacent to the pond. Several small schist stones were clustered between the edge of the pond and the footing. The majority of the pond was buried with only the lip visible. The lip of the pond was composed of granular light brown concrete overlaid with a light gray cement in places. Occasional granite stones were visible embedded into the pond lining. 105
Figure 64. Photo o f Pond 26 in Block 66, looking east. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 26 Pond 26 was located on the southwest comer of Barracks 9. It was a small sized pond with a simple shape of an oval pinched in its center. The pond was almost completely buried with only the faint edges of its lip visible. Probing confirmed that the pond contained a solid base throughout. The lip of the pod was composed of a light gray concrete with occasional small granite stones and river pebbles embedded in it. 106
Figure 65. Photo o f Pond 27in Block 66, looking north. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 27 Pond 27 was located to the north of Barracks 11. It was a small pond and appeared to have an oval shape though it was highly fragmented. The section of the pond discemable was composed of a granular dark gray concrete with a few schist and granite stones embedded in it. The edge of the pond formed a half circle but was then broken beyond recognition. Figure 66. Photo o f Pond 37 in Block 66, looking north. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 37 Pond 37 was located near the southeast comer of Barracks 8. It was a medium sized pond and was almost completely buried. The only section which remained visible was a scatter of medium and large granite stones and a few chunks of concrete debris. Subsurface probing revealed the presence of a solid base beneath the scatter of stones suggesting a pond was constructed. The cement debris visible on the surface was smooth and light 108
Pond 25
. —
Butte Camp _ _ . _ m m =— Meters /T?\ Block 66 ® Pond Rato 0 5 t0 20 30
Figure 67. Planview o f Block 66 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 109
Block 72
Figure 68. Photo o f Pond 55 in Block 72, looking north. Size category small (0.lm-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 55 Pond 55 was located along the western edge of Barracks 11. It was a small pond which curved around a barracks footing to form a thin “L” shape. The pond was mostly buried and covered with vegetation. A scatter of small to medium sized granite stones was visible in a slight depression. A small section of the pond’s lip was also visible and revealed light gray granular cement with a schist stone embedded in it. The stones were more densely concentrated on the side of the pond closest to the barrack’s footing. 110
Figure 69. Photo o f Pond 56 in Block 72, looking west. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 56 Pond 56 was located near the eastern side of the Block’s Mess Hall. It was largely obscured by thick vegetation making recording of its features difficult. The pond stood in front of the remains of the Mess Halls’ concrete foundation. It was a large pond and appeared to have curving edges which ran north south along the side of the Mess Hall. Several extremely large granite blocks were visible in the center of the pond with a few embedded into the concrete lining. The concrete appeared to be mostly granular and light gray though in places additions of light brown concrete were observed. I l l
Figure 70. Photo o f Pond 57 in Block 72, looking north. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 57 Pond 57 was located along the northeast comer of Barracks 3. It was medium sized irregularly shaped pond and covered in thick vegetation. The pond lining was composed of medium to large conglomerate rocks placed into granular light brown concrete. A few medium sized granite stones were also seen in the pond’s lining. The conglomerate rocks seemed to be composed of variously sized granite stones embedded in ligh t brown or light gray cement. It was unclear whether these were naturally occurring rocks or human constructions. 112
Figure 71. Photo o f Pond 58 in Block 72, looking southeast. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 58 Pond 58 was located at the midpoint of the western edge of Barracks 5. It was a mediums sized “L” shaped pond. A large concentration of river pebbles and broken concrete slabs were located close to the pond though it is unclear what this debris was. The pond itself was composed of granite stones and flat conglomerate rocks embedded in a concrete lining. The conglomerate rocks were similar to those observed in Pond 57 and were composed of small granite and schist stones in a light gray cement. Notably all of the conglomerate rocks were flat, while those in Pond 57 ranged in shape. 113
Figure 72. Photo o f Pond 59 in Block 72, looking north. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 59 Pond 59 was located between northern section of Barracks 5 and Barracks 6. It was a medium sized pond but narrow. It was divided into two chambers, one long, one short and ran parallel to a small slope, with one side of the pond on slightly higher ground than the other. The pond was incredibly sturdy and intact. The pond’s wall on the high side was composed of medium sized granite stones all approximately the same shape and size. They were embedded in concrete with the top layer projecting out of the concrete slightly. The low side of the pond was framed by a small lip with loosely arranged granite and schist stones. The concrete used in the pond was granular and dark brown. A short wall divided the longer chamber from the shorter chamber. 114
Figure 73. Photo o f Pond 60 in Block 72, looking south. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 60 Pond 60 was located to the north of Barracks 6. It was small pond, mostly buried beneath the soil, and in a narrow oval shape. A barrack’s footing stood immediately adjacent to the pond. A small portion of the lip of the pond was visible. It was composed of small schist and granite stones set into a smooth light gray concrete. 115
Figure 74. Planview o f Block 72 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 116
Block 73
Figure 75. Photo o f Pond 61 in Block 73, looking west. Size category medium (3.0m-5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 61 Pond 61 was located to the north of Barracks 8. It should be noted that this part of the block sat on a small hill covered in schist stones. Sections of the hill were terraced, possible to hold barracks. The pond was a medium size and was long and narrow. Two barrack’s footings sat near to the pond with one being approximately lm away. Its walls were formed from fairly uniform medium sized granite stones embedded into a light gray concrete. Several medium sized granite stones were arranged in lines near the pond suggesting further landscaped area. 117
Figure 76. Planview o f Block 73 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USDA FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 118
Block 74
Figure 77. Photo o f Pond 62 in Block 74, looking west. Size category small (0.1m-2.9m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 62 Pond 62 was located near the northwest comer of Barracks 14. It was a small pond but highly fractured and fragmented. Large portions were buried or destroyed leaving only a faint outline. The elements that remained were unadorned concrete slabs arranged in an oval shape. Subsurface probing confirmed that the base of the pond remained intact throughout. 119
Figure 78. Photo o f Pond 63 in Block 74, looking east. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 63 Pond 63 was located along the western edge of the Block’s Mess Hall. It was a large pond, though one half of it was covered in thick vegetation. It ran parallel along the concrete foundation of the Mess Hall. The pond was ringed with a perimeter of medium sized schist stones set into a light gray concrete. One large granite stone stood along its southern edge. At least two islands were formed from mounds within the pond. These were lined with medium to small schist stones. One of the islands was formed from a granular light brown concrete, though soil sat on top of both of them. Large granite stones were arranged on both islands. 120
Figure 79. Photo o f Pond 64in Block 74, looking north. Size category large (greater than 5.0m). Photograph by Koji Ozawa, January 2015
Pond 64 Pond 64 was located along the western edge of Barracks 2. It was a large pond formed from two conjoined circles and a larger oval arranged in a line. All three shapes were lined with fairly jagged pieces of schist set into a smooth light gray concrete. A small bridge was built across the pond, dividing the two circles from the larger oval. The bridge was made from several medium sized schist stones held together with cement. A gap was present in the lining at one end of the pond, though it is unclear whether this was due to intentional design or post depositional processes. 121
Figure 80. Planview o f Block 74 Drawn by Koji Ozawa, Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 122
4.5- Summary Below is a summary of the results of the survey at Gila River. In total 66 garden ponds were documented and mapped. The tables below indicate the block each pond was found in, its type, relative size and a brief description of its shape. For all Barracks Gardens, the associated barracks is indicated as well as the ponds position in relation to that barrack. 123
Block Pond Type Size Shape Barracks Position 22 Barracks Garden Small Two Ovals 1 North
55 23 Open Space Garden Large Square - - 24 Barracks Garden Large Square 3 East 34 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 3 East 56 35 Barracks Garden Medium Oval 3 East 36 Barracks Garden Small Two Circles 2 East
28 Open Space Garden Small Bathtub - - 29 Barracks Garden Small Rectangle 2 South 30 Barracks Garden Medium Rectangle 9 East 57 31 Open Space Garden Small Semi-Circle - - 32 Barracks Garden Medium Irregular 7 East
33 Open Space Garden Medium Long Thin - -
38 Open Space Garden Large Irregular - - 39 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 13 West 58 40 Barracks Garden Medium Irregular 12 East 41 Barracks Garden Medium Bell Shaped 11 South 43 Open Space Garden Small Bathtub - - 8 Barracks Garden Medium Square 3 West 9 Barracks Garden Medium Keyhole 13 East 59 10 Open Space Garden Small Heart - - 42 Barracks Garden Medium "L" 9 East 6 Barracks Garden Medium Keyhole 5 North 60 7 Barracks Garden Large Long Thin 6 East 1 Barracks Garden Medium Circle 10 North 2 Barracks Garden Small Three Circles 12 North 3 Barracks Garden Large Long Wide 3 South 61 4 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 5 East 5 Barracks Garden Large Two Triangles 6 East 53 Barracks Garden Small Two Circles 2 East 54 Barracks Garden Small Pinched Oval 3 North Table 1. Table summarizing survey results for Blocks 55 through 61 124
Block Pond Type Size Shape Barracks Position
11 Open Space Garden Large Irregular - - 12 Barracks Garden Medium Two Ponds 13 North
13 Open Space Garden Medium "J" - -
14 Open Space Garden Small Asymmetrical - -
44 Open Space Garden Large Irregular - - 45 Barracks Garden Small no- 2 North 63 46 Barracks Garden Small Oval 3 East 47 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 4 West 48 Barracks Garden Large Rectangle 6 East 49 Barracks Garden Large Square 8 West 50 Barracks Garden Small Circle 8 East
51 Open Space Garden Medium "C" - -
52 Open Space Garden Small Oval - - 64 15 Barracks Garden Medium Irregular 3 East
16 Open Space Garden Large Irregular - - 65 17 Open Space Garden Small Circle - - 18 Barracks Garden Small Asymmetrical 9 North
19 Open Space Garden Small Bathtub - - 20 Open Space Garden Small Two Circles - - 21 Barracks Garden Medium Irregular 3 East 66 25 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 9 East 26 Barracks Garden Small Oval 9 West 27 Open Space Garden Small Oval 11 - 37 Barracks Garden Medium Irregular 8 East 55 Barracks Garden Small "L» 11 West 56 Mess Hall Large Large - - 57 Open Space Garden Medium Irregular - - 72 58 Barracks Garden Medium "L" 5 East 59 Open Space Garden Medium Long Thin - - 60 Barracks Garden Small Oval 6 North 73 61 Barracks Garden Medium Long Thin 8 North 62 Open Space Garden Small Oval -- 74 63 Mess Hall Large Rectangle - West 64 Barracks Garden Large Two Circles 2 East Table 2. Table summarizing the survey results fo r Blocks 63 through 74 125
Chapter 5- Analysis of Gardens As has been seen, garden ponds at Gila River took a wide variety of forms aand structures. These present a particular challenge of interpretation. In this chapter I will address the results outlined from Chapter 4. Utilizing a combination of these results, archival research, comparisons with gardens built at Manzanar and Amache, and oral histories, I will attempt to reach some conclusions about the construction and use of gardens at Gila River. First I will discuss the manner in which gardens were constructed and the different materials integrated into their structure. I will then consider the placement of gardens throughout the blocks and in relation to barracks and the implications of this positioning. After this I will briefly discuss the challenges in examining the design of gardens in relation to formal Japanese gardens. Finally I will address the manner in which gardens were physically interacted with in the camp. In this way I will provide a detailed look at gardens at Gila River and provide the foundation with which they can be further interpreted in Chapter 6.
5.1 Garden Construction Initial conditions at Gila seemed fairly dire to residents. The first wave of incarcerees arrived in late July of 1942, with over 11,000 people in the camps by October (WRA 1945:11). At this time, the camp was only partially finished, barracks were overcrowded as some still needed to be constructed. Temperatures were extreme in the height of summer and dust storms raged as no shrubbery was present to keep dust down (WRA 1945:12). Trenches crisscrossed the camp as utilities were still being installed and many residents had no access to running water (Midori 1945:45). Many people remembered feeling intimidated and crestfallen when presented with these harsh conditions (Ekinaka 1945:27; Ikeda 1945:91). Ken Hayashi in an oral history remembers visiting Gila with his father many years after the camp closed. The remains of some of the ditches were still present and upon seeing them for the first time after so many years, 126
his father wept. When asked why he was crying, his father replied that he remembered their first arrival at Gila and being afraid that the ditches were for mass burials (Hayashi 2015). The camps were viewed as hostile alien environments. The doubts and uncertainties of the evacuation process, coupled with rumors and hostilities faced from before incarceration, exacerbated fears of the Japanese Americans. It is in this context that gardens began to be built within the camps. The precise nature of the construction of gardens at Gila River is currently unknown. According to newspaper accounts as well as some reports from the JERS, they were constructed not long after the opening of the camp. The first issue of the Gila News- Courier features a garden built in Block 56 and alludes to others constructed throughout the camp (News-Courier September 12, 1942:4). By November JERS anthropologist Spencer (1942c:21) noted that they have proliferated throughout the camp.
Figure 81. Cactus Garden outside Barracks at Gila River, 1943. Photograph by Toyo Miyatake, reproduced with permissions o f Toyo Miyatake Studios 127
Figure 82. Pond 16 at Gila River, with Saguaro Cactus. Photograph by Koji Ozawa
There appear to have been three sources for plant materials at Gila River. Some incarcerees may have brought their own seeds to the camp. In an oral history Kay Matsuoka (1999) speculates that people packed seeds with them to plant gardens. Many people apparently incorporated local flora such as cactus and sage brush into their gardens. In one of his reports, Spencer (1942d:21) mentioned the transplanting of cactus into gardens. Cactuses can be seen in Toyo Miyatake’s photograph of a barrack’s garden, with many varieties displayed (Figure 81). The original caption for this image notes that incarcerees would gather such plants in early expeditions around the Gila area (Eaton 1952:56). The incorporation of a saguaro cactus into Pond 16 was the only physical indication of this practice that was noted in the survey (Figure 82). It is unclear whether the second, smaller cactus also dates to the time of Butte Camp’s operation. Finally, incarcerees purchased seeds through catalogues and occasionally with WRA support. A landscaping department was erected by the WRA administration with the express purpose of distributing seeds for lawns and various other flower to incarcerees (News-Courier October 24, 1942:3). Figure 83. Burt, Raymond and Mary Doi in front o f their Barracks at Gila River, 1943. Behind them is a garden filled with castor bean plants. Photographer unknown, Ozawa Family Collection
Interestingly, in The Great Betrayal, Gimder and Loftis claim that castor beans were initially planted as a cash crop at Gila, but were abandoned after farmers complained that the cheap labor from the camps would drive down prices. As a result, the plants supposedly grew wild around the center (Grinder and Loftis 1969:234). However, historic photographs reveal castor bean plants intentionally incorporated into gardens around barracks (Figure 83). Castor bean plants also featured prominently in all of the oral histories I conducted when discussing gardens grown and managed by incarcerees.
Figure 84. From left to right, Granite, Schist, Quartz and River Cobbles incorporated into garden ponds at Gila River. Photographs by Koji Ozawa 129
Rocks were used throughout many garden features, both in ponds as well as incorporated into general landscaping. Four types of rocks were commonly recorded in the survey: granite, schist, quartz and river cobbles (Figure 84). The local geology was primarily composed of gravel, sand and silt though there were exposed granite and schist deposits close to both Canal and Butte Camp (Lillquist 2007:464). Canal camp sat on the banks of an active canal, where presumably river cobbles could have been collected. It is unclear where the quartz incorporated into features was procured. Y.Okuno (1942- 1945:12), an informant of the anthropologist Robert Spencer, wrote that many incarcerees would venture into the surrounding areas and collect stones from the nearby mountains and desert. Concrete was another key element incorporated into garden design at Gila River, especially in regards to ponds. Robert Spencer (1942c:22) in one of his early reports noted that incarcerees would “beg borrow or steal,” bags of cement for the construction of their garden ponds. The theft of materials was apparently a common occurrence at Gila, with the camp’s newspaper commonly reporting on the theft of government items such as cement and lumber (Madden 1969:147). Incarceree’s recollections of the camp after resettlement often mentioned the need to steal construction materials from the administration in order to build improvements onto their barracks (Sato 1945:43).
Figure 85. Two examples o f concrete utilized at Gila River. Color and aggregate size varies widely. Photograph by Koji Ozawa 130
When surveying in 2015, we observed that the color and varieties of concrete ranged widely across the camp. The color of concrete ranged from brown to gray with various shades of both in between (Figures 85). Forty-two ponds were composed of varieties of gray concrete, 15 had brown concrete and seven had both types of concrete used in their construction. The structural integrity of the concrete across the blocks similarly ranged with some ponds fairly well preserved, whist others were highly fractured and crumbling (Figure 86). Concrete is composed of cement mixed with sand and often some type of aggregate. The differing types of concrete were found not only across the entire survey area but within individual blocks. No cluster of concrete colors or textures was noted. Furthermore some ponds had multiple types of concrete incorporated into their structure. The range in colors and textures of concrete suggests that incarcerees were mixing their own concrete concoctions on small individual scales of production. In other words there does not seem to be a large scale standardized method of producing concrete. Instead people seem to have been making concrete ad hoc or within small groups.
Figure 86. Pond 27, classified as a small pond, with highly fractured and fragmented structure. Looking north. Photograph by Koji Ozawa 131
Water was an important aspect of gardens at Gila. Water was needed to both grow and sustain plant life but also to fill ponds and to keep them filled. This proved to be challenging as water shortages plagued the Gila River camp throughout its operation. On numerous occasions the Gila News-Courier called for a decrease in water usage by residents due to a lack of supply (News-Courier March 25, 1943:1, June 27, 1945:1). People were called upon to help construct additional infrastructure to expand the storage capacity at Butte Camp (New-Courier May 29, 1943:1, June 10, 1943:4). And yet curiously, gardens and ponds proliferated. Five of the ponds observed at Gila contained the remains of water pipes, potentially pumping water directly into the features. Spencer (1942:22) commented that many incarcerees had transported hoses with them into the camp specifically to fill ponds. In an oral history, Shigeko Ozawa (2014) recalled reusing water from the laundry room in order to water the gardens around her barracks.
5.2 Gardens Placement Three types of garden areas were observed at Butte Camp: barracks gardens, open space gardens, and Mess Hall Gardens. The distinction between these three designations relies on their relationship to buildings. I am defining barracks gardens as those which closely abutted barracks, open space gardens as those which sat between barracks (ie not bordering on the sides of barracks) or other assorted buildings, and Mess Hall gardens as those which sat adjacent to Mess Halls. I make these distinctions as I contend that the placement of gardens may suggest something about the people associated with them.
Placement Designation Garden Ponds Barracks Gardens 42 Open Space Gardens 21 Mess Hall Gardens 2
Table 3. Table showing the number o f different types o f gardens based upon pond position 132
Barracks gardens are those which closely abutted barracks. In the survey of Butte camp, 32 garden ponds were found to incorporate barracks footings into their design. Furthermore, georectified mapping of the camp’s plans suggests that an additional nine ponds sat next to barracks, for a total of 42 barracks gardens (Table 3). Curiously 22 of these ponds have been found to border the eastern side of barracks, with far fewer on other sides (Table 4). It is unclear whether the positioning of these ponds on the eastern sides of barracks was done for practical reasons or due to aesthetic or cultural preference. Twenty gardens were classified as open space gardens as they contained ponds that did not directly border barracks. Of these, seven were located between residential barracks while the other 13 were along the edges of blocks or between barracks and Recreational or Mess Halls. Finally two gardens were located next to Mess Halls. These gardens were fairly large and complex.
Position Number of Ponds North 10 South 3 East 22 West 7 Table 4. Table showing the Position o f Garden ponds in relation to Barracks This placement of ponds next to barracks suggests that they were constructed by the residents of said barracks, or at least the residents of these barracks took part in their construction. This has been the situation found at both Manzanar and Amache (Burton 2015; Garrison 2015). Ng has suggested that the positioning of some gardens along the length of the barracks or between two barracks at Manzanar suggests intention for community enjoyment. These gardens would have traversed the delineated zones between apartments within the barracks (Ng 2014:73). This would appear to be an appropriate way to interpret the positioning of several of the gardens documented at Gila River, especially the open space gardens. The Mess Hall gardens recorded at Manzanar 133
have all been similarly interpreted as being the product of multiple collaborators and for the enjoyment of many (Burton 2015:23-32). The size and placement of the two Mess Hall gardens once more agrees with this idea. However, there are several barracks which have fairly small garden pond associated with them, or multiple features.
I Meters 0 5 10 20 30
Figure 87. Map o f Block 66, Barracks 3 with Pond 3 and Pond 54 adjacent. Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNESfAirbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community
I Meters 0 5 10 20 30
Figure 88. Map o f Block 63, Barracks 8 with Pond 49, Pond 50 and Pond 51 adjacent. Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, GeoEye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community 134
0 5 10 20 30
Figure 89. Map o f Block 66, Barracks 9 with Pond 18, Pond 25 and Pond 26 adjacent. Aerial image source: Esri, DigitalGlobe, Earthstar Geographies, CNES/Airbus DS, Geo Eye, USD A FSA, USGS, Getmapping, Aero grid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS User Community
Three barracks in Butte Camp had multiple gardens adjacent to them (Figures 87- 89). Barracks 61-3 has two garden ponds associated with it (Pond 3 and Pond 54); barracks 63-8 has three ponds associated with it (Pond 49, Pond 50 and Pond 51); barracks 66-9 has three ponds associated with it (Pond 18, Pond 25 and Pond 26). In all three cases pond features are situated on opposite sides of the barracks, suggesting that they were not part of a single garden. In a life history recorded in 1943, Akira Saruwatari (1943:34) tells of his construction of a porch outside of his barracks and planting a lawn. What is particularly intriguing is his neighbor’s landscaping efforts. Saruwatari (1943:34) said his neighbor, “infringed upon our property and this burnt my wife up because she wanted the space for a garden.” This comment suggests that some incarcerees considered the areas outside of their barracks to be their property and not communal space for communal use. The presence of multiple garden features around barracks may then hint at the segmentation of the property around the barracks. Different people living in the four apartments of a barracks may have landscaped the area next to their particular apartment according to their own desires, uses and enjoyments. Infringements into these personal spaces were, in the case of the Saruwataris anyways, unwelcome. The presence of small ponds next to barracks or even multiple ponds next to barracks does not mean that they could not have been created for community enjoyment or that they were not join ventures. However, when examined within the context of the 135
archival record and statements such as the one made by Saruwatari, this interpretation certainly becomes plausible. At the very least it complicates our understanding of the spatial dynamics of gardens as places which may demark property and ownership. Although some gardens were undoubtedly created by community groups and enjoyed as public spaces or at least public displays, some were not. The placement of multiple garden ponds next to barracks hints at this possibility.
5.3 Garden Design Analyzing the designs of gardens at Gila River is particularly difficult as they were highly variable. There appear to have been gardens with ponds incorporated, flower gardens, cactus gardens, rock gardens and grass lawns. Of these, only those with ponds were documented in the archaeological survey of the camp. Work done at Amache suggests that other garden attributes can be assessed using a variety of techniques including excavation, ground penetrating radar and archaeobotany (Clark 2016:3). However such techniques and tools of analysis remained unavailable within the scope of this project. As discussed in Chapter 3, Ronald Beckwith at Manzanar identified a variety of specific attributes which alluded to traditional Japanese garden design. These included the presence of crane and turtle rocks as well as other symbolic stone placements (Beckwith 2013:279-281). Beckwith (2013:282) also noted in some gardens an adherence to principles of geologic zones and the aesthetic theme of wabi-sabi, an appreciation for the transience of time. In a similar vein, David Garrison (2015:97) has attempted to apply attributes of traditional Japanese design to entryway gardens at Amache. It should be noted that at Manzanar the biographies of many of the garden builders there have been investigated (Burton 2015:89-102). These biographies have revealed that many of these people had experience with designing Japanese-style gardens before the war. Similarly, 136
some of the individuals associated with gardens at Amache had some garden construction experience, though to what degree remains unclear (Garrison 2015:88-93). In contrast to these analyses of gardens I have chosen not to seek to identify supposedly traditional Japanese garden design elements. Currently there has not been adequate biographical research done on the incarcerees to determine whether or not individuals at the camp had an in depth knowledge of traditional garden design. According to WRA statistics, 761 incarcerees at Gila River had some type of gardening occupation listed as their primary work (NARA 1989). The camp contained the third largest number of professional gardeners recorded of all of WRA administered camps (Burton 2015:82). However, employment within the gardening sector was not any guarantee that one was well acquainted with traditional garden design. Many Japanese Americans that were employed in gardening were maintenance gardeners, a trade which consisted of lawn mowing, tree cutting, watering plants and trash removal (Tsukashima 2000:67). The entry into this field required relatively little startup capital and was an easy transition for many Japanese Americans which were pushed out of farming due to Alien Land Laws (Tsuchida 1984:441). Agricultural knowledge and low costs allowed them to pursue work, especially in the Southern California climate which required year-round constant upkeep in gardens (Tsuchida 1984:435). The knowledge required for entry into this field thus did not require any specialized knowledge in traditional Japanese garden design, a field with a rich and complex history. It would therefore be difficult to infer that the large number of professional gardeners recorded at Gila River equated to a large number of individuals with this expertise. As such it is impossible to currently know what gardens at Gila River were fashioned with these techniques and designs in mind, and what may be simply interpretive leaps imposed upon the past. Finally I would like to once more highlight the range of designs observed in the survey of gardens ponds. Throughout the residential barracks, at least 20 different pond 137
shapes were evident with ranges in size and adornment. Some garden ponds were fairly symmetrical, whilst others were high asymmetrical. Some were small and simple, while other were large and complex. There appeared to be no commonly reoccurring patterns or styles of construction. Instead the gardens at Gila River contained an eclectic mix of shapes and designs.
5.4 Garden Interactions The ways which people regularly used gardens is an integral aspect to understanding their role within the camp. As sociologist Michel Conan (2003) has pointed out, gardens are ultimately places which were utilized and interacted with, rather than simply static designs. The gardens at Gila River were used in a variety of manners as attested to in the archival, oral historical and archaeological records. It is of course inconceivable to capture everyway that every garden was utilized during its lifetime. However it is possible to speak of some broad patterns of usage. In this final section of analysis I will describe three ways which gardens were interacted with: as places to be maintained, as playgrounds and as functional devices.
Figure 90. Gila River Toy &Game Loan. A tree is visible in front o f the building on the right and a man can be seen watering plants along the left side o f the building. Photographer unknown, Ozawa Family Collection 138
Figure 91. A Variety o f Trees and plants visible surrounding a Barracks Garden. Photograph by Toyo Miyatake, reproduced with permission o f Toyo Miyatake Studio
The gardens built at the incarceration camps were not static entities. At the bare minimum they required continual maintenance from watering and trimming plants, to feeding the fish which incarcerees put inside of ponds. Robert Spencer (1942a: 17) in a report on recreational activities inside of Gila River, remarked that gardens and garden maintenance are great sources of pleasure amongst older male unemployed Issei. He wrote that, “now that grass seed is being distributed many such Issei men take pride in the gardens, lawns, pools and other improvements which they can make,” (Spencer 1942a: 17). Historic photographs reveal a variety of trees and plants which were not native to the Arizona dessert and would have required watering and care (Figures 90-91), while the newspaper details the importation of normative plants such as elm trees, citrus trees, grass and flower seeds (News-Courier November 28, 1942:2, January 21,1943:3, March 2, 1943:3). As the incarceration camp suffered numerous water shortages throughout its operation, infrastructure was constructed to pump water throughout the camp, often explicitly for the maintenance of gardens (News-Courier August 3, 1943:3). 139
Figure 92, A modified can found in the bowl o f Pond 4. Photograph by Koji Ozawa
In the archaeological record, signs of maintenance are more suggestive than obvious. The irrigation infrastructure was not immediately evident though there were a several ponds which incorporated pipes into their structures as noted above in this chapter. In Block 61, Pond 4 contained the remains of a modified can, with a section of its rim pinched as if to create a spout (Figure 92). In Block 59, Pond 8 contained at least two layers of concrete, evidently applied at different times (Figure 93). This may have been a repair or an addition to a pond made at a later date. These features hint at a continuous relationship between gardens and people, as cracks may have required repair, and flower beds watering. Gardens by their very definition are unnatural. They are places created and modified by humans in accordance to particular cultural and personal ideals. Thus the process of creating a garden was not a singular event, but an ongoing effort to maintain the constructed world created by the gardener. The infrastructure built and artifacts modified were investments of time and energy by incarcerees and speak to this continual relationship. As Spencer pointed out, the process of gardening provided many incarcerees with a fulfilling activity, a psychologically important task in places of confinement. 140
Figure 93. Wall o f Pond 8; multiple applications o f concrete visible. Photograph by Koji Ozawa
Gardens were used by more than just those who constructed and maintained them. My oral historical work concerning the Gila River camp has largely been derived from the experience of people who were children during the incarceration. The nature of the aging population is no small contributing factor as many of the incarcerees who were adults during WWII are in their 90s or have passed away. This has brought to the fore the experience of children and their interactions with gardens. Ken Hayashi, six years old at the time of the incarceration, remembers castor bean gardens around barracks. He relates here how as children they would play with the seed pods: We used to use the castor bean seeds for a blow gun. In the camp they used to have the water coolers. And they used a lot of plastic tubing. We used to cut up the tubing and use them as blowguns. Use them for shooting. We created our own games (laughs) they were fun times, (Hayashi 2015).
This memory speaks to the way that children interacted with gardens at the camps. They were not only the realms of adults who seemed to design and maintain them, but things that children interacted with and played within. The gardens also brought in other organisms such as cicadas. Francis Kuramoto, eight at the time of 141
incarceration, remembered trees planted in her block and the year that the cicadas came out: I don’t know about the other blocks, we had a bunch of trees, several dozen trees around it. So it happened that one of the years that we were in, the two years that we were in camp, was the year of the cicadas. And those trees were just covered with millions of cicadas making noises, and several kids you know were picking them off the trees and playing with them (laughs), (Kuramoto 2014).
Once more it is apparent that the presence of gardens created spaces for children to play and interact with nature. The use of gardens by children was observed at Manzanar. Excavations of the Block 33 Arai Family pond revealed a large quantity of toys and marbles at the bottom of the pond (Burton and Farrell 2014:56). This quality of garden transcended individual features and allowed for children from around the blocks to interact with them. In her study of gardens at Manzanar, Laura Ng (2014:76) noted that large quantities of marbles were uncovered in the pond of William Katsuki, a widower with no known children or grandchildren. April Kamp-Whittaker (2010) found similar garden use in her study of childhood at the Amache Incarceration camp. Oral histories from former child incarcerees supports the idea that children at Amache tended to play in the gardens around the block they resided in, with archaeological investigations frequently revealing toys in garden features (Kamp-Whittaker 2010:80). At Gila River, the surface survey revealed a single marble on the edge of a pond (Figure 94), a tantalizing suggestion of more evidence to be found. Next to another pond, the impression of child’s footprint is left in broken concrete (Figure 95). Although the evidence revealed about children from the survey is limited, these breadcrumbs suggest that further investigation of gardens may yield more. 142
Figure 95. Footprint o f a child found in broken concrete along the edge o f Pond 8. Photograph by Koji Ozawa 143
Figure 96. Photograph o f Francis Kuramoto siting in frot o f her barracks, 60-3-A. Castor bean plants can be seen planted to either side. Photographer unknown, Ozawa Family Collection
Finally, gardens were not only used as recreational places for adults to pass time and children to play in. They served a functional purpose. Gardens were highly practical responses and adaptations to the desert environment. A reoccurring theme in recollections of the Gila River camp was its hot and dusty nature. Kazuo Ekinaka (1943:27) remarked that upon arrival he observed dust everywhere and that the camp was terribly hot. Imiko Matsumoto (1943:63) commented that in Gila, “there was nothing but desert, heat and dust storms.” The planting of gardens reduced the frequency of dust storms and kept the temperature down by providing shade. Francis Kuramoto, whose home in camp is pictured above (Figure 96), remembered the castor bean plants providing shade for the barracks: Castor bean plants that uh were as tall as the top of the barracks. That’s to shield the build[ing]...you know from the sun, (Kuramoto 2015).
Gloria Toshiko Imagire recounted: But about a year after, we never had them anymore because they all planted gardens and things. They had those oleanders and castor bean trees, and they all planted lawns and things, and we didn't have dust storms anymore, (Imagire 2008). 144
Figure 97. Barrack's Footing incorporated into an island in the center o f Pond 1. Photograph by Koji Ozawa
Figure 98. Barrack's footing incorporated into an island in the center o f Pond 8. Photograph by Koji Ozawa
The proximity of the garden ponds to the barrack’s footing throughout Butte Camp also suggests this practical application of gardens to ameliorate the dessert conditions. As noted in section 5.2, a total of 42 ponds in the Butte Camp survey were found to be directly touching barracks with 32 of these actually incorporating the barrack’s footings into their design. In two cases (Pond 1 and Pond 8) the footings are actually on islands within the ponds, so that water would have flowed beneath the 145
apartments (Figures 97-98). Water placed next to barracks, and in some cases flowing beneath barracks would have acted as a thermoregulator, keeping the apartments cooler in the daytime and warmer in the evenings. Clearly the life of gardens extended past their design and initial creation. They were interacted with in a variety of ways. Continual maintenance, meant that gardening was a process attended to over several years. Meanwhile, those who were not necessarily involved in these processes enjoyed other aspects of gardens. Children played in gardens and enjoyed several tangential features, shooting castor beans at each other or capturing cicadas. Still others enjoyed the tangible benefits of gardens, as dust storms lessened and the heat inside barracks became more bearable.
5.5- Conclusion In this chapter I have attempted to analyze the survey results presented in Chapter 4 .1 have utilized archival, oral historical and comparative evidence to supplement these results and present a picture of gardens at the incarceration camp. Gardens were constructed early after the Gila River Camp was opened, with an assortment of materials gathered from the surrounding areas or pilfered from the WRA administration. Incarcerees incorporated local stones such as granite and schist into their designs, and constructed water bearing infrastructure to sustain their plots. Material such as concrete was utilized in many features with varying degrees of expertise. Gardens with ponds were placed throughout the blocks, with nearly two thirds of them positioned directly next to barracks. Some were potentially communal activities whilst others demarked property lines. The designs of gardens ranged widely both in features as well as materials. Finally ponds were interacted with during their lifetime, requiring maintenance allowing for children’s play, and providing relief to the desert climate. With all of this in mind, in the next chapter I will turn towards further interpretations of these results. 146
Chapter 6- Interpreting Gardens Gardens at Gila River were complex spaces. They were infused with a multiplicity of meanings and were to an extent agentive in themselves. In this chapter I will discuss the positions occupied by gardens in the lives of incarcerees. They were deeply entwined within a variety of spheres of camp life. In Chapter 5 my analysis of gardens found that incarcerees expended a large amount of effort in procuring materials for garden creation including the transportation and purchase of seeds or plants, scouring the landscape for stones, and stealing materials such as wood and cement to construct structures such as ponds. I found that gardens were positioned strategically in relation to barracks, some in communal areas while others seemed to demark private spaces. The styles of gardens varied widely across the camp, with a mixture of materials, elements and designs. Finally, people interacted with gardens in several different ways, through their maintenance, their ability to provide children with play areas and with their functional utility. The initial analysis outlined above reveals a complicated conglomeration of historical details about gardens inside the incarceration camp. However in order to understand fully the role that they played, a multi-scalar approach to gardens is necessary. They cannot be understood as serving one purpose or expressing a singular narrative. Paul Mullins (2009:217) has critiqued the focus on the individual in the realm of historical archaeology, which often ignores the wider social contexts in which everyday life took place. The scale of the individual can present a limited view, especially within communal deposits where multiple individuals interacted with objects and features. In her study San Jose’s Market Street Chinatown, Barbara Voss (2008) has advocated for the need of a multi-scalar approach to the archaeology of Overseas Chinese communities. By considering various scales of analysis the link between everyday routines and larger global and structural events can be better interpreted (Voss 2008:47). Furthermore, the scales of community groups are not then lost, as much of the 147
archaeological record extends past singular household usage. By considering the roles of gardens in multiple scales, their multifaceted nature can be better approached. In this chapter I will consider the role of gardens in people’s lives at three different scales. First I will examine the smallest scale, the individual, considering what gardens meant to individual incarcerees. Then I will move to the scale of the camp Block, the basic organizing unit of the camps. Finally I will turn towards the camp as a whole, considering what gardens meant to the wider population of Japanese Americans incarcerated at Gila River.
6.1- Gardens and Individuals The association between an individual and a garden is a personal one. While it would be difficult and impractical to record every single person’s individual experience with each garden at Gila River, considering the relationship between gardens and individuals is integral to the life of a garden. In this section I will highlight the place gardens held in the lives of individuals at Gila River. In Chapter 5 I outlined the diverse set of materials that people needed to procure in order to create gardens including searching for and transporting rocks and transplanting dessert plants. Large amounts of time and effort were expended in order to create and continually manage gardens. Materials such as the metal can described in section 5.4 were modified and additional infrastructure was created in order to control the local environment for nonnative plant species and ponds. These actions speak to the importance of gardens to the daily lives of people at Gila River. Within the context of incarceration camps gardens can be seen as providing three key benefits to individuals: physical relief, spiritual relief, and an exercise of control. Previous research on the creation of gardens in incarceration camps has focused in large part on gardens as a form of resistance (Tamura 2004; Helphand 2006). Gardens have been read largely in their symbolic capacity to represent spaces of resisting 148
administrative control and expression of Japanese American identity. While this is an important aspect of gardens and one which I will address below in this chapter, it can overlook some of the practical implications of garden creation. My analysis of gardens at Gila River has shown that many of those containing ponds were built adjacent to barracks, occasionally undercutting them. This allows them to serve as thermoregulatory devices, keeping temperatures inside of structures stable. Similarly, historic photographs and oral histories have suggested that many tall plants such as castor beans were planted near to barracks not only for the pleasing aesthetic qualities but to also provide shade. The positioning of barracks gardens and the composition of these gardens (water elements and tall flora), were in part strategic choices by incarcerees to combat the harsh conditions of dessert environment. Thus one of the primary functions of gardens were for physical relief. This is an important aspect of their physicality and must not be lost when considering the importance and role of gardens in the lives of incarcerees. When considering the role of gardens at Gila River at the scale of the individual and the motivations for said individuals to create these landscapes, this physicality becomes apparent. The nature of archaeology to consider the prosaic reality of daily life highlights this aspect. As Casella (2007:148) observes, the materiality of objects in places of confinement attest to the power of inmates to cope with their often arduous environment. The barracks constructed and designed by the WRA, proved to be insufficient in themselves to combat the desert conditions. In this fashion incarcerees perform acts of resistance towards their inadequate provisions through their creation of gardens to alleviate excessive heat and dust. They are subtly demonstrating their ability to cope with the environment and their independence from WRA control and assistance. Another less tangible quality of relief was also gained by individuals. Here I use the term spiritual relief, though it is not restricted to matters of religiosity or systems of cosmology. Rather I use the term spiritual relief to refer to an uplifting of the spirits and easing of the psychological impact caused by the incarceration experience. As many 149
scholars have noted the process of the mass removal and incarceration was incredibly damaging to the Japanese Americans who underwent the experience (Dusselier 2008:127; Robinson 2009:202; Dempster 201 l:xxiii). This is especially true when considering the history Japanese Americans leading up to the imprisonment. As described in Chapter 2, the incarcerations was for Issei the culmination of decades of marginalization and disenfranchisement by both the United States government and the general populace. It was a confirmation of America’s rejection and a reminder of their precarious position between the nations of Japan and the United States. For Nisei and subsequent generations it was an embarrassing redaction of their rights as citizens and an affirmation of their racialized second class status. Furthermore, confinement within prison camps over the course of one to three years left the prisoners with a profound sense of boredom, a state which can exacerbate depression (Dusselier 2008:126). This boredom was mentioned by many of the Nisei coming out of Gila River. Kazuo Ekinaka (1944:30) remarked that life at Gila was, “pretty monotonous and boring at times and it didn’t really seem to lead anywhere.” Similarly, Toshie Ikeda (1943:36) remembered feeling restless due to lack of activities, exclaiming, “Gosh, I don’t see how people stand camp life now.” Constructing gardens and the continual labor required for their maintenance provided a productive activity for incarcerees. It delivered a measure of relief from these blows to the spirit and the psyche of the individuals who built the gardens and to those who merely appreciated their beauty. In his fieldwork at Gila River, Robert Spencer, observed that many gardens were created by practicing Buddhists in the camp and decorated with ofuta, paper good luck charms (Spencer 1942c:24, 1943:45). For some individuals gardens clearly held a place in their religiously spiritual lives, providing places for them to perform acts of faith. Religion at the incarceration camps provided a space in which some incarcerees could cope with the realities of incarceration in different manners. Gary Okihiro (1984:233) has argued that religion inside of the incarceration camps acted as an ideological basis for 150
cultural resistance towards the hegemonic forces of European-American dominated society. Read in this way, gardens were integrated into the religious practices of some of the garden builders, allowing them to express a religious identity which was largely discriminated against. Taking different approach, Fugita and Fernandez (2002:134) argue that Buddhist practice in the incarceration camps focused incarceree’s efforts towards improvement of conditions and comfort rather than resentment towards incarceration. Considered in this manner, religiosity in gardens can be read as spiritual fulfillment towards these goals of comfort and improvement. Gardens at Gila River were not necessarily restricted to either framework in regards to religion. Instead they likely took many forms for the many religious orientations of the incarcerees. Jane Dusselier (2008:2) has argued in her book Artifacts o f Loss, the creation of gardens and other crafts in the incarcerations camps provided relief, acting as creative outlets utilized to cope with the psychological and emotional trauma of incarceration. Whether or not the religious tendencies of the builders were involved, the creation of gardens provided solace. The act of gardening provided an activity of spiritual relief. Gardens similarly provided comfort and peace to those who were not directly involved in their creation. In many oral histories, the beauty of gardens was often remarked upon by people who were incarcerated at Gila River who simply view them. In an interview, Yasu Momii (2011) recalled, “it’s not asphalt like the assembly center, so they had beautiful gardens.. .and it made it homier.” Similarly, John Nakada (2010) remembered, “people had gardens and there were trees and bushes and so that part of it was pretty good.” Gardens functioned as positive spiritual relief to the conditions of imprisonment in the dessert environment through their form. Finally, returning to the constructors, gardens allowed incarcerees to exercise control and agency over their environment. The entirety of the incarceration experience was an externally controlled process. From being forcibly removed from their homes, and transported to assembly centers and then incarceration camps, the incarcerees had little 151
control over their fate. Upon arrival, they were presented with highly uniform barracks arranged in regular rows and blocks. The creation of gardens allowed incarcerees to take claim of their surroundings. As described in Chapter 5, the placement and frequency of gardens at Butte Camp suggests that barracks gardens represented areas of control and territory to their builders. Dusselier (2008:3) describes this process as reterritorialization, borrowing from the work of Gupta and Ferguson (1997:39). Reterritorialization entails the taking possession of area and reforming it into a pace of home (Dusselier 2008:52). The creation of gardens at Gila River was an act of reterritorialization, and exercise of agency by the incarcerated. The theft of materials such as cement and the gathering of rocks from outside the confines of the camp furthers this interpretation. It was an activity through which incarcerees could exercise their own control over space and material. In this section I have outlined the interpretive potential for gardens at Gila River within the scale of the individual. Individuals interacted with gardens through their creation, maintenance and viewing. In all three activities gardens functioned in a variety of manners, offering physical and spiritual relief as well as a degree of freedom and agency which was restricted by the incarceration. Focusing on the individual allows for the conception of gardens within the day to day lives of incarcerees. While the spectacular juxtaposition of flower gardens and ponds set within a dessert prison attracts the eyes of the scholar today, it is important to consider the quotidian interactions between individuals and gardens. In this way it is possible to see the manner in which the incarceration effected the Japanese American people on a very personal level. Physical removal from home, harsh dessert conditions, racialized landscape, and imprisonment were infused into all aspects of life. Gardens were no exception. My interpretations of gardens at Gila River suggests that all of these aspects were at play, and that incarcerees utilized gardens to mediate these complex structures and forces acting upon them. 152
6.2 Gardens and Blocks The camp block was one of the basic organizing units of the incarcerations facilities erected by the WRA. Each block had 14 Barracks, two latrines, a laundry room, ironing room, recreation hall, and Mess Hall. In an attempt to maintain a degree of social cohesion, the WRA at Gila River allowed for family members or people from the same neighborhoods to populate blocks (WRA 1945:38). Still, not all those in each block knew each other before the incarceration. Considering gardens at the scale of the block allows us to better understand the social role of gardens within these formulated communities. I argue in this section that gardens helped to create a sense of community in blocks. When considered on the scale of the block, gardens functioned as community projects. This becomes apparent especially when considering open space gardens and Mess Hall gardens. Twenty-two open space gardens were observed in the survey of Gila River and two Mess Hall Gardens. A comparative analysis suggests that these gardens may have been the result of collaborative efforts in construction. Twelve of the open space and barracks garden ponds were fairly large, being at least 3m in length requiring a large amount of effort to construct. Numerous other gardens at Gila contained fairly large granite stones which again would have necessitated group collaboration to gather and position within the gardens. In his analysis of ornamental garden construction at Manzanar, Beckwith (2013:275) concluded that they must have been community efforts due to the immense size of materials required to construct gardens. Laura Ng further suggested that ornamental gardens functioned as ways to bring people together in their shared captivity (Ng 2014:84). This theory has additionally been supported by oral histories which has revealed that these gardens were constructed by groups of people almost always from the same block (Ng 2014:71). The size of materials and of features at Gila River suggests that gardens were similarly the product of multiple persons coordinating, likely from the same blocks. In a descriptive report of Block 61 at Butte Camp, Robert Spencer (1943b: 14) states that the Block manager attained trellises and 153
directed the creation of landscaping features for around the block. This supports the idea that the Mess Hall and open space gardens at Gila River were partially the result of group efforts rather than simply individuals. Additionally, a consideration of the density of gardening features intimates that blocks utilized garden construction as group oriented projects. In the first year of the incarceration garden competitions were advertised in the Gila River News-Courier with awards presented to the blocks with the largest number of gardens (News-Courier Oct 17, 1942:4; Spencer 1942d:22). In my survey of Butte Camp, an average of five garden ponds was observed in residential blocks. Two blocks (Block 63 and Block 66) contained a significantly larger number of garden ponds with thirteen and eight ponds respectively. Conversely four blocks had significantly fewer ponds, with Blocks 60 and 65 containing two ponds, and Blocks 64 and 73 containing one pond. The differing density of ponds in these blocks suggests that some blocks may have encouraged their residents to construct gardens, perhaps in response to the competitions advertised. Spencer (1942d:22) in his report on community activities noted the interest of incarcerees in these competitions. In this context, the constructing of gardens in these high density areas may have functioned as a community activity, allowing people to share a sense of group solidary as they work towards a common goal. As sociologist Michel Conan (2003:7) has advocated, gardens are not simply designed landscapes, but rather places that are interacted with and in. In his analysis of home garden builders in England and Sweden, Christopher Tilley (2008:227) contends that the style garden produced is not as significant as the actual sense that creating a garden is important. Through the collective conception that gardening is what the English or the Swedes do, the creation of gardens is the performance of a banal nationalism (Tilley 2008:244). In this way gardening can create imagined communities, allowing a diverse set of people to share in a common activity (Anderson 2006:6-7). Though they vary widely in design principles, the construction of gardens in blocks may have served 154
in the creation of collective identity. Spencer (1943b: 12-18) wrote that throughout their time at Gila River, people identified with their own block and were dismissive and confrontational towards other block members. Acts of garden construction and of gardening were performances of this identity within blocks. Gardening in this sense provided a vehicle for blocks to become communities. The use of gardens by children added to the maintenance of community cohesion inside of the camps. As discussed in Chapter 5, gardens often utilized by children as places for play. Both Ken Hayashi (2015) and Francis Kuramoto (2014) fondly recounted their time playing in and around gardens at Gila River. Markers of children such as the marble found in Pond 11 or the baby’s footprint found in Pond 8 attest to the presence of children interacting with gardens. At both Manzanar and Amache children were noted as playing in gardens leaving behind large quantities of toys (Kamp-Whittaker 2010:80; Burton and Farrell 2014:56; Ng 2014:76). Shew and Kamp-Whittaker concluded that the presence of marbles in landscaping features near residential barracks at Amache were to products of children playing in supervised areas (2013:312). In contrast toys found at the peripheries of blocks were areas where children were allowed more freedom and unsupervised play (Shew and Kamp-Whittaker 2013:312). Gardens here can be seen as areas of control over children where they can play within supervised limits. At Gila River, parents attempted to keep fairly tight control over their children, emphasizing that they should be kept within the blocks and not allowed to wander (WRA 1945:42). Community councils wished to extend this control even to teenagers, suggesting the enactment of curfews to prevent them from engaging in “immoral” activities (Spencer 1942a: 10). Thus it would be of no surprise that gardens near barracks were the preferred areas for children within blocks to congregate. It clear that children disobeyed these provisions and often roamed away from their home blocks. Ken Hayashi (2015) recalled that he would roam all across the camp causing trouble and playing with boys from other blocks. Despite this, gardens were 155
spaces where parents attempted to exert their control over their children within their preferred sense of community. As noted in Chapter 2, the Japanese American community was diverse, with minority elements such as the buraku-jumin systemically excluded and discriminated against. Spencer (1942e:19) has noted that these prejudices remained inside of the camps, and that many parents resented the fact that their children were in school and engaged in recreational activities with buraku-jumin children. Nearby landscaping features would have allowed parents to keep an eye on their children, ensuring that the young ones did not fraternize with others considered lower caste. Gardens focused play areas within the camp to a localized approved community. When considering gardens at the block level, their use as community devices becomes more apparent. Gardens helped to foster block communities in a variety of ways. The shared construction of gardens allowed incarcerees to come together for the production of publically accessible projects. On a wider scale, the act of gardening itself, even in the construction of personal gardens, functioned as the performance of a shared identity in blocks. Finally, gardens offered a space for parents exercise their control in the maintenance of their preferred communities.
6.3 Gardens and the Gila River Incarceration Camp In the previous two sections I have outlined the position gardens functioned within at the scales of the individual and the block. Here I turn towards the incarceration camp as a whole. The creation of gardens was encouraged and partially facilitated by the WRA administration at Gila River as well as Nisei dominated organizations such as the Gila News-Courier and camp block managers. And yet in many accounts of the construction of gardens, it appears that Issei were often the primary force behind their construction and maintenance. This created a paradoxical situation in which gardens were encouraged by two opposing political forces. 156
In this section I argue that gardens were contested spaces in which conflicting politically charged views were expressed. The multifaceted nature of gardens allowed for multiple ideologies to be infused in them. In turn, gardens were then utilized simultaneously by different parties to accomplish various goals. First I will outline the WRA administration’s approach to gardens, highlighting their support for landscaping projects and their use of organizations like the News-Courier. I will then consider the political positioning of Issei in the camp and how this effected their relationship with garden construction. After this I will turn towards Nisei who were involved with the construction of garden. Finally I will reflect on the place of women in the construction and maintenance of gardens. With these different perspectives it will become apparent that gardens can be seen as highly political and contested spaces. The WRA administration encouraged gardens very early on in the life of the Gila River Camp. In the fourth issue of the Gila River News-Courier, camp Director Fryer urged incarcerees to transplant native shrubs and create rock gardens (Sept 23, 1942:1). A grounds department was erected to supervise the transplanting of trees, shrubs and flowers as well as the distribution of seeds (News-Courier Oct 24, 1942:3, Nov 11, 1942:5, Dec 9, 1942:3). The WRA designed a variety of landscaping projects for the camp, many of which never came to fruition. Roy Marubayashi a Nisei working for the grounds department recalled his time as a landscape architect at Gila River: I stayed in that job until I left camp, and we made designs of a lot of landscape architecture to be done in camp. Most of it was not completed by the time I left there because of the shortage of material. We planned to plant a lot of trees around camp so that it would be shadier but this never did get through because they could not get the trees, (Marubayashi 1943:57).
The WRA’s investment into gardening projects at Gila River was likely undertaken for several reasons. Its support was no doubt in part an attempt at projecting a humanitarian perception of the camps. Eleanor Roosevelt, first lady and vocal critic of 157
the incarceration, visited Gila River in 1943 with WRA director Dillon Meyer. It has been suggested that Gila was chosen as a showcase due to its attractive appearance with its gardens, white washed barracks (as opposed to tar paper), and red tile roofs (Girdner and Loftis 1969:302; Burton et al. 1999:61). As such the WRA at Gila River was incentivized to encourage and maintain landscaping projects in order to continue fostering a relatively positive appearance. At the same time the creation of gardens at Gila-River offered the WRA a technique of governance within the camp. Adrian Myers (2013:256) in his analysis of German POW camps in Canada, noted the use of internment camps as institutions of control and reform. Similarly, Casella’s (2007:67) work on institutions observed their use to transform non-compliant and marginalized inmates into malleable citizens of the state. Both of these interpretations rely upon Michel Foucault’s (1977:306) understanding of institutions as containing diverse mechanisms of control and exercises of power. When considered through this lens of incarcerality, the encouragement of the administration for incarcerees to construct gardens can be interpreted as a subtle exercise of power. Through the program of landscape improvement and camp beautification, the administration was attempting to control the activities of the incarcerees into safe and productive activities. Furthermore, garden spaces allowed the administration to better visually monitor the activities of incarcerees as they took place outside, within public view. Alfredo Gonzalez- Ruibal (2011:69) has noted the public production of graffiti in Francoist internment camps allowed the camp administration to monitor these activities. Though it is tempting to interpret the incarceration camps as total institutions and gardens as techniques of control by the administration, a closer inspection of the group of garden builders challenges this perspective. According to Spencer (1942b: 17), the primary constructor of gardens at Gila River were older Issei men. This observation was corroborated by oral histories in which many incarcerees remembered primarily older Issei men as constructing gardens (Hayashi 2015). The only two gardens explicitly 158
mentioned in the camp’s newspaper were also both constructed by Issei, Yoshihei Tomita and Sam Fukuda (News-Courier Sept 12, 1942:4, Nov 11, 1942:5). In many accounts of Issei at Gila River, it has been noted that they were particularly resistant towards the camp administration its policies. Yuri Ekinaka (1944:46) recalled that many of the Issei weren’t radicals but protested because of miserable conditions in the camp. Similarly, Albert Ikeda (1944:92-94) stated that Issei at Gila River were upset at low wages and lack of representation in block management. Furthermore, Issei were particularly vocal in their criticism of the Nisei dominated camp newspaper, claiming that it didn’t represent their interests (Kikuchi 1942:11). When put into the context of the history of the Issei as outlined in Chapter 2, the resentment of this group towards the camp administration and their distrust of Nisei dominated groups was understandable. Many of the Issei were still suspicious of groups like the JACL, and felt betrayed by Nisei. Their continual disenfranchisement by the government furthered their suspicion. In one case, Issei kitchen workers stockpiled food out of fear that the government would eventually cut off their rations as the war progressed (Ikeda 1944:95). At public meetings, many incarcerees would shout down and boo camp administration officials for not keeping their word (Marubayashi 1943:63). Considering these high levels of distrust it seemed unlikely that many Issei were constructing gardens due to the urging of camp administration officials. Rather it would seem that their construction of gardens largely occurred outside the influence of the administration. This interpretation is further supported when considering the stolen materials utilized in construction of garden features. For these builders of gardens, they seemed to represent a space of their own control. As I have argued in Section 6.1, gardens were spaces of reterritorialization, where some Issei could create landscapes of their own desire. Although Issei seemed to have constructed the majority of ornamental gardens around Gila River, their political orientation was not monolithic. Evidence also points 159
towards Nisei involvement in garden construction, at least in public projects. As noted above Roy Marubayashi, a 20 year old Nisei worked as a landscape architect in developing public parks at Gila River. A survey of Gila River News-Courier articles revealed the names of ten identifiable individuals who worked in the grounds department, half of which were Nisei and half Issei (News-Courier Dec 9, 1942:3, Dec 19, 1942:4; NARA 1989). The exact motivations of this group of people to work directly for the camp administration is unclear. However, in her analysis of garden builders at Manzanar, Ng contends (2014:82) that gardens may have allowed incarcerees to mitigate racial hostility from WRA officials and other European-Americans. Japanese style gardens in America before the incarceration met “Orientalist-Expectations,” offering safe and non threatening examples of Japanese culture for American consumers (Esaki 2013:260). I argue here that for some, the racialized notion of the Japanese as gardeners offered a way to capitalize on phenotypic conceptions of identity in an acceptable manner. Azuma (2009:266) has chronicled the means in which Nisei between the 1930s and 1950s utilized racialized conceptions of chick sexing, the determination of young chicken sexes, as an acceptable way to access middle class incomes that were socially acceptable in America’s racial hierarchies. A new method of chick sexing emerged from Japan in 1934, allowing American egg farmers to identify productive hens at an early age and save money from rearing unproductive males. Not long after its introduction into the United States, the practice was bound with racial stereotypes, transforming Japanese heritage into a prerequisite for the position of chick sexor on egg farms (Azuma 2009:244). Nisei, seeking to gain acceptance in American society, were able to successfully manipulate this stereotype into an economically advantageous position (Azuma 2009:245). As discussed in Chapter 2, in the immediate years leading up into the incarceration, many Nisei participated in a form of hyper-nationalism, adamantly proclaiming their American citizenship and loyalty. Yet despite these efforts they were 160
imprisoned in camps for their Japaneseness. The case of chick sexors is analogous to that of gardeners. Gardening and landscaping allowed Japanese Americans at Gila River to capitalize on racialized conceptions of Japanese gardening portraying their identity in a positive light. This was an extension of the bridge of understanding that Nisei had attempted to pursue in the pre-war years. Thus for some Nisei gardens at Gila River offered areas where they could mediated between Japanese and American identities. They were areas of acceptance and demonstrations of the fortitude of their community. After one year, an issue of the Gila River News-Courier writing of the first incarcerees: ...with oriental patience and stoicism they set to work...from the barren desert lands had risen a ‘boom city’ one of the ten war-propagated ‘homes’ for West Coast evacuees. Barracks have been trimmed with lawns, gardens, fish ponds, trees, awnings and porches, {News-Courier Sept 13, 1943:3).
Finally I would like to briefly address an area not often considered in regards to garden creation within the incarceration camps: women. As noted above, the primary creators of gardens have often been depicted as men, and yet it has become clear that women were involved in the creation of gardens at Gila River. Masako Saruwatari’s (1943:34) husband recounted her desire to create a garden around their barrack’s apartment. Ed Takeda (2015) in an oral history interview fondly remembered his mother planting and tending flowers around their home before the war, a practice that may have continued at Gila River. One of the grounds department workers mentioned in the newspaper was a women named Toshiko Matsuda, as was one of the three judges in the camp’s garden competition, Grace Hagiya (News-Courier Dec 19, 1942:4, Oct 17, 1942:4). These references only offer hints about the role of women in building and maintaining gardens at Gila River, but clearly point to a broader role than often considered. Valerie Matsumoto (1984) has argued that the incarceration experience provided many women with opportunities that were previously unavailable to them. Many women 161
worked long hours in agriculture, as domestics, or in their husband’s businesses before the war as well as acting as the primary caregivers to their children (Matsumoto 1984:7). The incarceration camps provided opportunities for work and leisure time that was formerly absent, allowing women to explore new pursuits (Matsumoto 1984:9). From accounts of gardening noted above, it appears to have been dominated by men in Japanese American society, both as a professional occupation and as a leisurely craft. And yet, the hints of women gardening at Gila River challenges this narrative. Perhaps gardening was one of the newly accessible opportunities discussed by Matsumoto. Perhaps the role of Japanese American women in gardening has simply been continually passed over. Whichever the case, the oral historical and archival records force us to remember that men were not the sole agents in garden creation and maintenance. Accordingly I posit that gardens may have been areas where women could publically explore the realm of possibilities that the restructuring nature of the incarceration camp offered. Gardens were spaces of expression and avenues of creativity not necessarily available before. Gardens at Gila River were spaces invested with multiple meanings. They were spaces that provided a range of possibilities for the diverse groups which interacted and were intermixed in the incarceration camp. For the WRA administration, gardens offered a way to maintain order and promote a positive image of the camp. By encouraging incarcerees to build gardens, and sponsoring landscaping projects, gardens provided subtle forms of control throughout the camp. In contrast to this, gardens were spaces of defiance and freedom for many incarcerees, especially Issei, providing them with areas under their control, and manufactured with materials stolen from the WRA. For others gardens offered a way to strategically navigate racial tensions. Finally for women gardens may have provided spaces of new potential, allowing them to access a craft unavailable to them before. 162
This is by no means an exhaustive exploration of the different meanings read in and expressed through garden creation at Gila River. Rather it is a demonstration of the multiple lives that gardens lived inside of the incarceration camp. Gardens occupied ambiguous spaces, at once publicly consumable, and at the same time intimate to its creator. Consequently the phenomenon of garden creation, an act which according to archaeological and oral historical evidence seems to have been fairly widespread and common, came to mean many things. The multifaceted nature of gardens was complex and messy, with contradictory meanings simultaneously occupying the same space. Gardens were ultimately contested areas, with diverse groups and interests at Gila River investing their own significances, values and agendas into them.
6.4-Conclusion In this chapter I have explored the role gardens played at Gila River utilizing the results of archaeological survey, archival research and oral histories with my analysis outlined earlier and contextualized within the Japanese American experience. In order to begin to interpret these complex features I utilized a multi-scalar analysis, looking at gardens in relation to individuals, blocks and the camp as a whole. Within the scale of the individual it appears that gardens were forms of spiritual and physical relief from the conditions of desert incarceration. At the scale of the block, gardens acted as tools of community providing spaces for communal identity to be created and maintained. At the scale of the camp, gardens appear as highly malleable entities, invested in by differing groups with the potential to be read in a variety of manners. Through the employment of a multi-scalar analysis the interpretation of gardens provides a diverse set of narratives surrounding Gila River. Each narrative offers and important perspective on the incarceration, deepening our understanding of the assortment of experiences of incarcerees. It is important to understand that gardens did not function in a singular manner, instead they were highly complex features with numerous roles and meanings. 163
Furthermore by situating the creation of gardens within a diachronic approach to Japanese American history it is possible to understand the linkages between garden creation and some of the wider structures interacting with the Japanese American community. 164
Chapter 7- Conclusion In January of 2015, in collaboration with GRIC-CRMP, I surveyed approximately 1/3 of the Butte Camp section of the Gila River Incarceration Camp. A total of 64 garden pond features with a wide array of designs and material compositions were cataloged as a result of this effort. This marked the first systematic documentation of garden features at Gila River. In order to supplement this archaeological information I utilized a combination of archival resources, photographs and oral histories, contextualizing gardens within the social landscape of camp life. Furthermore I situated this research within the context of Japanese American history in order to better understand the creation of these features within the complex dynamics of the community. I approached the analysis of these gardens with the theoretical frameworks of both garden and incarceration archaeology. My research has shown that gardens were created under a range of circumstances and for a range of purposes. They were constructed using materials gathered from the landscape, bought to the camp, or robbed from the WRA. The placement of gardens along the barracks indicates that though some were certainly communal efforts, many were the result of small groups or individuals who created gardens for personal enjoyment. Artifacts left in and around the garden ponds suggest a continual relationship with their creators. Evidence of repair and maintenance was discovered alongside toys, intimating an ongoing relationship with these features. Proximity near to and occasionally under barracks also indicates that gardens provided some practical relief to the desert conditions, keeping temperatures stable and dust down. I have argued in this thesis that gardens were multifaceted entities, agentive in their own right. Using a multi-scalar approach I showed that gardens can be read as both reflecting the identities of those who created them as well as effecting the creation of communal identities. They provided physical and spiritual relief, places of personal space and of communal enjoyment, and contested political grounds. The interpretative nature of 165
gardens meant that they could simultaneously occupy multiple positions within the political and social landscapes. They could mean many things for many different people, occasionally contradictory. This research is important for several reasons. First it provides a new set of data for comparison with other sites of incarceration. As the field of Japanese American incarceration camp archaeology grows, a need for comparisons between sites becomes critical (Burton et al. 1999:17; Ng 2014:88). The garden features at Gila River are unique for their size and quantity. To date no other camp has shown such high numbers of pond features dispersed throughout their blocks. The documentation of the garden features at Gila River is an important step in the direction of comparative research, allowing for more complex and nuanced question to be asked, and the diversity of the incarcerated population to be understood. The acknowledgement of the diversity of the Japanese American population is another crucial aspect of this research. The homogenization of peoples in the past can be a dangerous political tool, obfuscating the marginalization and disenfranchisement of minority groups. As Alfredo Gonzales-Ruibal points out, archaeology can be used to challenge predominant narratives of power (2008:271). Not all Japanese Americans had the same experience during the incarceration. Those who resisted imprisonment, objected to the draft or challenged camp authorities were often ostracized from their friends and family (Omori 2004; Farrell and Burton 2011). The narratives of the incarceration experience are highly contested (Murray 2008:334). It is important for archaeological analysis of the past to seek out the diversity in narratives and experiences. Such work can highlight pasts that remain hidden or pushed to the periphery by dominant powers. My analysis of gardens at Gila River seeks to do this. I have argued throughout this thesis that these gardens speak to a wider diversity of peoples at Gila River, from different locations, classes, castes and political persuasions. An examination of the complexity of 166
relationships surrounding garden features allows us to see how these varied segments of society interacted. This research is also important in demonstrating that gardens built within the incarceration camps do not mean that camp life was easy, or that the WRA coddled Japanese Americans. It would be easy to marvel at the beautiful garden creations spread so widely throughout the camp and think that the incarceration camp was ultimately pleasant. Gila River contained white washed and red tilled roofed barracks and prolific gardens. Its barbed wire fence was removed after six months of operation (Burton et al. 1999:62). Though the fences may have been removed, the unforgiving conditions of the desert provided a formidable boundary. We must not forget that however modified, these were prisons. My research has shown that people within these camps were faced with deplorable conditions in a harsh environment. Rather than gardens demonstrating the ease of camp life, they stand as testimonies to the tools people utilized to cope and adapt to their environments. The understanding of these camps and of the conditions within them is not only important to preventing the sanitization of history but for problematizing politics of the present. As recently as November 2015, the mayor of Roanoke, Virginia suggested that the WWII Japanese American incarceration camps were necessary and could potentially be applied to Syrian refugees (Chittum 2015). This apologist narrative allows the potential for further violations of constitutional rights. Jason De Leon’s work on the archaeology of undocumented migrants has traced the use of the southern Arizona desert as a zone of moral ambiguity in controlling the border (De Leon 2012, 2013). The Prevention through Deterrence (PTD) program has sought to discourage migrants from entering the United States by funneling them through the desert (Beck et al. 2015:1). When these people pass through these areas and die from exposure, the United States government absolves itself from responsibility by pointing to the natural conditions of the desert (De Leon 2015). This case is similar to the removal of fences from Gila River, 167
allowing the desert to act as a natural barrier. A jail with no walls, and a border with no fence. The danger of entering into the desert lies in the choices of the individuals rather than the policies of the government. Archaeological work provides an avenue in which these narratives can be questioned. Through a careful examination of the material conditions at Gila River, the realities of camp life provides a powerful challenge. Citizenship in the United States has never been experienced equally. Divisions of gender, sexuality, class and race are transformed into tiered privileges. The incarceration of Japanese Americans is a prime example of this unequal citizenship. As Stacey Camp argues, archaeology can trace the historic meanings of citizenship and how those who were excluded sought to gain access to it (Camp 2013:142). The interpretation of gardens at Gila River allows us to better understand these dynamics. The construction of gardens occurred during an acute denial of citizenship. For Issei it was a confirmation of the rights they were never allowed to obtain, for Nisei it was a wholesale rejection. Further study of these sites is necessary to further comprehend these dynamics. When discussing their own stories of incarceration Ed Takeda (2015), Tok Yoshihashi (2015) and Yosh Nakamura (2015) all stressed that it was important for people to know their experiences to prevent it from happening to minority groups again. This thesis has provided the entryway into further study on the Gila River Incarceration Camp. Further research is needed to address the issues outlined above. Only 1/3 of Butte camp was covered in the archaeological survey. A complete survey of this camp and of Canal Camp has the potential to provide a wealth of information. As noted in Chapter 4, the demographic makeup of each camp was different with Canal Camp’s population being drawn from primarily farmers in Central California and Butte Camp’s from more urbanized Southern California. A comparison of the styles and construction techniques of gardens in these two environments could provide further insight into the divisions along class lines in the Japanese American community. Further integration with Asian American Studies would also provide a crucial next step. As Kelly Fong and 168
Clement Lai have pointed out, archaeology has largely lacked this integration, missing the richness of this field and the depth it could provide to interpretation (Fong & Lai 2015). An interdisciplinary approach will allow for more diverse and nuanced research questions to be addressed. Finally a detailed consideration of material culture left at the camp in surface scatters will afford a better understanding of camp life. Many things about life within the incarceration camps remain unknown. How did prewar gardens compare to those constructed within the camps? How did they change after? What effect did social organizations such as kenjinkai (regional affiliation social groups) or tanimoshi (money lending circles) groups have on camp social dynamics? Archaeology with its careful consideration of material consumption has the potential to provide much needed insight into these questions. The work presented in this thesis is the first step towards a deeper understanding of the past. 169
Bibliography Anderson, Benedict R. 2006. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread o f Nationalism. Rev. ed. New York, NY: Verso. Azuma, Eiichiro. 2005. Between Two Empires: Race, History, and Transnationalism in Japanese America. New York: Oxford University Press. . 2009. “Race, Citizenship, and the ‘Science of Chick Sexing’: The Politics of Racial Identity among Japanese Americans.” Pacific Historical Review 78 (2): 242- 75. Baugher, Sherene. 2009. “Historical Overview of the Archaeology of Institutional Life.” In The Archaeology o f Institutional Life, edited by April M. Beisaw and James G. Gibb, 5-16. Tuscaloosa, Al: University of Alabama Press. Beck, Jess, Ian Ostericher, Gregory Sollish, and Jason De Leon. 2015. “Animal Scavenging and Scattering and the Implications for Documenting the Deaths of Undocumented Border Crossers in the Sonoran Desert,” Journal o f Forensic Sciences 60 (January): 11-20. Beckwith, R.J. 2013. “Japanese-Style Ornamental Community Gardens at Manzanar Relocation Center.” In Prisoners o f War, edited by Harold Mytum and Gillian Carr, 271-84. New York, NY: Springer. Beisaw, April M., and James G. Gibb, eds. 2009. The Archaeology o f Institutional Life. Tuscaloosa, Al: University of Alabama Press. Bernstein, Alison R. 1991. American Indians and World War II: Toward a New Era in Indian Affairs. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press. Branton, Nicole L. 2000. “Rice Bowls and Resistance: Cultural Persistence at the Manzanar War Relocation Center, California.” Master’s Thesis, Tucson, AZ: University of Arizona, Department of Anthropology. . 2004. “Drawing the Line: Places of Power in the Japanese-American Internment Eventscape.” PhD Dissertation, Tucson, AZ: University of Arizona, Department of Anthropology. Burton, Jeff F. 1996. “Three Farewells to Manzanar: The Archaeology of Manzanar National Historic Site, California.” 67. Publications in Anthropology. Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. . 1998. “The Archaeology of Somewhere: Archaeological Testing along U.S. Highway 395 Manzanar National Historic Site, California.” 72. Publications in Anthropology. Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. . 2005. “Archaeological Investigations at the Administration Block and Entrance.” Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. 170
. 2015. “Garden Management Plan: Gardens and Gardeners.” Manzanar National Historic Site, CA: National Park Service, U.S. Department of the Interior. Burton, Jeff F., and Mary M. Farrell. 2001. “This Is Minidoka: An Archeological Survey of Minidoka Internment National Monument, Idaho.” 80. Publications in Anthropology. Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. . 2005. “Tule Lake Segregation Center.” Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. . 2007. “World War II Japanese American Internment Sites in Hawai’i.” Tucson, AZ: Trans-Sierran Archaeological Research. . 2008. “Jigoku-Dani: An Archaeological Reconnaissance of the Honouliuli Internment Camp, O’ahu, Hawai’i.” Tucson, AZ: Trans-Sierran Archaeological Research. . 2013. “‘Life in Manzanar Where There Is a Spring Breeze’: Graffiti at a World War II Japanese American Internment Camp.” In Prisoners o f War, edited by Harold Mytum and Gillian Carr, 239-269. New York, NY: Springer. . 2014. “A Place of Beauty and Serenity: Excavation and Restoration of the Arai Family Fish Pond.” Manzanar National Historic Site, CA: National Parks Service. Burton, Jeff F., Mary M. Farrell, Florence B. Lord, and Richard W. Lord. 1999. “Confinement And Ethnicity: An Overview of World War II Japanese American Relocation Sites.” 74. Publications in Anthropology. Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. Burton, Jeff F., J.D. Haines, and Mary M. Farrell. 2001. “I Rei To: Archaeological Investigations at the Manzanar Relocation Cemetery, Manzanar National Historic Site, California.” 79. Publications in Anthropology. Tucson, AZ: Western Archaeological and Conservation Center, National Park Service, U.S. Dept, of the Interior. Camp, Stacey Lynn. 2013. The Archaeology o f Citizenship. The American Experience in Archaeological Perspective. Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida. Casella, Eleanor Conlin. 2007. The Archaeology o f Institutional Confinement. Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida. . 2009. “On the Enigma of Incarceration: Philosophical Approaches to Confinement in the Modem Era.” In The Archaeology o f Institutional Life, edited by April M. Beisaw and James G. Gibb, 17-32. Tuscaloosa, Al: University of Alabama Press. Chan, Sucheng. 2007. “The Changing Contours of Asian-American Historiography.” Rethinking History 11 (1): 125—47. Chittum, Matt. 2015. “Roanoke Mayor David Bowers Broadly Condemned for Statements on Syrian Refugees.” The Roanoke Times, November 18. Accessed May 171
2, 2016. http://www.roanoke.com/news/local/roanoke/roanoke-mayor-david-bowers- broadly-condemned-for-statements-on-syrian/article_ele4234e-006f-558f-bc94- dd566796c261.html. Chuman, Frank F. 1976. The Bamboo People: The Law and Japanese-Amerieans. Del Mar, CA: Publisher’s Inc. Clark, Bonnie J. 2011. “The Archaeology of Gardening at Amache: Summary Report- Summer 2010.” Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. . 2012. “The Tangible History of Amache, Phase III: Archaeology Research Design and Methodology for Field Investigations, Summer 2012.” Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. . 2016. “The Tangible History of Amache, Phase V: Archaeology Research Design and Methodology for Field Investigations, Summer 2016.” Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. Colls, Caroline Sturdy. 2015. Holocaust Archaeologies: Approaches and Future Directions. New York, NY: Springer. Company, Gonzalo, Gabriela Gonzalez, Leonardo Ovando, and David Rossetto. 2011. “A Political Archaeology of Latin America’s Recent Past: A Bridge Towards Our History.” In Archaeologies o f Internment, edited by Adrian Myers and Gabriel Moshenska, 229-244. New York, NY: Springer. Conan, Michel, ed. 2003. Landscape Design and the Experience o f Motion. Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection. ., ed. 2007. Sacred Gardens and Landscapes: Ritual and Agency. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection. (CWRIC), Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment of Civilians. 1983. Personal Justice Denied: Report o f the Commission on Wartime Relocation and Internment o f Civilians. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Publishing Office. De Cunzo, Lu Ann. 2009. “The Future of the Archaeology of Institutions.” In The Archaeology o f Institutional Life, edited by April M. Beisaw and James G. Gibb, 206-215. Tuscaloosa, Al: University of Alabama Press. De Cunzo, Lu Ann, Therese O’Malley, Michael J. Lewis, George E. Thomas, and Christa Wilmanns-Wells. 1996. “Father Rapp’s Garden at Economy: Harmony Society Culture in Microcosm.” In Landscape Archaeology, edited by Rebecca Yamin and Karen Bescherer Metheny, 91-120. Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press. De Leon, Jason. 2012. ‘“Better to Be Hot than Caught’: Excavating the Conflicting Roles of Migrant Material Culture.” American Anthropologist 114 (3): 477-95. . 2013. “The Efficacy and Impact of the Alien Transfer Exit Program: Migrant Perspectives from Nogales, Sonora, Mexico.” International Migration 51 (2): 10-23. . 2015. “The Edge of Humanity: Why Commonsensical Notions about Nature Impede Our Understandings of Structural Violence in the Arizona Desert.” In The 172
Archaeology o f Common Sense. The Society for American Archaeology General Meeting, San Francisco, CA. Dempster, Brian Komei, ed. 2011. Making Home from War: Stories of Japanese American Exile and Resettlement. Berkeley, CA: Heyday. Densho. 2016. “Densho Digital Archives”. Accessed May 9, 2016. http ://archi ve. densho. org/main. aspx Driver, Christian. 2015. “Brewing Behind Barbed Wire: An Archaeology of Sake at Amache.” Master’s Thesis, Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. Dusselier, Jane E. 2009. Artifacts o f Loss: Crafting Survival in Japanese American Concentration Camps. New Brunswick, N.J: Rutgers University Press. Eaton, Allen Hendershott. 1952. Beauty Behind Barbed Wire: The Arts o f the Japanese in Our War Relocation Camps. New York, NY: Harper. Effland Jr., Richard W., and Margerie Green. 1983. “Cultural Resource Assessment for the Gila River Farms Indian Community, GRIC.” Phoenix, AZ: Archaeological Consulting Services, Ltd. Egami, Hatsuye. 1995. The Evacuation Diary ofHatsuye Egami. Edited by Claire Gorfinkel. Pasadena, CA: Intentional Productions. Ekinaka, Kazuo. 1944. #35. Ekinaka, Kazuo Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c584c/?brand=oac4. Ekinaka, Yuriko. 1944. #36. Ekinaka, Yuriko Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c585x/?brand=oac4. Ellis, Sheri Murray. 2002. “Site Documentation and Management Plan for the Topaz Relocation Center, Millard County, Utah.” Delta, UT: SWCA Environmental Consultants. Esaki, Brett. 2013. “Multidimensional Silence, Spirituality, and the Japanese American Art of Gardening.” Journal o f Asian American Studies 16 (3): 235-65. Farrell, Mary, and Jeff Burton. 2011. “Gordon Hirabayashi, the Tucsonians, and the U.S. Constitution: Negotiating Reconciliation in a Landscape of Exile.” In Archaeologies o f Internment, edited by Adrian Myers and Gabriel Moshenska, 89-110. New York, NY: Springer. Feeley, Francis McCollum. 1999. America’s Concentration Camps during World War II: Social Science and the Japanese American Internment. New Orleans, LA: University Press of the South. Fitz-Gerald, Kyla. 2015. “Cold Cream, Masculinity, and Imprisonment: The Archaeology of Japanese American Internees at Idaho’s Kooskia Internment Camp, 1943—1945.” Master’s Thesis, Moscow, ID: University of Idaho, Department of Anthropology. 173
Fong, Kelly, and Clement Lai. 2015. “Lessons from Ethnic Studies.” In The Oxford Handbook of Historical Archaeology, edited by James Symonds and Vesa-Pekka Herva, 1-11. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Foucault, Michel. 1977. Discipline and Punish: The Birth o f The Prison. 1st American ed. New York, NY: Pantheon Books. Fugita, Stephen, and Marilyn Fernandez. 2002. “Religion and Japanese Americans’ Views of Their World War II Incarceration.” Journal o f Asian American Studies 5 (2): 113-37. Garrison, David. 2015. “A History of Transplants: A Study of Entryway Gardens at Amache.” Master’s Thesis, Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. Gee, Emma. 1994. “Issei Women: ‘Picture Brides’ in America,” In Immigrant Women, edited by Maxine S. Seller, Second Revised Edition, 53-59. New York, NY: State University of New York Press. Geiger, Andrea A. E. 2011. Subverting Exclusion: Transpacific Encounters with Race, Caste, and Borders, 1885-1928. The Lamar Series in Western History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Gilead, Isaac, Yoram Haimi, and Wojciech Mazurek. 2010. “Excavating Nazi Extermination Centres.” Present Pasts 1 (1). Girdner, Audrie, and Anne Loftis. 1969. The Great Betrayal: The Evacuation o f the Japanese-Americans During World War II. New York, NY: The Macmillan Company. Gonzalez-Ruibal, Alfredo. 2008. “Time to Destroy. An Archaeology of Supermodemity.” Current Anthropology 49 (2): 247-79. . 2011. “The Archaeology of Internment in Francoist Spain (1936-1952).” In Archaeologies o f Internment, edited by Adrian Myers and Gabriel Moshenska, 53- 73. New York, NY: Springer. Gorman, Michael. 1985. “Heart Mountain Relocation Center National Register of Historic Places-Nomination Forum.” Cheyenne, WY: Wyoming Recreation Commission. Grodzins, Morton. 1949. Americans Betrayed: Politics and the Japanese Evacuation. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Gupta, Akhil, and James Ferguson. 1992. “Beyond ‘Culture’: Space, Identity, and the Politics of Difference.” Cultural Anthropology 7 (1): 6-23. Hansen, Arthur A., ed. 1991. Japanese American World War II Evacuation Oral History Project. Westport, CT: Meckler. Hayashi, Brian Masaru. 2008. Democratizing the Enemy: The Japanese American Internment. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. 174
. 2014 “Kilsoo Haan, American Intelligence, and the Anticipated Japanese Invasion of California, 1931-1943.” Pacific Historical Review 83 (2): 277-93. Hayashi, Ken. Interview by author, November 15, 2015. Helphand, Kenneth I. 2006. Defiant Gardens: Making Gardens in Wartime. San Antonio, TX: Trinity University Press. Hirabayashi, Lane Ryo. 1999. The Politics o f Fieldwork: Research in an American Concentration Camp. Tucson, AZ: University of Arizona Press. Ichioka, Yuji. 1988. The Issei: The World o f the First Generation Japanese Immigrants, 1885-1924. New York, NY: Free Press . 1989a. “JERS Revisited: Introduction.” In Views From Within: The Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement Study, edited by Yuji Ichioka, 3-27. Los Angeles, CA: Resource Development and Publications, Asian American Studies Center, University of California at Los Angeles. ------., ed. 1989b. Views from within: The Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement Study. Los Angeles: Resource Development and Publications, Asian American Studies Center, University of California at Los Angeles. ------. 2006. Before Internment: Essays in Prewar Japanese American History. Asian America. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Ikeda, Albert Shigetake. 1943. #34. Ikeda, Albert Shigetake Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c583t/?brand=oac4. Ikeda, Toshie. 1943. #4. Ikeda, Toshie Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c552q/?brand=oac4. Imagire, Gloria Toshiko. 2008. Interview with Richard Potashin. Densho Digital Archive. Accessed November 5, 2015. http://archive.densho.org/main.aspx. Inouye, Tokiko. 1943. “I Remember.” Gila News-Courier, May 18, Vol.2 No.59. JANM, Japanese American National Museum. 1998. ‘American Jewish Committee, Japanese American National Museum Issue Joint Statement About Ellis Island Exhibit Set To Open April 3.” Japanese American National Museum. Accessed May 1, 2016. http://www.janm.org/press/release/52/. Jashemski, Wilhelmina F. 1963. “The Flower Industry at Pompeii.” Archaeology 16 (2): 112- 21 . ------. 1964. “A Pompeian Copa.” The Classical Journal 59 (8): 337—49. . 1967. “A Pompeian Vinarius.” The Classical Journal 62 (5): 193-204. Japanese American Citizens League (JACL). 2013. Power o f Words Handbook A Guide to Language about Japanese Americans in World War II. San Francisco, CA: National JACL Power of Words II Committee. 175
Kamp-Whittaker, April. 2010. “Through the Eyes of a Child: The Archaeology of WWII Japanese Internment at Amache.” Master’s Thesis, Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. Kelso, William M. 1971. “A Report on Exploratory Excavations at Carter’s Grove Plantation, James City County, Virginia.” 111. Williamsburg, VA: Department of Archaeological Research, Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. . 1976. “Interim Report, Historical Archaeology at Kingsmill: The 1974 Season.” Williamsburg, VA: VA Research Center for Archaeology. Kikuchi, Charles. 1942. “Developments on the Gila Newspaper.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c927v/?brand=oac4. ------. 1973. The Kikuchi Diary; Chronicle from an American Concentration Camp; the Tanforan Journals o f Charles Kikuchi. Edited by John Modell. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press. Kuramoto, Francis. Interview by author, December 28, 2014. Lawrence, Susan, and Peter Davies. 2011. An Archaeology of Australia since 1788. Contributions to Global Historical Archaeology. New York, NY: Springer. Leone, Mark P. 1984. “Interpreting Ideology in Historical Archaeology: The William Paca Garden in Annapolis, Maryland.” In Ideology, Power and Prehistory, 25-36. New Directions in Archaeology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lillquist, Karl. 2007. “Imprisoned in The Desert: The Geography of World War II-Era Japanese American Relocation Centers in the Western United States.” Ellensburg, WA: Central Washington University, Geography and Land Studies Department. Madden, Milton Thomas. 1969. “A Physical History of the Japanese Relocation Camp Located at Rivers, Arizona.” Master’s Thesis, Tucson, AZ: University of Arizona, Department of History. Marubayashi, Roy. 1944. #30. Marubayashi, Roy (Royutaka) Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c579m/?brand=:oac4. Matsumoto, Imiko. 1943. #23. Masumoto, Imiko Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c5716/?brand=oac4. Matsumoto, Valerie. 1984. “Japanese American Women during World War II.” Frontiers: A Journal o f Women Studies 8 (1): 6-14. ------. 1993. Farming the Home Place: A Japanese American Community in California, 1919-1982. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. McAtackney, Laura. 2014. An Archaeology o f the Troubles: The Dark Heritage o f Long Kesh/Maze Prison. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 176
Miyamoto, Shotaro Frank. 1950. “The Career of Intergroup Tensions: A Study of the Collective Adjustments of Evacuees to Crises at the Tule Lake Relocation Center.” PhD Dissertation, Chicago, II: University of Chicago. Momii, Yasu Koyamtasu. 2011. Interview by Sharon Yamato. Densho Digital Archive. Accessed December 14, 2015. http://archive.densho.org/main.aspx. Moshenska, Gabriel, and Adrian Myers. 2011. “An Introduction to Archaeologies of Internment.” In Archaeologies of Internment, edited by Adrian Myers and Gabriel Moshenska, 1-19. New York, NY: Springer International Publishing. Mullins, Paul R. 2009. “Consuming Individuality: Collective Identity Along the Color Line.” In The Materiality o f Individuality, edited by Carolyn White, 207-19. New York, NY: Springer US. Murray, Alice Yang. 2008. Historical Memories o f the Japanese American Internment and the Struggle for Redress. Asian America. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Myers, Adrian, and Timothy Dodson. 2014. “Prisoners of War and Dreams of Freedom: Dugout Canoes at a Second World War Work Camp in Manitoba, Canada.” Manitoba Archaeological Journal 24 (1/2): 93-112. Myers, Adrian, and Gabriel Moshenska, eds. 2011. Archaeologies of Internment. One World Archaeology. New York, NY: Springer. Myers, Adrian T. 2013. “The Archaeology of Reform at a German Prisoner of War Camp in a Canadian National Park during the Second World War (1943-1945).” PhD. Dissertation. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Department of Anthropology. Mytum, Harold, and Gillian Carr, eds. 2013. Prisoners o f War: Archaeology, Memory, and Heritage o f 19th- and 20th-Century Mass Internment. Contributions to Global Historical Archaeology. New York, NY: Springer. Nakada, John. 2010. Interview by Richard Potashin. Densho Digital Archive. Densho vh- njohn-01-0017. Densho Digital Archive. Accessed December 14, 2015. http ://archi ve. densho. org/ main, aspx. Nakamura, Yosh. 2015. Interview by author, December 17, 2015. National Parks Service, (NPS). 2006. “Cultural Landscape Report: Manzanar National Historic Site.” San Francisco, CA: National Park Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, Pacific West Region. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA). 1989. “Records About Japanese Americans Relocated During World War II, Created, 1988 - 1989, Documenting the Period 1942 - 1946.” Department of Justice, Civil Rights Division. Electronic and Special Media Records Services Division (NWME), National Archives at College Park. National Archives. Accessed November 5, 2015. https ://aad.archives.gov/aad/series-description.jsp?s=623&cat=WR26&bc=,si. News-Courier. 1942a. “Improvements.” Gila News-Courier, September 12, Vol. I No.l. 177
. 1942b. “Committee Extends Contest Date.” Gila News-Courier, October 17, Vol.INo.ll. . 1942c. “Beautification Beginnings Set.” Gila News-Courier, October 24, Vol. I No.13. . 1942d. “Blocks Receive Flower Seeds.” Gila News-Courier, November 11, Vol. I No.18. . 1942e. “Ingenuity Marks Miniature Landscape Creation.” Gila News-Courier, November 11, Vol. I No. 18. . 1942f. “Need Lawn Seeds?” Gila News-Courier, November 28, Vol. I No.23. . 1942g. “Beatify Gila Urges Hendrix.” Gila News-Courier, December 9, Vol. I No.26. . 1942h. “Flowers, Shrubs, Lawns Beautify School Area.” Gila News-Courier, December 19, Vol. I No.30. . 1942i. “Fryer’s Statement: Residents Urged to Beautify City.” Gila News- Courier, December 23, Vol. I No.4. . 1943a. “Trees Imported to Gila Colony.” Gila News-Courier, January 21, Vol. II No.9. . 1943b. “200 More Trees for City Grounds.” Gila News-Courier, March 2, Vol .II No.26. . 1943c. “Water: Possibility of Rationing Told.” Gila News-Courier, March 25, Vol. II No.36. . 1943d. “Water Situation Becomes Acute; Rush Work to Finish New Wells.” Gila News-Courier, May 29, Vol. II No.64. . 1943e. “City Irrigation Ditch to Save Water by 50%.” Gila News-Courier, June 10, Vol. II No.69. . 1943f. “Thirsty Lawns, Flower Beds Receive Water.” Gila News-Courier, August 3, Vol. II No.92. ------. 1943g. “Anniversary Supplement.” Gila News-Courier, September 13. ------. 1945. “Butte Community Faces Grave Water Shortage.” Gila News-Courier, June 27, Vol. IVNo.51. Ng, Laura. 2014. “Altered Lives, Altered Environments: Creating Home at Manzanar Relocation Center, 1942-1945.” Master’s Thesis, Boston, MA: University of Massachusetts, Department of Anthropology. Ng, Laura, and Stacey L. Camp. 2015. “Consumption in World War II Japanese American Incarceration Camps.” In Historical Archaeologies o f Capitalism, edited by Mark P. Leone and J.E. Knauf, 149-80. Cham: Springer International Publishing. Okihiro, Gary Y. 1984. “Religion and Resistance in America’s Concentration Camps.” Phylon (I960-) 45 (3): 220. Okuno, Y. 1942. “Thirteen Essays with Commentary by Robert F. Spencer.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement 178
records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c930h/?brand=oac4. Omori, Emiko. 2004. Rabbit in the Moon. New York, NY: Furumoto Foundation; New Day Films [distributor]. Opler, Marvin K. 1948. “Review: The Spoilage.” American Anthropologist 50 (2): 307- 10. Ozawa, Shigeko Elizabeth. Interview by author, December 14, 2014. Pulsipher, Lydia. 1994. “The Landscapes and Ideational Roles of Caribbean Slave Gardens.” In The Archaeology o f Garden and Field, edited by Naomi Miller and Kathryn L. Gleason, 202-21. Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press. Robinson, Greg. 2009. A Tragedy o f Democracy: Japanese Confinement in North America. New York, NY: Columbia University Press. Ross, Douglas E. 2013. An Archaeology of Asian Transnationalism. Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida. Sakoda, James. 1949. “Minidoka: An Analysis of Changing Patterns of Social Interaction.” PhD Dissertation, Berkeley, CA: University of California, Berkeley. Saruwatari, Akira. 1944. #37. Saruwatari, Akira Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c586g/?brand=oac4. Sato, Jack Kenzo. 1944. #33. Sato[w], Jack Kenzo Interview by Charles Kikuchi. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 24, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c5828/?brand=oac4. Sawyer-Lang, Monique. 1989. “Recovery of Additional Information From The Gila River Farms Expansion Area: A Study of A Japanese-American Relocation Center.” 53. Cultural Resources Report. Tempe, AZ: Archaeological Consulting Services, Ltd. Shew, Dana Ogo. 2010. “Feminine Identity Confined: The Archaeology of Japanese Women at Amache, A WWII Internment Camp.” Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. Shew, Dana Ogo, and April Kamp-Whittaker. 2013. “Perseverance and Prejudice: Maintaining Community in Amache, Colorado’s World War II Japanese Internment Camp.” In Prisoners of War, edited by Harold Mytum and Gillian Carr, 303-317. New York, NY: Springer. Shibutani, Tamotsu. 1948. “The Circulation of Rumors as a Form of Collective Behavior.” PhD Dissertation, Chicago, II: University of Chicago. Skiles, Stephanie A., and Bonnie J. Clark. 2010. “When the Foreign Is Not Exotic: Ceramics at Colorado’s WWII Japanese Internment Camp.” In Trade and Exchange: Archaeological Studies from History and Prehistory, edited by Carolyn D Dillian and Carolyn L White, 179-192. New York, NY: Springer. Slaughter, Michelle. 2006. “An Archaeological and Ethnographic Examination of the Presence, Acquisition, and Consumption of Sake at Camp Amache, a World War II 179
Japanese Internment Camp.” Master’s Thesis, Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. . 2013. “An Archaeological and Ethnographic Examination of the Acquisition, Presence, and Consumption of Sake at Camp Amache, a World War II Japanese Internment Camp.” In Prisoners o f War, edited by Harold Mytum and Gillian Carr, 285-301. New York, NY: Springer. Spencer, Robert F. 1942a. “Family Life in the Gila Center.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c947w/?brand=oac4. . 1942b. “Recreational Activities.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c9536/?brand=oac4. . 1942c. “Religious Life in the Gila Community.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c9559/?brand=oac4. . 1942d. “Report # 2 on Gila.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://oac.cdhb.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c939g/?brand=oac4. . 1942e. “Social Groups in the Gila Community.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/28722/bk0013c956v/?brand=oac4. . 1943. “A Preliminary Analysis of the Role of Religion.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.Org/ark:/28722/bk0013c954r/?brand=oac4. . 1946. “Japanese Buddhism in the United States, 1940-1946: A Study in Acculturation.” PhD Dissertation, Berkeley, CA: University of California, Berkeley. ------. 1989. “Gila in Retrospect.” In Views From Within: The Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement Study, edited by Yuji Ichioka, 157-174. Los Angeles, CA: Resource Development and Publications, Asian American Studies Center, University of California at Los Angeles. Starke, Zachary. 2015. “Wrestling With Tradition: Japanese Activities at Amache, a World War II Incarceration Facility.” Master’s Thesis, Denver, CO: University of Denver, Department of Anthropology. 180
Starzmann, Maria Theresia. 2015. “The Materiality of Forced Labor: An Archaeological Exploration of Punishment in Nazi Germany.” International Journal of Historical Archaeology 19 (3): 647-63. Sullivan, Mary, Monique Sawyer-Lang, Richard W. Effland Jr., and Margerie Green. 1987. “An Archaeological Survey of The Gila River Farms Expansion, Pinal County, Arizona.” Cultural Resources Report. Tempe, AZ: Archaeological Consulting Services, Ltd. Suzuki, Peter T. 1981. “Anthropologists in the Wartime Camps for Japanese Americans: A Documentary Study.” Dialectical Anthropology 6(1): 23-60. . 1986. “The University of California Japanese Evacuation and Resettlement Study: A Prolegomenon S' Dialectical Anthropology 10 (3): 189-213. Takagi, Dana Y. 1989. “Life History Analysis and JERS: Re-Evaluating the Work of Charles Kikuchi.” In Views From Within: The Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement Study, edited by Yuji Ichioka, 197-216. Los Angeles, CA: Resource Development and Publications, Asian American Studies Center, University of California at Los Angeles. Takaki, Ronald. 1998. Strangers from a Different Shore: A History o f Asian Americans, Updated and Revised Edition. Revised and Updated edition. Boston, MA: Little, Brown and Company. Takeda, Ed. 2015. Interview by author, December 23, 2015 Tamir, Orit, Scott C. Russell, Karolyn Jackman Jensen, and Shereen Lemer. 1993. “Return to Butte Camp: A Japanese-American World War II Relocation Center.” 82. Cultural Resources Report. Tempe, AZ: Archaeological Consulting Services, Ltd. Tamura, A. 2004. “Gardens below the Watchtower: Gardens and Meaning in World War II Japanese American Incarceration C am p s Landscape Journal 23 (1): 1-21. Taylor, Christopher. 1973. The Cambridgeshire Landscape; Cambridgeshire and the Southern Fens: The Making o f the English Landscape. London: Hodder & Stoughton. tenBroek, Jacobus, Edward Norton Barnhart, and Floyd W. Matson. 1954. Prejudice, War, and the Constitution. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement during World War II. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Thomas, Dorothy Swaine, and Richard S. Nishimoto. 1946. The Spoilage. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Thomas, Dorothy Swaine Thomas, Charles Kikuchi, and James Sakoda. 1952. The Salvage. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Tilley, Christopher. 2008. “From the English Cottage Garden to the Swedish Allotment: Banal Nationalism and the Concept of the Garden.” Home Cultures 5 (2): 219—49. Tsuchida, Nobuya. 1984. “Japanese Gardeners in Southern California, 1900-1941.” In Labor Immigration Under Capitalism: Asian Workers in the United States Before 181
WWII, edited by Lucie Cheng and Edna Bonacich, 435-469. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Tsuchiya, Helen Tanigawa. 2009. Interview by Megan Asaka. Densho Digital Archive. Accessed December 14, 2015. http://archive.densho.org/main.aspx. Tsukashima, Ronald Tadao. 2000. “Politics of Maintenance Gardening and the Formation of the Southern California Gardener’s Association.” In Greenmakers = ^ V ——X ; Japanese American Gardeners in Southern California, 66-93. Los Angeles, CA: Southern California Gardeners’ Federation. Voss, Barbara L. 2008. “Between the Household and the World System: Social Collectivity and Community Agency in Overseas Chinese Archaeology.” Historical Archaeology, 42 (3):37-52. War Relocation Authority (WRA). 1945. “Gila River: Community Analysis Section, Final Report.” UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library. Japanese American Evacuation and Resettlement records. Online Archive of California. Accessed January 20, 2016. http://www.oac.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/kt9n39p0gs/?brand=oac4. Wax, Rosalie H. 1971. Doing Fieldwork; Warnings and Advice. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Wax, Rosalie Hankey. 1951. “The Development of Authoritarism: A Comparison of the Japanese-American Relocation Centers and Germany.” PhD Dissertation, Chicago, IL: University of Chicago. Wright, David K. 2010. “Results of Survey and Monitoring For the Proposed GRIC-DPW Installation of a Water Tank and a Water Main From Butte Camp to Preschool Road, Pinal County, Gila River Indian Community, Arizona.” CRMP Technical Report 2010-14. Sacaton, AZ: Cultural Resource Management Program. Yasui, Lise and Ann Tegnell. 1988. Family Gathering. New York, NY: New Day Films. Yentsch, Anne. 1996. “Introduction: Close Attention to Place-Landscape Studies by Historical Archaeologists.” In Landscape Archaeology, edited by Rebecca Yamin and Karen Bescherer Metheny, xxiii - xli. Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press. Yoshihashi, Tok. 2015. Interview by author, December 20, 2015. APPENDIX 1: PHOTO PERMISSONS
Figure 81, p. 126 ©Toyo Miyatake Studios. Used by permission A. Miyatake. Figure 91, p. 138 ©Toyo Miyatake Studios. Used by permission A. Miyatake. OO CO
APPENDIX 2: IRB EXCEPTION NOTICE tpyo8o.fie6.o/»aWwoe=ecMsaetmlel=AkGm22DjT2TtGii5z^WjT5W2TkgGAAM%B{1Yy6vnP%BoBD3. 1/4 . httpsy/ou8ook.office365.com/c»'a^Wewmodel=ReaclMessageltem<emlD=AAMkAGNmY2M2MDIjLTA2NTitNGFiYi05Mz\^LWNjNTU5YWY20TBkMgBGAAAAAMU%2B){21kYTyS6jvrnJP6%2BMoWBwDt3r. 03/05 Exception Notice - Koji Harris Ozawa 10/31/2015 Office of Research and Sponsored Programs Sponsored and Research of Office General Line: (415) 338-1093 (415) Line: General (415)405-4201 Line: Direct Coordinator Compliance time. of ahead office our contact please future, the in project your change to plan you If f ethics. o code professional histories. oral of collection of “Archaeology Ozawa, Koji Dear Cc Douglass W Bailey
*’ does not require further IRB review because the project is the is project the because review IRB further *’require not does 184
APPENDIX 3: ORAL HISTORY FORMS
Oral History Consent Form San Francisco State University, Department of Anthropology Project: The Archaeology o f Gardens at WWII Japanese American Incarceration Camps 1. You are being asked to participate in an interview in connection with the Master’s thesis project of Koji Ozawa, concerning the archaeology of gardens at the Gila River Incarnation Camp. You will be asked about a variety of topics concerning your time in the Camps and your experiences. 2. The interview will be audiotaped, transcribed, and made available for public and scholarly use by the researcher. Your words may be quoted in scholarly and popular publications. 3. If you choose to remain anonymous, you may do so. The information gathered for this project will not be published or presented in a way that would allow anyone to identify you. A pseudonym will be used instead of your given name and all specific references to your identity will be omitted. The audio recording of this interview will then be destroyed. 4. The interview will take approximately 45 minutes to 1 hour. There are no anticipated risks to participation in this interview. However, you can withdraw from the interview at any time without prejudice prior to its completion. You will also have the opportunity to make special provisions or restrictions. During the interview you may request to stop the recording at any time to discuss or clarify how you wish to respond to a question or topic before proceeding. In the event that you choose to withdraw during the interview, any tape made of the interview will be either given to you or destroyed, and no transcript will be made of the interview. 5. Upon completion of the interview, the tape and content of the interview belong to the researcher, and the information in the interview can be in any manner he will >
185
determine, including, but not limited to, future use by researchers in presentations and publications. 6. Any restrictions as to use of portions of the interview indicated by you will be handled by editing those portions out of the final copy of the transcript. 7. If you have questions about the research project or procedures, you can contact Koji Ozawa at (650)-224-4355, Department of Anthropology, San Francisco State University, Fine Arts 525, 1600 Holloway Ave, San Francisco, CA 94132 or email: [email protected].
Interviewer signature______I agree to participate in this interview. Interviewee Printed Name______Interviewee signature______A d d r e s s ______Phone number Date / / 186
Incarceration Camp Oral History Questions
• What was your occupation (or your parent’s) before the evacuation? • Did your family have a garden before evacuation? • What was your first impression of the Camp upon arrival? • What did your barracks apartments look like? What was the number or address? Who did you live with? • Did you add any artwork or furniture? Were things purchased or made by someone? • Did you work in Camp? • What kind of hobbies did you partake in? Was there a garden at your barrack? If yes then: o Who built this garden, or who participated in its construction? o How large was the garden? What did it look like? o What materials were used in the construction of the garden? o What was the design of the garden? o Did it have western or Japanese elements to it? o Where did plants come from? o How did you use the gardens? o Were there many gardens around the camp? • Are there any stories or people that stand out in particular in your mind when you remember the camps?