Quotes from Survivors and Descendants of Minidoka

Contact Robyn Achilles at info@minidoka.org or 208-278-6066 for interview requests

 

Mary (Tanaka) Abo

Survivor — Block 2, Barrack 2

The spirit of all who were imprisoned in Minidoka can be felt and heard in the swirling sand.”

Family Story: Mary (Tanaka) Abo's family lived in Juneau, Alaska, where her father, Shonosuke, owned a cafe. During WWII, he was separated from his family and incarcerated at the Department of Justice camp in Santa Fe with other Alaskan Issei men. Mary's mother, Nobu; brothers, John and Bill; sister, Alice; were sent to Minidoka along with Alaskan Native wives and children. Mary's family returned to Juneau after the war.

Photos: Top - Mary (Tanaka) Abo, bottom - Mary (Tanaka) Abo with her mother, Magosuke Tanaka, at Minidoka. Photos courtesy of Mary Abo.

 

 

Lawrence Matsuda

Survivor - Block 26, Barrack 2

Minidoka National Historic Site is a sacred place and a reminder of America’s promise of ‘liberty and justice for all.’ The proposed 400 windmill project next to Minidoka desecrates the landscape and obliterates the American stories of survival embedded in this sacred land."

Family Story: Lawrence Matsuda was born in the Minidoka Concentration Camp during World War II. He is a poet/writer and his work includes Cold Wind from Idaho, Glimpses of a Forever Foreigner, and My Name is Not Viola. He served on the board of directors for Friends of Minidoka and has visited Minidoka at least seven times as part of the Minidoka Pilgrimage. The Idaho Statesman published Larry’s op-ed on Lava Ridge in February 2022 for the 80th Anniversary of the signing of Executive Order 9066.

Photos: Top - Lawrence Matsuda, bottom - Larry’s mother, Hanae Matsuda, Larry’s brother Alan Matsuda in front of Hanae, Larry’s cousin Arlene Nishimura Hee in the middle, other children unknown. Photos courtesy of Larry Matsuda.


 

David Sakura

Survivor — Block 15, Barrack 8

“At 86, I am one of a dwindling number of Minidoka internees. My hope is that even after I’m gone, the Minidoka National Historic Site will continue to serve as a source of inspiration and education for future generations and to honor the indomitable spirit of those internees that lived behind its barb wire fences. I believe that the close proximity of the Lava Ridge Wind Project to Minidoka will significantly degrade the Minidoka experience for future visitors.  I hope that without the intrusion of the massive wind farm, my children, grandchildren, and subsequent generations will be able to experience the isolation and remoteness of Minidoka and thus hear the whispers of the spirits that our family and others have left behind.”

Family Story: David Sakura and his family were forcibly removed from their home in Eatonville WA in May 1942 to Puyallup Detention Center (euphemistically called “Camp Harmony.”). Shortly after their arrival, David’s father, Chester, responded to a call for able body workers and left Minidoka for three months to help in the harvest of the sugar beet crop. Then in early 1943, David’s father volunteered into the US Army, serving with the Military Intelligence Service (MIS), and leaving David, his mother and three brothers living behind barb wire. Before the end of the war, David and his family were granted an indefinite leave and permanently settled in Milwaukee, WI.

Photos: Top - David Sakura, bottom - David with his brothers and parents at Minidoka. His father is in uniform and served in the US Army with Military Intelligence Services. Photos courtesy of David Sakura.


 

Ken Mochizuki

Descendant


"The scene of the crime needs to be left the way it was, a solemn spot for revisiting and learning."

Family Story: For the past 40 years, Ken Mochizuki has been a journalist and historian with a focus on Asian American and particularly Japanese American history. He is the author of books for young readers, most notably Baseball Saved Us. Ken’s mother, father, and their families were incarcerated at Minidoka.

Photos: Top— Ken Mochizuki, bottom— Ken Mochizuki’s mother, Miyeko Nakano (center, standing) with her family at Minidoka, 1945. They were incarcerated in Block 28 - Barrack 4. Photos courtesy of Ken Mochizuki.

 

Dan Sakura

Descendant

"Minidoka is our past and our future.  It's where we deal with the pain of the incarceration.  By preserving these sites, Japanese Americans have moved from victims, to witnesses, to leaders on the frontlines of racial justice."

Family Story: Dan Sakura’s father and extended family were incarcerated at Minidoka (see David Sakura’s profile and family story). For over twenty years, Dan has worked with the Japanese American community, non-profit partners and the National Park Service to create, expand and protect World War II-era Japanese American confinement sites. A descendant of three-generations of Minidoka survivors from Washington State, Dan led efforts to designate Minidoka as a National Monument in 2001, expand it via bipartisan legislation in 2008 and protect it from the LS Power high-voltage power line in 2009. He has also worked with Members of Congress, the National Park Service and non-profit partners to add Tule Lake and Honouliuli to the National Park System, as well as preserve lands at Topaz and pass legislation to authorize the Amache National Historic Site. Dan serves as advisor to Friends of Minidoka on the fight to protect Minidoka National Historic Site from the Lava Ridge Wind Project.

Photos: Top— Dan Sakura, bottom— Dan Sakura’s father, uncles, grandparents, and great grandparents were incarcerated at Minidoka. Dan’s grandfather Chester and his brothers volunteered for the US Army while their family remained incarcerated at Minidoka. Photos courtesy of Dan Sakura.


 

Wendy Tokuda

Descendant

“I am the child of prisoners and their experience colored my whole life. I was born 5 years after my mother and oldest brother left Minidoka, and grew up seeped in my parent’s pain and anxiety.  We felt it as if we were still there.  Even after a successful career as a Television News Anchor, I still feel it. Minidoka is in my bones.

This is why Minidoka must be treated with respect. It reminds us all what can happen when racism gets out of control. Part of the experience of going to Minidoka, seeing the desolate desert surroundings. Japanese Americans were sent to these remote locations so there would be no chance of sabotage. 

The proposed windmills, the size of the Seattle Space Needle, would dwarf the historic site into a footnote. A tiny stamp. A little dot next to the main attraction- the windmill farm. Visitors would miss one of the key features of the current site- its location in a desolate spot in the desert. Frankly, this feels like an insult. A diminishing of our experience. A disrespect. Yes, an insult.”

Family Story: Wendy Tokuda’s mother was a senior at the University of Washington when her family was forcibly evacuated from their home in Seattle. She was never able to finish college. In Minidoka, she met George Tokuda, a young pharmacist from Seattle. George was able to leave camp to work in Chicago, and Tama later joined him to get married. Conditions were so hostile in Chicago that when she got pregnant, a friend warned her not to have her baby there. So Tama returned to Minidoka to have the baby, where she could be with her family. When the camps were closed, George returned to Seattle to try to buy his store back, and Tama and the baby joined him there.

Wendy Tokuda’s op ed appeared in The Seattle Times on February 19, 2022, and a story on her family aired on the NBC Nightly News on February 18, 2022.

Photos: Top, Wendy Tokuda, bottom, Wendy Tokuda’s mother, Tama, is on the right. The photo was taken by a White friend visiting Tama while she was incarcerated at the Puyallup “Assembly Center”. Photos courtesy of Wendy Tokuda.