LaPriel Strong Bush

LaPRIEL STRONG BUSH
Camp: Manzanar, CA
Address: 7-9-1 & K-1 Administrative Housing

When I was 11, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Even as a kid, I noticed the headlines warning of possible Japanese submarines off the California coast. Would the mainland be next? Were Japanese spies lurking in our midst? That was the sentiment that gave rise to the idea of relocating Japanese American residents to inland camps.

Some Caucasians were also relocated. My father Dr. W. Melvin Strong became director of adult education at Manzanar War Relocation Camp, and we were on our way.

My father wrote a pamphlet, entitled “Why Relocate,” that attempted to explain the phenomenon [of starting life again in the Midwest and East] to Caucasian and Nisei residents alike.I remember the long bus ride across the Nevada desert from Salt Lake City to Manzanar in Southern California. We had sold our house and most of our possessions, except for an old piano that made the journey with us (I still have it today). We all looked forward to a great adventure in a historic setting, and to helping the war effort.

I remember my first view of the camp: The distinctive rock-walled entrance station, guard towers, barbed wire fence, but most of all the dramatic rise of the mountains all around. It was a stark, but spectacular setting.

We moved into our barrack and settled into a routine. My father insisted I attend school up the road in Independence, even though some of the other adults commented that I should attend school in Manzanar with the Nisei, since what was happening there was “so historic.”

I took part in many activities in camp, along with both Nisei and Caucasian kids. Summer evenings were spent watching free movies, or playing “kick the can,” under the watchful eye of armed guards in the towers.

We socialized with everyone we knew, from Nisei residents to the camp director Ralph Merritt, without regard to racial background. In fact, I remember being impressed with the peaceful and productive way that everyone “got along.”

I remember my father saying a noted photographer was visiting the camp, and asked if I wanted to meet him. I declined, but have since regretted missing the chance to meet Ansel Adams, who was there preparing his famous photo essay.

Other memories include enjoying the flower and vegetable gardens, tended by both Caucasian and Nisei residents that dotted the camp; eating the wonderful food in the mess hall; and exploring every inch of this fascinating place.

Our family traveled up the steep, switch ­backing road to Whitney Portal for mountain picnics, and posed for pictures on a giant glacial boulder with carved steps.

As the war progressed, the feeling of panic subsided and the reasons for the camp’s existence began to evaporate. My father found a new job, and we soon moved away from Manzanar to what was, for me, just another “new adventure.”

For many years thereafter, I had heard that nothing remained of the camp. In 1988, my husband and I went there with my son and his family. As I approached that same rock-walled entrance station, with the nearby mountains towering in the afternoon sunlight, I was overcome with emotion.

Manzanar represented childhood adventure and excitement to me, and the experiences there will live on in our family’s shared memories. I have no doubt that Manzanar represents a great tragedy for many Nisei, but it was an event that needs to be understood in the context of its own time.

Wind and Dust
This wind and dust I have to bear
How hard it blows I do not care.
But when the wind begins to blow –
­My morale is pretty low.
I know that I can see it through
Because others have to bear it too.
So I will bear it with the rest
And hope the outcome is the best.
– George Nishimura, age 16 (Manzanar, 1943)

Read this to learn more about the demographics of each of the ten facilities administered by the War Relocation Authority.

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