Idaho Trip: Minidoka

This May, I took a week off of work and flew to Idaho to celebrate a sister’s graduation, a brother’s birthday, and just to spend time with family and friends.  I spent a few days at my parents' house in the small town of Kimberly, Idaho where I grew up.  Kimberly is one of those towns that feels like it hasn’t changed for 50 years.  There is one grocery store, one high school, and a few bars and restaurants whose names are never constant because they always go in and out of business.  Everyone knows everyone, the oldest and most respected families are typically farmers, and almost every kid does FFA or 4-H for fun because there isn’t anything else for kids to do there (Don’t make fun of us—we love it too!). There isn’t even a traffic light in town—that’s how small it is. You might think that I would know everything about this place, yet I am constantly surprised by the new experiences I have each time I go home.

This trip, my mother drove out with me to explore the Minidoka National Historic Site.  I lived in the area for more than 15 years and never knew this place existed. It was less than 30 minutes away from where I grew up.

Minidoka National Historic Site

The Minidoka National Historic Site is 1 of 10 Japanese Internment camps in the United States that was created after President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 on February 19, 1942.  Fear and prejudice were at the heart of this order, which allowed the government to remove Japanese-Americans  living in California, Oregon, Washington, Arizona, and Alaska from their homes and relocate them to these camps to deter possible sabotage and espionage during World War II after the attack at Pearl Harbor.  In the Mindoka Camp, sometimes called the Hunt Camp, over 10,000 Americans of Japanese descent were uprooted from their homes, their businesses, and their lives, and forced to live in dusty Idaho desert.

When we first got there, we noticed the foreboding guard tower and several old stone foundations at the edge of the twisting canal.  The sky was full of storm-threatening clouds and the land expanding around us was full of farm fields green from irrigation.  There was one other car in the parking lot, and the landscape seemed empty save for an elderly couple walking down the trail that meandered through part of the old camp back to their car.  We stopped to wish them a good afternoon.  The woman nodded, the man spoke.  “I lived in this camp with my family,” he said, “I come here almost every year.”

Reconstructed Guard Tower at the Minidoka Intertnment Camp Site

We spoke with them a very long time.  They provided education, perspective, and stories about Japanese children drowning in the canal when swimming, about how it embarrassing it was for the camp residents to share barrack-style open bathrooms, about what kinds of milestones had to be achieved for any Japanese family or individual to even apply to leave the camp.  We learned that the reconstructed guard tower at the site had been built by Boise State Engineering students who only learned what they did about the design from studying old photographs.  He spoke of the dust that permeated the camp back then- how it filled their lungs, their eyes, and how they would wake up each morning with a fresh covering “like talcum-powder.”  He talked about the times when he has seen white people openly weeping about this dark part of our history, while his own family never spoke about the camp after they left.  He called the place the “armpit of Idaho.” When they left, my mother and I felt as though we had received a huge gift.

The "Armpit of Idaho"

 The public part of the Minidoka Site is actually relatively small considering the large size of the camp during 1942 and 1945.  Currently the site is still being developed for the public, but it has a 1.6 mile trail loop that takes the walker around several points of interest.  Considering that the camp was actually 33,000 acres with over 600 buildings, only the aerial photographs shown at educational spots along the trail can give you a glimpse of the huge extent of the camp. When it was being used, the camp consisted of administration and warehouse buildings, schools, fire stations, shops and stores, a hospital, a cemetery, and 36 residential blocks. Each residential block included 12 barracks-style buildings (each divided into six small one-room apartments), a communal dining hall, a laundry facility with communal showers and toilets, and a recreation hall.  Most of the buildings are gone now except for a few.  Along the trail you can see many labeled building foundations, the root cellar that contained the produce the residents grew themselves, and several other buildings including the fire station and portions of one of the residential blocks.

An Administration Building from the Minidoka National Historic Site

Warehouse Foundation from the Minidoka National Historic Site

Building From Block 22 of the Minidoka Internment Camp

Building From Block 22 of the Minidoka Internment Camp

Root Cellar used for Produce Produced by Japanese Americans at the Mindoka Internment Camp

I didn’t visit the Minidoka National Historic Site because I am proud of this part of U.S. history, but rather because it is something that should never EVER be forgotten.  History has a way of repeating itself if you don’t remember lessons from the past and apply them to today.  There is so much more I could say about this- applying it to the War on Terror after the September 11 attacks, or to our Immigration Laws, but instead I will simply encourage you to visit the Minidoka National Historic Site if you ever have the opportunity and to think about this history yourself. 

Seriously- you should go.

Prickly Pear at the Minidoka National Historic Site

For more information about the Minidoka National Historic Site, 

please visit the National Park Service website.