Topaz

The Topaz Relocation Center, located near Delta, Utah, was called “The Jewel of the Desert,” yet historian Leonard Arrington admitted it was not a very attractive place. Its inhospitable alkali-laden soil had frustrated the efforts of two different groups of Mormon pioneers which had once tried to settle there. This “barren valley” at 4,600 feet above sea level had temperatures ranging from 106 degrees in summer to 30 below zero in winter and often fluctuated as much as 50 degrees on the same day.[1] According to Miné Okubo, “In the summer in Topaz we had a choice of being eaten by mosquitoes outdoors or suffocating with the heat indoors. There was no way to get rid of the mosquitoes; the entire area was a breeding ground for them because of the non-absorbent alkaline soil.”[2] Another resident, Toyo Suyemoto, described her initial impression of the camp:

When we stepped down from the buses, we sank almost ankle deep into fine dust. . . . As we entered our barracks, we found the floor covered with a thick layer of alkali dust. Any movement raised white swirling clouds. We could not bring in our luggage until the dust was removed. There was no furniture, just army cots and two mattresses leaning against the unfinished walls. . . . We had to cope with frequent dust storms. It was most fascinating to be indoors with all the windows closed and yet see large, suffocating puffs of dust blow in over the sills. Once the wind abated by evening, there would be a flurry of activity—shaking out blankets, pillows, and clothing, sweeping and mopping floors, doing extra laundry. As they must have done in former homes, the women and their older children cleaned their quarters systematically.[3]

Suyemoto also remembered, “The camp contained forty-two blocks, thirty-five of which were residential. All the blocks looked alike, so that later, weeks after we had settled in, camp residents would occasionally lose their sense of direction at night and wander into a barracks not their own, much to their embarrassment and that of the occupants.”[4] It would take some time for the internees to orient themselves both physically and emotionally.

Friends from outside the camp tried to bring comfort and encouragement as frequently as possible. As Yoshiko Uchida recalled,

On our third Sunday in camp, we had our first visitors from outside. . . . They were the first of many non-Japanese friends who came to see us offering their concern, support, and encouragement. All of them came laden with such welcome snacks as cookies, cakes, candy, potato chips, peanut butter, and fruit. We were enormously grateful for these gifts and for other packages that came through the mail (all examined before we received them), for they not only gladdened our hearts, they supplemented our meager camp diet. Some friends came faithfully every week, standing in line from one to three hours for a pass to come inside the gates.[5]

Other friends spoke out on behalf of the Nikkei. Dr. E. Stanley Jones, who was forthright in his opposition to the internment, summed up his views during a visit to Topaz:

[To] lump together everyone, loyal and disloyal, citizen and non-citizen, was a tragic blunder for which we are already paying dear. Besides laying out $80,000,000 a year to maintain the camps, we have struck a shattering blow at the loyalty of Japanese Americans. . . . Our blunder was made when we . . . allowed an army officer to decide, on the basis of the prejudice, hysteria, and vested interests of a vocal minority of Californians, what the nation should have decided on the basis of the principles of democracy. . . . “These camps are a monument to American stupidity,” I said to a high-up Caucasian official. . . . I waited for the officer to disagree with my statement. But he replied, “I entirely agree with you.”[6]

Some non-Japanese friends also chose to live inside the barbed-wire fence. Roscoe Bell and his family of six moved to Utah when he became the chief of agriculture at Topaz. The Bells intentionally engaged with the Japanese American community instead of associating exclusively with the Caucasian staff. They sent their children to school with the internees and attended the Nikkei church. Roscoe Bell appreciated these worship services “because of the enthusiasm and meaningful Christianity that was practiced by the church members.”[7] His wife, Gladys, recalled their first Sunday with the camp church:

The Topaz Relocation Center covered 17,000 acres with adequate water for irrigation, so “Bell’s assignment was to plan and implement farming and livestock operations capable of feeding the entire camp population.”[9] Gradually, internees began to offer their expertise in landscaping and agriculture. One elderly gentleman introduced himself to Bell as Mr. Matsuoka:

Rev. Nishimura tells me that you are a Christian. I am a Christian, too, and I want to help you. Back in California, I was a dealer in farm supplies. Thus I was acquainted with farmers all over the state. I know the farmers and how they farm. I know those who have the greatest ability. I can help you select people who are competent to head the various parts of the agricultural operation.[10]

Bell oversaw the agriculture program as well as the poultry and hog raising operations. “In all, the agriculture program produced foodstuffs totaling $200,000 per year.”[11] Bell attributed their success to good relationships between supervisors and workers and he treated the Nikkei as he would have liked to be treated himself (see Matthew 7:12). In fact, when the internees once went on strike,

Bell found out later that the work stoppage ended after several residents spent the night going from block to block to persuade the internees to go back to work. “We can’t do this to Mr. Bell,” they reportedly said. The words resonated with the internees, Bell thought, because the entire Bell family had demonstrated their concern and sincerity by being deeply involved in the Japanese American community.[12]

Bell later reflected on his three years at Topaz:

All in all, it was a tremendous experience . . . working with people who had every cause to be embittered, but were not; people who were optimistic and cooperative; and people we enjoyed. . . . It was for us, both individually and as a family, a faith-strengthening experience, from the beginning, with our guidance from God for us to go to Topaz.[13]

Early on, the Topaz Center Christians organized an Interfaith Church Council for cooperative work regarding the center’s facilities. The Topaz Center maintained an interfaith library in the church offices. It would be used not only ministers and priests, but also the general public.[14] Taylor reported on this diversity of beliefs:

Approximately 40 percent of the residents were Protestant and 40 percent Buddhist. The other 20 percent were Catholic, and there were twenty-six Seventh-Day Adventist families, plus a small number with no religion. . . . The Protestants and the Buddhists met in an old [Civilian Conservation Corps] CCC camp building moved from Callao, Utah, and the Catholics and Seventh-Day Adventists shared another building. Services were held in both English and Japanese.[15]

This same comradery was extended to the interdenominational leadership of the Topaz Protestant Church. According to Mrs. Yoshio Isokawa, who faithfully served as the Japanese-speaking church’s secretary, “I remember so many of the preachers who were in the centers. Fourteen different denominations came together into one church.”[16] The ministers chose a common creed and shared the duties of leadership.[17] As Rev. Taro Goto recalled,

Within a few weeks I was elected to head all religious programs in the camp. . . . Protestant ministers carried vigorously the ministry of visitation of individuals in need and in the preaching of the gospel in the open air as well as in churches and numerous cottage meetings. They have also rendered their various talents in education, recreation, and other community activities. Ministers had never had such splendid opportunities as they did in the camp situation. Conversions of many persons took place in the camp.[18]

The Topaz Protestant Church was formalized in early November 1942 with about 300 in attendance, but having space to worship would be a continual challenge. According to one account, “Sunday school classes have to be held in close proximity [in] rooms without partitions, so that each teacher has to shout in order for the scholars to hear at all, and then there are all kinds of distractions which sap a great deal of the teacher’s power.”[19] Still, Dave Tatsuno remembered those days fondly: “We attended church services, taught Sunday-school classes, and helped to start a YMCA. Once we had a YMCA camp out in the desert, tasting a breath of freedom, with chapel services and fellowship around the glowing campfire. Also, we took a group of high-school students from Topaz to speak at churches in Salt Lake City.”[20] Rev. Eiji “James” Suehiro, who could minister in both English and Japanese, spoke of a church with about 500 active members: “Bible study was very popular in the camp—a study of the Book of Romans was conducted on Tuesdays over a one-and-one-half year period—and many Christians gathered together for the study. As a pastor, I have never since experienced in my ministry such a good opportunity to evangelize Japanese Americans as during this camp period.”[21] The church also hosted a National Christian Preaching Mission from October 24-29, 1943 during which Dr. Jones declared that “the Japanese Americans are not a problem . . . they are possibilities” and Rev. Shigeo Shimada prayed for the church to endure:

Rev. Masamoto Nishimura, responsible for publicizing the activities of the Protestant church, reminisced about the plentiful ministry opportunities:

Generally speaking, for Japanese evangelism, it was a time of great gatherings, even from the days of Tanforan Assembly Center. After going into Topaz Center, at the World Communion Sunday, the place was packed, so we all took communion but we did it in two shifts. We used the small paper cups for communion. The Church was united in one spirit and it was a moving spirit. . . . On Easter of 1943, we had a baptismal service, with twenty candidates. There was a great sand storm, but in spite of it we had the baptismal service. The impression of that occasion is unforgettable. There was a girl who [had been] shot and there was a tense feeling. The Administration tried to dissuade the Christians from holding a Sunrise service, but the spirit was high, so the Sunrise service was successfully held.[23]

The Topaz Protestant Church practiced baptism and communion as the only two sacraments ordained in Scripture. Baptism, by immersion in water, visibly represented the inward change in believers who died to sin and were raised to new life in Christ. According to Romans 6:3-4, “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” Baptism was a time of celebration for the church, especially in seasons of persecution such as the internment.

Communion, or the Lord’s Supper, visibly displayed how Jesus Christ became flesh and shed his blood on the cross for the forgiveness of sins. Christians throughout all ages practiced this sacrament in remembrance of Christ’s work. As Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 11:23b-25, “The Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, ‘This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’” Taking communion together demonstrated that the church was united by its common faith in Jesus Christ.

Ministers at Topaz continued to preach Christ as in one Christmas sermon by Rev. Joseph Tsukamoto:

Just as Jesus spent that first Christmas in a lowly stable, so also the Christians at Topaz endured less than ideal circumstances away from home. Yet Jesus chose his lot for the sake of others and voluntarily “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). Christmas took on this significance for the internees since their lives had been stripped of distractions. Dave Tatsuno wrote an essay about the center-wide Christmas program organized by the young people:

Another resident, Tad Fujita, remembered over 2,600 packages arriving from churches all over the country:

I started to distribute these small gifts—one by one to all the little children. I shall never forget the excitements these little gifts created. Smiles and laughters and as they impatiently ripped the wrappers with anxiety to see what each child received, I couldn’t help but feel those “lumps” in my throat. I don’t remember now but I’m certain my eyes welled up when I witnessed the happiness on those small faces—but more than that, I gave a silent prayer for those thoughtful and generous people who went to the trouble of gathering them and sending them out to the scores of small children behind the barbed wires.[26]

The Topaz Protestant Church experienced this love of Christ from fellow Christians outside the camp and passed on Christ’s love to all the internees within. “The Jewel of the Desert” was not the camp itself, but the beauty of Christ manifest through his church.

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[1] Leonard J. Arrington, The Price of Prejudice: The Japanese American Relocation Center in Utah during World War II (Logan, UT: Utah State University, 1962).

[2] Okubo also claimed, “[It was] impossible to see anything through the dust. . . . When we finally battled our way into the safety of the building we looked as if we had fallen into a flour barrel” (Okubo, Citizen 13660, 123).

[3] Toyo Suyemoto, “Another Spring,” 30-31. Additional stories have now been recorded at topazstories.com.

[4] Toyo Suyemoto Kawakami, “Camp Memories: Rough and Broken Shards,” in Relocation to Redress, 27.

[5] Uchida, Desert Exile, 84.

[6] E. Stanley Jones, “Barbed-Wire Christians,” sermon delivered at the Topaz Relocation Center (October 1943).

[7] Roscoe Bell, “Relocation Center Life,” Western Americana, Marriott Library, University of Utah.

[8] Gladys K. Bell, “Memories of Topaz: Japanese War Relocation Center, 1942-1945” (1981), 15. Originally published in the Hokubei Mainichi. Her husband added, “Many were converts from Buddhism and had a more vital type of religion than many of [us] who have been raised in the religion of our parents” (Roscoe E. Bell, “Relocation Center Life: Topaz, Utah, 1942-1945” [Unpublished memoir, 1982], 13).

[9] Seigel, In Good Conscience, 123.

[10] Bell, “Relocation Center Life,” 17.

[11] Seigel, In Good Conscience, 125.

[12] Ibid., 127.

[13] Bell, “Relocation Center Life,” 39.

[14] J. Stillson Judah, the librarian at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California started a project to “establish small libraries of religious books for Japanese ministers in the WRA camps. . . . We hope to have about a hundred volumes in each camp library, and intend to rotate these every few months among the several centers” (Letter from Judah to Eugene B. Hawk [17 November 1942], Box 1/Fld 2, Judah Papers, GTU). Like other aid programs, Judah’s efforts reminded incarcerees that people on the outside were “still try[ing] to practice the ideal of the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man . . . when this world is full of bitterness, hatred and strife” (Blankenship, Social Justice, 74; Letter from Yoshikazu Horikoshi to Judah [26 January 1943], Box 1/Fld 11, Judah Papers, GTU; Letter from Junichi Fujimori to Judah [24 January 1944], Box 1/Fld 13, Judah Papers, GTU). Even though Judah was liberal-minded, he sought to make each library representative of various Christian backgrounds for the sake of ecumenism. He also found himself offering pastoral counsel to Nikkei ministers through his correspondence with them regarding new titles, lost books, and exchanges. Judah believed his library had the power “to weld the new faith into their hearts so that they will become better and stronger Christians” (Letter from Judah to George Aki [15 and 17 March and 14 April 1943], Box 1/Fld 12, Judah Papers, GTU).

[15] Taylor also added, “Buddhists and Christians cooperated at Topaz, forming an interfaith group; this was apparently unusual among the relocation camps. In 1944 Easter and Buddha’s birthday fell on the same day, so both congregations held Easter services in the morning and Buddhist services in the afternoon” (Taylor, Jewel, 155-56).

[16] Interview with Yoshio Isokawa, cited in Suzuki, Ministry, 172.

[17] “The Protestant ministers rotated their preaching, and they were aided by Caucasians from the outside: [the Reverend W. Carl] Nugent, the Reverend Frank Herron Smith, and others, including the well-known missionary to Japan, the Reverend E. Stanley Jones. The Protestants were concentrated in Block 28” (Taylor, Jewel, 155).

[18] Letter from Taro Goto to Lester E. Suzuki (12 November 1971), cited in Suzuki, Ministry, 192.

[19] Gordon K. Chapman, “Meeting the Unexpected: Annual Report of the Special Representative for Japanese Work—1942” (3 March 1943), Box 17/Fld 8, RG 93, UPCUSA BFM Papers.

[20] Dave M. Tatsuno, “The Star Still Shines,” in Triumphs, 136. The Protestant Young People’s Fellowship was organized into two separate divisions: high school and young adults.

[21] OMS Holiness Church of North America, “Eiji Suehiro” (10 October 1989), accessed at http://kuzuharalibrary.com/testimonies/suehiro.html (also recorded in Sugimura, Holiness Church, 174). Mas Wakai encouraged the weary internees “Despite these handicaps there are some essentials of home life which must be continued if the complete breakdown of home ties is to be avoided. One of these is the devotional life in which the cares, the problems, the triumphs, the failures, and the successes and mistakes of life can be shared and taken before God Himself” (Topaz Times [11 December 1942], 4).

[22] Shigeo Shimada, a prayer from Topaz reprinted in the Manzanar Christian Church Bulletin (30 July 1944).

[23] Interview with Rev. Nishimura cited in Suzuki, Ministry, 172.

[24] Topaz Times (24 December 1942), 4.

[25] Dave M. Tatsuno, “The Star Still Shines,” in Triumphs, 137.

[26] Letter from Tad Fujita, cited in Suzuki, Ministry, 190.