Tule Lake

Tule Lake

The Tule Lake Relocation Center in the Klamath Falls Basin of Northern California was not much of an improvement over the temporary assembly centers. The dust storms were so bad that some people even wore goggles to bed.

It was flat, hard, dusty land with only a single tree big enough to provide shade in the entire 7,400-acre compound. To the west was a bare, craggy ridge called Castle Rock; to the east, a treeless flat-topped butte called Horse Mountain. To the south lay acres of lava outcroppings, harsh, black and barren, more like a lunar landscape than an earthly one. Tule Lake itself was a long-dried-up lake bed. . . .

There were long lines at the mess hall [and] whatever they ate—potatoes, rice, Spam, hash, overcooked liver—the Tuleans called “slop suey,” because the servers dumped it unceremoniously on their tin plates where it all ran together. . . . Lack of privacy was a way of life. One internee later wrote, “Evacuees ate communally, showered communally and defecated communally.”[1]

Rev. Daisuke Kitagawa recalled his travels from Pinedale to Tule Lake:

Once again, I found myself on a train crowded with men, women, children—and luggage. Again the train windows were “blindfolded.” . . . Presently we were told that we had arrived at our destination, Tule Lake. Another processing—family number, contents of luggage, etc., etc. Tired, sleepy, and uninspired by that prospect, I got off the train. Lo and behold, I was greeted by a hill overshadowing the camp, and beyond that hill was the snow-clad peak of Mount Shasta. I can never forget my emotions when I saw these, for almost unconsciously I mumbled to myself, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills; from whence cometh my help? My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth.”[2]

This comfort from Psalm 121:1-2 flowed into his heart even in his state of exhaustion. The majesty of the mountains reminded him that God, the creator of heaven and earth, was by his side. Instead of allowing his circumstances to change his view of God, he allowed his view of God to change how he saw his circumstances.

Kitagawa became priest-in-charge of Episcopalians in the Tule Lake Relocation Center in Newell, California where he observed critically, but without bitterness, the camp’s devastating impact on the young Japanese (the Nisei). The experience forged his lasting belief in the universal Church’s agency in a vital gospel ministry of social and cultural healing.[3]

Before any seasoned ministers arrived, Tom Uyeno and Tom Okabe had organized a group of Christian young people on May 31, 1942. They invited Rev. George Almond, a minister from the nearby town of Tule Lake, to deliver the sermon.[4] Soon, however, successive waves of internees arrived, bringing Kitagawa and his Nisei co-laborers, Shigeo Tanabe and Andrew Kuroda. “On the second Sunday in Tule Lake, Kuroda led a morning worship service, organized a Sunday school, and arranged for an outside lecturer to engage fifty young people that evening. He immediately began planning a unified Protestant Church that resembled the church he led in Salem.”[5] Kitagawa described the flurry of ministry:

There was a barracks in each ward which could be used as a chapel and that while there was to be a Japanese-language service in each ward, there would be only three English-language services in the whole camp, to be taken care of by Kuroda, Tanabe, and myself. I was not released from taking the Japanese service for Ward VI either. On top of that, they put me in charge of the Sunday school, which had twelve hundred children and fifty or sixty teachers, with real possibilities of growing still bigger.[6]

Christian leaders in the camp decided together on the name: the Tule Lake Union Church. Then within a few weeks, the camp newspaper, the Tulean Dispatch, began to announce the scheduled church services. Each Sunday began with prayer meetings and worship services in both Japanese and English, then Sunday school classes for all ages. People were asked to bring their own chairs if they cared to sit since there were not enough benches available.[7] Kuroda estimated that about 400 attended the Issei service and 400 more for the Nisei.[8]

Throughout the summer as more people arrived in the center, the church would organize a choir, the Christian News Letter, a church loan library, Bible study classes, a women’s club, and fellowships for youth and young adults. They held services for Issei and Nisei as well as a discussion group for Christian Kibei.[9] Tule Lake was also one of the few centers which organized a successful Young People’s Christian Conference (YPCC). Over 700 young people came for singing, sermons, and symposiums during a three-day conference in April 1943.[10] According to Rev. James M. Sakoda, the regular “Sunday evening meetings have always been popular, and at least half or three-quarters of a recreation hall has always been filled with youths around the age of twenty. . . . Many have to stand in the rear and a few even overflow out of the door.”[11]

As the church grew larger, limited space required that they meet separately for worship. The English congregation began to gather in three different locations, though all still met at 10:00 a.m. The Japanese division held preaching services in each of the eight wards. The wealth of preachers provided the congregations with timely messages from various perspectives and Rev. Kuroda wrote of the “wonderful opportunity for Christians: . . . Problems [and people] are abundant. . . . [We] don’t have to go around to look” for them.[12] Kuroda himself would preach a powerful sermon entitled, “Being a Christian in Times Like These.”[13]

The Christian church helped stem much of the social unrest arising in the camp. For example, many observed the rapid deterioration of the family structure. Families no longer ate together due to the crowded mess halls and most children would leave their barracks early in the morning and not return home for the rest of the day. Since the government now provided for the people’s welfare, the second-generation Nisei experienced greater independence from their Issei parents. Fathers relinquished their role as leaders in the home. Mothers lost the privilege of nurturing their families with love.

Moreover, in the eyes of young children, their parents were definitely inferior to their grown-up brothers and sisters, who as U.S. citizens could elect and be elected members of the Community Council. For all these reasons many youngsters lost confidence in, and respect for, their parents. The loss of the family table and family kitchen was not simply a loss of opportunity to teach table manners to growing children, but a forceful symbol of the breakdown of that human institution which transmits moral and spiritual values from one generation to another. Man, indeed, does not live by bread alone.[14]

As Kitagawa reflected,

The place [camp] was a symbol of hatred and jealousy, inner conflict and enmity, that got the better of humanity—a symbol of what the Bible calls the wages of sin. And the fifteen thousand of us who were confined there were by no means free from those black things that characterized humanity at large. . . . Indeed, it is no exaggeration at all when I say that there I saw humanity at its best and at its worst.[15]

The Tule Lake Union Church made special efforts to celebrate the Christian holidays. In preparation for Easter 1943, a large cross was erected on the summit of Castle Rock and dedicated at the service to remind the church that although Christ died by Roman crucifixion, he rose to life again three days later. Many new believers were baptized that Sunday. Then on the following Easter, Rev. Masahiro Omi preached again on the saving message of the cross: “It is indeed, the power and wisdom of God by which the lost sinners can be reconciled to the holy and just God and live a life according to the law of God [1 Corinthians 1:17]. . . . O, let the message of the Cross be proclaimed by the partakers of Christ and His blessings.”[16] Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year were other important events in the life of the church and involved unique interfaith festivities in 1943.

Noboru Honda, a distinguished leader of the Buddhist group at Tule Lake and a member of the Community Council, read Psalm 23, and read it beautifully. Christians and Buddhists, Issei and Nisei, Caucasian and Japanese, WRA personnel and evacuees, participated, and the service was as close to the ancient agricultural festival as any Thanksgiving Day I had ever celebrated. When the previously barren soil brings forth the fruits of the earth, however it may have happened, man cannot help rejoicing. For one day we forgot all our troubles and were thankful to be alive. . . .

By the middle of December . . . the warehouse at Tule Lake was filled with all sorts of packages, large and small—Christmas remembrances sent to the children by countless church and civic groups throughout the country in response to an appeal made by the newly created Committee on Resettlement of Japanese Americans of the Federal Council of Churches. Every child, Christian and non-Christian alike, had a Christmas present. Those gifts sent to relocation centers were indeed more than just toys and books. They were carriers of good will from American men, women, and children to the adults and children of Japanese descent who were confined in the relocation centers. Few people were as painfully aware as I how badly the Japanese were in need of some visible sign of good will toward them from the American people at that time. Without such reassurance, many of them might have gone completely to pieces. . . .

A new year was thus ushered in while a midnight watch service was held by the flickering light of candles. There were no church bells to herald the coming of the new year there. But to the Issei, even after so many decades away from their old country, New Year’s Day was still the biggest and most important festival of all. They made the most of it, returning thanks to God for having brought them to the beginning of a new year and petitioning him that this new year might turn out to be better than the one just ended.[17]

These new traditions brought together people of different religions, however, much would change at the end of 1943 when Tule Lake became a segregation center. On May 24, 1944, a Japanese construction worker driving a lumber truck into the camp was senselessly shot and killed by an army sentry. At his funeral, “nine thousand people stood bare-headed for hours in a chill wind and a drizzle of rain . . . to pay lasting tribute to the memory of Shoichi James Okamoto.”[18] Unrest began to crop up in different pockets of the camp, particularly among the Kibei—those second-generation Japanese Americans who had received their schooling in Japan.[19] Then in January 1943, the WRA issued questionnaires to males of Japanese ancestry in a push for voluntary induction into a separate combat unit. Two of the questions were highly debated within all the centers.

Question 27: Are you willing to serve in the armed forces of the United States on combat duty, whenever ordered?

Question 28: Will you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States of America and faithfully defend the United States from any or all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance to the Japanese emperor, or any other foreign government, power, or organization?[20]

These questions resulted in endless confusion and sharp divisions among camp residents. The Issei were offended that the United States would lock them up unjustly, then ask their sons to fight against their own relations in Japan.[21] In addition, to renounce their Japanese citizenship while they were still not allowed to become American citizens would leave them as a people without a country. On the other hand, many Nisei seized this opportunity to demonstrate their patriotism once-and-for-all and often enlisted against the expressed will of their parents. Kitagawa, attempting to mediate between the two factions, described how Question 28 was really an impossible question:

Among the Issei a heated debate was going on day and night as to whether they should register at all. Some of us, upon finding out what the questions were, immediately pointed out to the administration how unfair the second question was to the Issei, for to answer No to it would have made them categorically disloyal to the United States, while to answer Yes would have made them virtually men without a country. We strongly advised the WRA to drop that question from the form to be filled out by the Issei.[22]

The questionnaire essentially split each of the relocation camps into two parties. The minority, who answered “No” to both questions, were called the “No-No” boys and labeled “disloyal” by the U.S. government. They were all transferred to Tule Lake and segregated to prevent them from influencing others.[23] Many of the “No-No” boys would eventually renounce their citizenship and accept repatriation to Japan in a practice many viewed as “good riddance.” Congressman J. Leroy Johnson (R – California) “sought to revoke the citizenship of all who had replied ‘no’ to the ill-administered, sloppily framed loyalty question”[24] and Representative Clair Engle (D – California) also pushed for broader legislation: “We don’t want those Japs back in California and the more we can get rid of the better.”[25]

Any “loyal” residents of Tule Lake who did not wish to stay were then distributed among the other centers. Before they boarded the trains, however, a large community-wide worship service was held at the Tri-State High School auditorium where Rev. Kitagawa preached from Luke 9:62, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

The past has a way of taking on, in man’s mind, an idealized form and appearing infinitely better than it actually was. In the wilderness, the Israelites were full of complaints and grievances against Moses, for when they looked back to the life of bondage in Egypt, they recalled only that they had something to eat, however meager and scanty, every day. “Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate bread to the full” (Exodus 16:3). When you go out of the relocation center and resumed your lives in the general stream of American society, you would undoubtedly have moments of wondering why in heaven’s name you had decided to leave Tule Lake. Such moments may be caused by the hostility of prejudiced people, by a prolonged period of unemployment, by unsatisfactory employment or housing, or even inexplicable discouragement—things not just going right. When these moments come, you are bound to feel homesick for the relocation center—not because it was a wonderful place, but chiefly because, in spite of all its injustices of which it is a symbol, yet it was a measure of security and a deep sense of belonging to one another. . . . There is no question whatsoever that Tule Lake will continue to have a soft spot in your heart, and this is good. None of us should leave this place with bitterness against it in his heart. But beware this place become “fleshpot and bread of Egypt” to you. The path of the Promised Land is always hard; it invariably includes long nights of darkness and vast areas of wilderness, but do not look back. Let the past bury the past, and press forward into the future, unknown but gloriously promising.[26]

Dr. Clarence Gillett, a former missionary to Japan, also preached from 2 Kings 6:17, “Then Elisha prayed and said, ‘O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see.’ So the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.” Gillett claimed that the Lord would supernaturally protect the Nikkei in ways they could not presently see with their limited spiritual sight. Kitagawa reflected,

It was a wonderful message of reassurance to those young Nisei as they were leaving the security of “protective custody” and venturing into the wilderness of the unknown, each intensely feeling his aloneness. In effect, in this service, I, a young Japanese clergyman, was sending that congregation of pilgrims into American society and Clarence Gillett, one of the elder statesmen of the American Board of Foreign Missions, was there to receive them on behalf of American society.[27]

Despite the turmoil and uncertainty, the ministers still directed their people to deny themselves and follow Christ. The church also continued to worship even after Tule Lake officially became a segregation center on November 1, 1943. Soon, Kitagawa was the only remaining ordained clergyman and remembered that period as filled with despair.[28] At times, he himself was threatened as pro-Japan gangs threw garbage in front of him and shouted, “Dogs should eat this!”[29] Kitagawa despaired, “It’s categorically impossible for me or for any other person to stay on after segregation to do church work.”[30] There remained glimpses of hope, however, such as the time he officiated a funeral service for a young nurse’s aide who had contracted tuberculosis while working in the camp hospital.

She was not a Christian, but all the Buddhist priests had by then left the center. Word somehow spread throughout the camp that a young Christian minister was conducting a funeral service for a Buddhist girl [such that] the funeral service for the lonely young woman was well-attended. Her untimely death would otherwise have been mourned by not more than a handful of people.[31]

At the funeral, Kitagawa spoke highly of this young woman:

I had a genuine appreciation of her desire to serve others, a warm affection toward her as a person, and an admiration for the courage with which she met her death. . . . In the drab Tule Lake Center, which stood as a symbol of man’s inhumanity to man, where I was daily confronted by the ugliness of human nature in all its forms, this young woman, in her death, showed me how sublime and beautiful humanity might be.[32]

He used the burial rite in the Book of Common Prayer, then read Psalm 121 which had become a cherished passage of Scripture for his own soul:

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.

He explained this psalm to the mainly non-Christian congregation “as one of the many songs which the ancient Hebrew pilgrims used to sing as they approached the city of Jerusalem, which stood upon a hill.”[33] The Buddhist crowd recognized pilgrimage as a common form of devotion and related well to his message. Kitagawa then added,

Human life is a pilgrimage, not walking alone, but together with others. And in the course of journeying together, all sorts of things happen to everybody—some pleasant, others painful. We grow together as men and women as we share all these experiences one with another. We are assembled here to pay tribute to this young woman, unknown though she was to most of us here, whose life was cut short while she was serving others. She was a pilgrim, as we all are. And yet, who can say that she did not live out her life to the fullest? I, for one, believe that she lived a rich life because, as I learned during the days preceding her death, she really cared for those whom she was serving. Much of her short life she lived for others, and when the time came, she faced her death with a quiet courage and a determination to keep going forward in the course of her pilgrimage.[34]

Kitagawa shepherded the Tule Lake Union Church through the initial harsh conditions, the breakdown of family structure, the infamous WRA questionnaire, and the transition into a segregation center. Then on October 31, 1943, he left Tule Lake in the capable hands of Rev. Shozo Hashimoto. Kitagawa and his friend, Harry Mayeda, hitched a ride to Klamath Falls, then boarded a bus for the Minidoka Relocation Center in Idaho. They planned to visit five of the relocation centers (Minidoka, Topaz, Granada, Jerome, and Rohwer), before resettling in Cincinnati. As they drove out of the camp gates, the same passage of Scripture came to Kitagawa’s lips as when he had first arrived: “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:1-2). At Minidoka, Kitagawa and Mayeda reunited with friends who had been transferred out of Tule Lake and others they had known back in Seattle. They encouraged the internees as best they could during the two or three days they spent in each camp before moving on to the next. Kitagawa wrote, “We found former Tule Lakers in the five relocation centers healthy and in good humor, though not entirely without problems of adjustment and of acceptance by the older center residents. Our visit to each center seemed to boost morale and, indirectly, to help the Tule Lakers in making their adjustment.”[35]

In 1944, Kitagawa would marry Fujiko Sugimoto, then travel to Minneapolis with his new bride to serve “as civilian chaplain to the hundreds of Nisei soldiers studying the Japanese language at the Military Intelligence Service Language School (MISLS) at Fort Snelling.”[36] Colonel Kai Rasmussen, the commandant in the camp, confided to Kitagawa, “My soldiers need your ministry. Regard this school as your parish. Come here any time of the day or night, as need arises. Be a friend and pastor to my men.”[37] In 1949, Kitagawa would be appointed the director of the Minnesota Council of Churches and continue an effective ministry of writing and speaking.

Rev. Shozo Hashimoto, who had arrived at Tule Lake with his wife and daughter, faithfully pastored the small group of Japanese-speaking Christians until October 1945 when his family returned to Japan for missions.[38] On the last Sunday before the Hashimoto’s departure, Rev. Thomas W. Grubbs, who also served at Tule Lake, wrote a farewell message:

To many of us this church has been one of life’s schoolrooms. Through deep and vivid Christian experiences we have learned the truth of the oneness of Christ’s body. The Apostle Paul expressed this so beautifully: “For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of the body, being many, are one body; so also is Christ. For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether bond or free; and were made to drink of one Spirit. . . . And whether one member suffereth, all the members suffer with it; or one members is honored, all the members rejoice with it” (1 Corinthians 12:12, 13, 26). The church in Tule Lake has taught us the oneness of Christ’s body in at least three ways: It is inter-racial; it is interdenominational; and it is international. . . . Here we have strongly felt that common bond which unites Christians of all nations and races.[39]

Rev. Hashimoto added his own farewell:

I love the two ‘J’s – Japan and Jesus. Jesus is a wonderful Saviour. Having faith in Jesus, Japan will become a beautiful country. The old Japan is passing and a new Japan is arising now. Japan needs Jesus Christ! It is the most important task to propagate Christianity in Japan. I hear the voice: “Come over and help us” [Acts 16:9]. . . . Japan is starving now. Japan needs the Gospel. Please pray for Japan.[40]

As in the other camps, Tule Lake benefitted from the ministry of outside friends who served as administrators, encouragers, teachers, and counselors. Paul G. Robertson was a follower of Christ who became the assistant director at Tule Lake after serving as director of the Leupp Isolation Center in Arizona. He was known by both Christians and Buddhists as a man who cared about the Nikkei and ministered among the internees after segregation. Many outside friends also encouraged the church at Tule Lake through their prayers, letters, and support. For instance, Mrs. Royal H. Fisher wrote,

On hearing of the growth of the Tulelake Union Church a new but very important work, I could say with Paul, “I was cheered – this faith of yours encouraged me. It is life to me now, if you stand firm in the Lord. How can I render thanks enough to God for you, for all the joy you make me feel in the presence of our God” (1 Thessalonians 3:7-9, Moffatt). . . . Your Union Church occupies a unique position, and needs all the wisdom and grace that God can give. You have the marks of true saints. You have been loyal to the faith. You have been heroic when tests came. You have shown the power to do what in 1942 would have seemed impossible. I trust all of you have been radiant amid the stress and strain of the past three years, the love of God shining in your faces though you live such restricted lives. . . . May the God of peace keep you all in the faith.[41]

Despite countless obstacles, the church at Tule Lake held firmly to the divine inspiration of Scripture (2 Timothy 3:16; 2 Peter 1:20-21)[42] as demonstrated by a survey of printed sermons and devotionals in the church’s weekly publications. Dr. Howard D. Hannaford, a former missionary to Japan who served at Tule Lake for a time, urged the church to weather the relocation:

Life in Tule Lake Center is often humdrum and monotonous. There are not many sources of spiritual inspiration in the usual routine of barrack and mess hall. But God gives uplift of spirit and strength through Christ even under such circumstances. Even the humblest task can be glorified through His blessing. . . . Isaiah proclaimed the promise, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31). He then spoke of those who fly and those who run in the strength, but, in a manner more encouraging to us, he continued, “They shall walk and not faint.” God’s power is sufficient to help us even on the days when our spirits do not soar and we must walk in the path of daily routine.[43]

Dr. Galen M. Fisher, former missionary to Japan, exhorted the church to be ambitious like Jesus “to emulate his Father as a Master Workman” and like the early church, “to pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts. . . . Strive to excel in building up the church” (1 Corinthians 14:1, 12).[44] Dr. Charles L. Seasholes, pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dayton, Ohio, also cheered the interned church:

We cannot always determine the things that happen to us. But we can determine what these things do to us. . . . Paul wrote from his Roman prison to the people in Philippi: “But I would that ye should understand, brethren, that the things which have happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the Gospel” [Philippians 1:12]. . . . Paul was referring immediately to the things that led to his imprisonment, but he lists, in one of the other Epistles, other things that had happened to him in his life. He had been beaten, left for dead, shipwrecked, and in peril on land and sea [2 Corinthians 11:23-28]. His imprisonment turned out for the progress of the Gospel because a soldier from Caesar’s household guard was fastened to him each day, and Paul preached to that soldier. But Paul’s imprisonment did not turn out for the progress of the Gospel automatically. It was not what happened but what he did about what happened that made the progress. Had Paul been resentful, disheartened, and bitter at the thwarting of his journeys for the Gospel, he would have missed the opportunity presented in his imprisonment. . . . Paul’s response to what happened to him [began with his attitude:] “We are troubled on every side, but not destroyed; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed” [2 Corinthians 4:8-9]. . . . A second realization of Paul was that nothing shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord [Romans 8:38-39]. . . . Paul’s great conviction that helped him to respond in the right way to what happened to him is found in [Romans 8:28,] . . . “We know that in everything God works with those who love Him, to bring about what is good.”[45]

Dr. William Axling, former missionary to Japan, reminded the church how Paul and Silas in Acts 16 cared more for their jailer in the city of Philippi than for their own well-being:

Prayer changes everything [including] one’s attitude toward the hard knocks of life. . . . It enables one to take them with a song. . . . and enables us to look at every experience of life out of God’s window and with our hand in His. . . . [God] can take these souls of ours and set them singing a song of quiet confidence and joyous triumph even in the isolated, lonely, confined life of a concentration camp. . . . He takes even the tragedies of human life and if given a chance turns them into ultimate triumphs. He takes the crisis of human history and turns them to creative ends in carrying out His timeless purpose. No man-made tragedy, no man-made crisis can stop Him or thwart His purpose. . . . A prayer in the heart puts a song in the soul.[46]

Captain Carl A. F. Wahlquist, Post Chaplain at Tule Lake, reminded the church that since God was their Father (Acts 17:28) they were to be holy as God is holy (Romans 12:1), forsake all idolatry (Ephesians 5:11), and celebrate their brotherhood with fellow men (Acts 17:26).[47] Rev. R. E. McNaughton also proclaimed the gospel message that

The greatest experience which anyone can have is knowing the Lord Jesus Christ as his own personal Savior. . . . However, this New Birth experience is not the end but only the beginning of the marvellous plan of redemption. . . . Let us on every possible occasion give honor to our Lord who has redeemed us by His Precious Blood, not fearing to confess His Name.[48]

Fellow Christians repeatedly exhorted the Tule Lake Union Church from Scripture such that they maintained an attitude of praise throughout their tumultuous experience. For example, Dr. Hannaford envisioned the end of 1944 as a bend in the road:

A winding road is always interesting, for adventure always seems to be just ahead out of sight. In the same way, not we stand on the edge of 1945, looking at the New Year as it winds on, disappearing in the dimness of the future. What kind of events shall we see, what sort of experience shall we have, during the next twelve months? . . . We enter into 1945 in fellowship with God. “Thou wilt show me the path of life,” says the Psalmist [Psalm 16:11]. We may have a blind date with destiny, but, with God showing us the way and leading us along it, we need have no fear. . . . God shows us the path of life. With assurance of His presence, living becomes an adventure, vital and interesting. . . . Let us go gladly with Him to see what is beyond the bend in the road.[49]

Accordingly, on the first Thanksgiving after America’s victory in World War II, the church professed Habakkuk 3:17-18, “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”[50] They also included a favorite hymn during that Sunday’s worship service, In the Cross of Christ I Glory.[51]

These testimonies to the faithfulness of God revealed the church’s steadfast commitment to God’s inspired Word. As Hiroshi Tani wrote, “‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge and of wisdom’ (Proverbs 1:7; 9:10). . . . This mysterious wisdom was not clearly manifested to man until two thousand years ago . . . by the appearance of Jesus Christ when he was crucified to the cross.”[52] Then on the church’s final Easter at Tule Lake, they worshipped as they had always done:

On Easter morning at 6:30, with a covering of snow mingled with our deep dust, over one hundred of us gathered in an open space at the very end of the Japanese colony. . . . But not even the cold could take away from us the real significance and beauty of the hour. . . . We had our worship service – a talk in Japanese by Mr. Hashimoto, . . . followed by a talk in English by Mr. Grubbs. . . . We sang the Easter hymns both in Japanese and in English.[53]


[1] Ai Miyasaki, cited in Sarasohn, Issei, 221-23. Although designed to house 12,000 people, Tule Lake eventually reached a peak population of over 18,000. Each of the eight wards (or districts) contained seventy-four residential blocks and each block contained fourteen barracks.

[2] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 74.

[3] The Church Awakens: African Americans and the Struggle for Justice, “The Reverend Daisuke Kitagawa, 1910-1970,” accessed at https://www.episcopalarchives.org/church-awakens/exhibits/show/leadership/clergy/kitagawa.

[4] James Sakoda, The Christian Church in Tule Lake (1 October 1942), 2. See also James Sakoda, personal interview with Andrew Kuroda, “History of the Tule Lake Union Church: As Told to James Sakoda by Rev. Kuroda” (30 September 1942), 1.

[5] Blankenship, Social Justice, 105. Kuroda promoted an ecumenical worship service based on the common core elements in Protestant hymnals and liturgies (Andrew Kuroda, Memorandum [Fall 1942], Box 155/Fld 3, Kuroda Papers, JARP). Some Christians were predisposed to worship separately based on denominational preference or city of origin, but Kuroda argued strongly to establish a union church. “After some heated discussion the group voted to have a community church rather than denominational churches. The group decided to have a steward in each ward, who would be in charge of nine blocks. The blocks in turn were to elect a block steward” (Sakoda, “History,” 1-4). After segregation, the Seventh Day Adventists would conduct their own worship services until the close of the center (Suzuki, Ministry, 149-50).

[6] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 76. When the center opened, the physical facilities for church services consisted merely of empty recreation halls (Sakoda, “History,” 1-4).

[7] Tulean Dispatch (27 June 1942). See James Sakoda, The Christian Church in Tule Lake (1 October 1942), 13.

[8] Sakoda, “History,” 5. On September 10, 1942, the population reached its peak and began to decline from that point on as internees began to resettle for work and school (Sakoda, Christian Church in Tule Lake, 9).

[9] Suzuki, Ministry, 140.

[10] Lester E. Suzuki, “The Churches and Relocation Center Experience,” in Koga, A Centennial Legacy, 42.

[11] Sakoda, Christian Church in Tule Lake, 15-16.

[12] Kuroda, Letter to Those on the Outside (Summer 1942), Box 155/Fld 3, Kuroda Papers, JARP.

[13] Andrew Kuroda, Young People’s Bulletin (22 March 1942), Box 15/Fld 27, CCGS.

[14] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 88, see 86-87, 90-91. Kitagawa was quoting from the words of Jesus: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4).

[15] Ibid., 102. He was alluding to the transforming power of the gospel depicted in Romans 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

[16] Masahiro Omi, “The Cross,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly (7 April 1944), 1-2.

[17] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 111-113. The WRA Committee on Religion recommended a self-governing interfaith council in each camp to cooperate with a Community Activities Committee which oversaw recreation. Catholics, Protestants, and Buddhists worked together for the sake of their common good.

[18] The Newell Star (1 June 1944), 1.

[19] Kibei literally meant, “returning to America.” Like the Nisei, they had been born in America, but were sent back to Japan for their primary and secondary education, before returning to America. Many suffered from the lack of proper parental supervision during their formative years and were indoctrinated by the Japanese imperialistic militarism (Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 97-98).

[20] For a further discussion regarding this conflict over the WRA questionnaire, see Weglyn, Years of Infamy, 156-73 and Eric L. Muller, American Inquisition: The Hunt for Japanese American Disloyalty in World War II (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 2007).

[21] Most of the Nikkei soldiers were sent to fight on the European front, but a select group, the Military Intelligence Service Language School (MISLS), aided the U.S. war effort against Japan. Their work was kept top secret for more than thirty years after the war, but Major General Charles A. Willoughby, G-2 intelligence chief under General Douglas MacArthur, asserted, “The six thousand niseis saved a million lives, and shortened the Pacific War by two years” (Kiyoshi Yano, “Participating in the Mainstream of American Life Amidst Drawback of Racial Prejudice and Discrimination,” in John Aiso and the M.I.S.: Japanese-American Soldiers in the Military Intelligence Service, World War II, ed. Tad Ichinokuchi and Daniel Aiso [Los Angeles: The Military Intelligence Service Club of Southern California, 1988], 19).

[22] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 117. An alien (Issei) who answered, “No,” to Question 28 would renounce their Japanese citizenship and become a stateless person. The Nisei were offended that the question even needed to be asked because it assumed they had divided loyalties. Many also protested that the United States was questioning their loyalty at the same time it was asking them to volunteer for the military. As one internee at Manzanar declared, “Well if you want to know, I said, ‘no’ and I’m going to stick to ‘no.’ If they want to segregate me they can do it. If they want to take my citizenship away, they can do it. If this country doesn’t want me they can throw me out. What do they know about loyalty?” (Manzanar Community Analysis Report, 1943).

[23] Of the 77,842 internees “eligible to register,” 65,312 answered “Yes” to question 28, 3,254 refused to register, 2,083 gave a qualified answer, 6,733 answered “No,” 426 did not answer, and 34 were “unknown” (The Evacuated People: A Quantitative Description, United States Department of the Interior, n.d. [1946], 164, Table 73). The “No-No boys” were branded as disloyal, rounded up, and segregated at Tule Lake. Senator Daniel Inouye, who fought for the U.S. during World War II, took a more balanced approach: “Some looked upon them as cowards; they’re not cowards. It took a lot of strength and a lot of courage to do what they did. To go through prison sentences, now that’s not easy. Physical courage is easy; it’s moral and spiritual courage that’s difficult. We did what we thought was right with courage and they did what they thought was right with courage, and that’s the American way” (Junichi Suzuki, 442: Live with Honor, Die with Dignity DVD [United Television Broadcasting System, Inc., 2010]).

[24] Weglyn, Years of Infamy, 229.

[25] Ibid. More than 5,500 internees would eventually renounce their citizenship, although many filed for reinstatement after the war.

[26] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 140. Rev. Kitagawa voluntarily remained at Tule Lake to minister among the disgruntled segregationists and those such as their children who had no choice but to stay.

[27] Ibid., 141. Gillett would later serve on the Congregational Church’s Committee for War Victims and Services.

[28] Kitagawa’s friend, Andrew Kuroda, had been beaten in his own barracks by pro-Japan internees and the WRA had transferred Kuroda out of Tule Lake soon after (Klancy Clark De Nevers, The Colonel and the Pacifist: Karl Bendetsen, Perry Saito, and the Incarceration of Japanese Americans During World War II [Salt Lake City, UT: University of Utah Press, 2004], 203). Just two days earlier, Kuroda had written to his friend and mentor, Dr. John Bennett, that he and others were safe: “Shigeo Tanabe is also quite unpopular, because he has written a series of articles on resettlement in the Christian News Letter. Daisuke Kitagawa is also very unpopular, because he is an ‘official’ translator of the Administration, and regarded as a tool of the Administration. However, we do not think bodily harm would be inflicted upon us. No threat has been received by all of us” (Letter from Andrew Y. Kuroda to John C. Bennett [19 February 1943], 4). Rev. Isamu Nakamura was also on the list of those to be beaten, but the people in his block gave him enough protection to keep from being attacked. He recalled, “The Christian ministers in the camp were considered inu (dog-spy) for the government. Reverend Iwasaki, formerly of San Francisco, was treated quite unfairly by those extremists who hung a bone over his table in the mess hall saying it was the only suitable food for an inu and he was not good enough to share the same table with the rest of the people” (Laing, et. al., Issei Christians, 175).

[29] Ai Miyasaki, cited in Sarasohn, Issei, 209.

[30] Letter from Kitagawa to Gillett (9 September 1943), Box 1/Fld 10, Gillett Papers, UCLA. Kokichi Sasaki recalled his own struggles: “Serving as a representative of the Christian Churches in the Tule Lake Relocation Center, I stood my ground firmly in the midst of many disturbances. A group of people who did not like my attitude, placed, during the night, a sign board at our living quarters which read, ‘Royal Member of the United States.’ This was done to provoke people. Such signs were usually taken down quickly. But I said, ‘Don’t touch it. Leave it alone.’ . . . After the war when I met a former member of the gang, he said to me, ‘I was wrong.’ I told him, ‘Well, it happened during the war,’ and we laughed together. I decided to never accuse anyone who felt sorry for his mistake. For God forgave even our sins” (Kokichi Sasaki, “A Christian Forgives,” cited in Taro Goto, ed. and trans., Our Christian Testimony [Loomis, CA: First Methodist Church, 1967], 19).

[31] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 145.

[32] Ibid., 146.

[33] Ibid.

[34] Ibid., 147.

[35] Ibid., 154.

[36] Seigel, In Good Conscience, 220. Kitagawa’s ministry was supported by the National Council of the Episcopal Church at the recommendation of the Rev. Dr. George Wieland. Kitagawa was first assigned to serve at Camp Savage which was later moved to Fort Snelling in August 1944.

[37] Kitagawa, Issei and Nisei, 165.

[38] “By the end of September 1943, almost the entire Protestant congregation of Tule Lake had been relocated to other camps. . . . Tule Lake’s strong Protestant church almost collapsed when most members and pastors left. . . . [B]etween 100 and 150 Christians remained or had arrived at the camp once transfers were complete. . . . Only about a third of the camp’s Christians attended services due to the severe stigma now attached to their religion. Young people met at the high school to hide their interest in Christianity from their families and other Tuleans. . . . Many Christians felt intimidated and isolated from fellow incarcerees” (Blankenship, Social Justice, 144). The church would eventually grow, but the period following segregation was very difficult. Shigeko Fukuye remembers being called a dog (inu) by those who considered her a traitor. They called out “Bow-Wow . . . when [she] passed by their door.” Although the only Christian on her block, God and her Bible study gave her the “strength to . . . withstand all kinds of difficult situations” (Shigeko Fukuye, interview conducted by Rosalie Wax [December 1981], Box 5/Fld 13, Rosalie H. Wax Papers, BANC MSS 83/115c, UCB).

[39] Thomas W. Grubbs, “The Tie That Binds,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.49 (9 December 1945), 2. Grubbs was a Presbyterian minister who served his ministry at Tule Lake during World War II as well as in Japan from 1948 to 1963.

[40] Shozo Hashimoto, “I Love Japan,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.49 (9 December 1945), 2.

[41] Mrs Royal H. Fisher, “Called to Be Saints,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.30 (5 November 1944).

[42] R. E. McNaughton, “Our Bible,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.16 (30 July 1944), 1-2.

[43] Howard D. Hannaford, “In Between Seasons,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly (21 May 1944), 2. In another sermon, he told them, “Like the river our course may be changed, but life still goes on and we perform our services through different channels [Proverbs 21:1]” (Howard D. Hannaford, Christian News Letter [3 January 1943]).

[44] Galen M. Fisher, “Is It Good To Be Ambitious?,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.8 (4 June 1944), 2.

[45] Charles Lyon Seasholes, “The Things That Happen To Us,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.12 (2 July 1944), 1. Dr. Seasholes added a personal note: “I rejoice with my Christian brethren in Tulelake Union Church that what has happened to you has turned out to the furtherance of the Gospel, as you have not just reacted but responded. May your fellowship in Christ grow in strength, and may my old friend and roommate, Reverend Shozo Hashimoto, continue to be blessed in his ministry to you in these troublous days” (ibid., 2).

[46] William Axling, “A Prayer in the Heart: A Song in the Soul,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.34 (7 January 1944), 1-3. Dr. Axling himself had been placed in a Japanese concentration camp on September 16, 1942 and had only been allowed to write a single 100-word letter once a month to his wife in the Women’s Concentration Camp fifty miles away. “Every day, however, was a red letter day with God. The contact between God and my heart could not be broken.” Intercessory prayer also allowed him to take his stand beside Christian colleagues all over the world.

[47] Carl A. F. Wahlquist, “Good Will, A Common Fatherhood,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.26 (7 October 1944), 1-2.

[48] R. E. McNaughton, “King of Kings,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.31 (12 November 1944), 1-2.

[49] Howard D. Hannaford, “The Bend in the Road (Psalm 16:11),” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 1.38 (31 December 1944), 2.

[50] “Thanksgiving Service,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly (22 November 1945).

[51] Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.47 (25 November 1945).

[52] Hiroshi Tani, “The Wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:24),” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.16 (22 April 1945), 1-2.

[53] Thomasino Allen, “Easter Day,” Tule Lake Union Church Christian Weekly 2.15 (15 April 1945), 1.