At the end of the Arkansas River in SE Colorado is where the Japanese interment camp was located. Overgrown with weeds the markers rise out of the growth. Foundations and footers dot the land, that today is almost empty. There have been numerous conversations about fixing the place up and recreating parts of the camp. Yet that has been mostly it, conversation. With the governments poor condition, money for projects like this is hard to come by and it takes lots of effort that few are willing to put forth. So the prairie winds rustle over the land.
Here is a link that will take you to a web site with numerous pictures of the area showing its size.
Fear causes people to do many unusual things and sometimes there are regrets.
The day I walked the camp it was empty. Few grasshoppers and the rustling breeze. There were a few markers in the cemetery. Most had been exhumed and moved to a family grave site after the war.
For years, families lived out their lives in a military stockade. There was bitterness and anger, among the residents and the neighbors. Many of the local people did not want the camp to be in their back yard and there was the occasional conflict.
Some of the locals had relatives that had been at Pearl Harbor and they carried lots of bitter anger. There were some Japanese that had sympathies with the homeland and there were others that were some of the most Patriotic of Americans.
Some of the Japanese descendants joined the military and fought during WWI in the European theatre. Most lived out their time in the camp and tried to go back to their homes after the war.
Out on the empty grass land of the prairie are conflicted memories, Love, anger, melancholy and a moment in time that stands.
A ghost town in short duration.
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