<Begin Segment 9>

LT: So let's go back to August of 1942 when you first arrived at Minidoka. I'm wondering if you could take a photo image of it, what did it look like, what did it feel like, what did it sound like?

DS: My first impression of Minidoka was, "Oh my god, are we going to live here?" It was dust. I mean, dust was blowing all the time. There was sagebrush all around, it was very desolate, very discouraging to be there. You got out of the bus and it just, the dust was all over, just blowing. And I thought to myself, "My goodness, are we gonna have to live here?" And then we were issued our apartments, and they were, I mean, everything was just bare. I mean, it was just, it was the same situation like in Puyallup, just a room where you were issued cots and mattresses. But what was the worst was that dust, I mean, it was just all over. It just blew all the time. And, of course, everything was the mess hall, the shower rooms, everything was communal, I mean, everything. And we thought, oh, my mother was so, she was so discouraged, she actually got sick. I mean, not sick-sick, she was just, I think it just overcame her. And we had to take her to the hospital. She went to the hospital in the back of a truck, that was an insult. Big truck, she sat in the back of the truck. She was not physically ill, it was just emotionally, she just went to pieces. But she was okay several days after that, and never had a relapse of how she felt after that. She just accepted it. But I think we were all, I think we all felt that way, that it was just so desolate. It was just like us coming from the Pacific Northwest to go to Minidoka, it was just like a desert with sagebrush all around. My first impression was dust. I mean, it was just dust all over, and it blew all the time. Of course, later on, the winters were cold. I don't know whether we burned coal in our stoves or what we burned, but, oh, my first impression was terrible. And I don't think it ever changed, but you learned to accept what you have to go through every day, and that's what we did, accepted where we were stuck. But we were all like that, every one of us accepted what we were gonna go through.

LT: You mentioned that the family unit dissipated because you didn't eat together. You ate in a communal hall. The restrooms were also communal.

DS: Yes, yes, it was terrible. The restrooms, they were outdoor toilets, and the shower room was just open. You know what I mean, everybody took a shower there. I mean, no privacy. That was, to me, that was very hard to accept, I mean, the invasion. But that's what it was. And we weren't about to change it because we didn't like it, we had to accept what was given to us.

LT: So how did people respond to showering and going to the bathroom together? How did they deal with it?

DS: It was just something, I think you just had to, I mean, just something you had to do. I mean, what would you have done otherwise? You had to take a shower, you had to take a shower. You had to go to the bathroom, you had to go to the bathroom, it's outdoor. And like I say, growing up in the city, I had never been exposed to that. So I think for all the city people it was hard to accept. But that's what it was, and you had to learn to live with it. I think that's what we all did, we just learned to live with it.

LT: Can you talk about your daily routine?

DS: I got a job at the leave section where if you wanted to leave the camp, you had to go through us. And I think I got twelve dollars a month, and my bosses who were college educated got sixteen dollars a month, I think. I'm not real sure. I'm not real sure of the amount, but that's where I worked, so I'd get up, and I think I walked to work every day. I think there was a bus, but I walked to work, and that's where we stayed. We had lunch, and we worked probably 'til about five, then we came home and had dinner and whatever. They had a lot of things going for the young people there, dances once a week in the mess halls. And I know they had this guy from Seattle, Koichi Hayashi, he had a little band that still played. And then like my sisters had to go to school during the day. And then they had like Scouts, Boy Scouts, Girls Scouts, they had flower, they had little activities for age groups. And I don't think I ever went to flower arranging class or anything. And then you spent time just, like I say, horsing around with your friends, talking to friends. And the time goes fast. That's about what, actually going to work. Everybody I think had a job, some kind of a job, and that's what life was in camp.

LT: So you were processing leaves when people applied to go to school or to work. Can you talk about your job and the processes that people went through?

DS: You know, I don't remember too much about it, Linda, but I do remember that you had to have a place to go before you got out of camp. If you were going to school, you had to have a letter of acceptance from the school, or if you were going to join somebody you had to have a letter saying that you were being... and then I think they paid our way. In fact, I'm pretty sure they paid our passage. And I know when I left camp, I went with a friend of mine who was going to Madison, Wisconsin, and she was living with a preacher, minister, and I was going to Chicago to be with my friends. My mother was working in the mess hall in camp, so she packed a lunch for us, rice balls and chicken and all that, and we were in with the soldiers. And I think there were two other guys who were going to Chicago same time. But it was a long train ride, but it was good to get out of camp.

<End Segment 9> - Copyright © 2013 Oregon Nikkei Endowment and Densho. All Rights Reserved.