Chap­ter 19 intro­duces the ear­ly life of Nor­man Mine­ta, who, in 1942, was a ten-year-old boy with a pas­sion for base­ball and Boy Scouts. Grow­ing up in a devout Methodist fam­i­ly, he was deeply influ­enced by his father, Kunisaku “Kay” Mine­ta, an immi­grant from Japan. Kay arrived in the U.S. at the age of four­teen, orig­i­nal­ly intend­ing to reach San Fran­cis­co but end­ed up in Seat­tle. After strug­gling with the Eng­lish lan­guage and work­ing his way south, Kay enrolled in first grade at six­teen, mark­ing the begin­ning of his jour­ney in Amer­i­ca. By twen­ty-four, he had mar­ried Kane, a “pic­ture bride” who trav­eled across the Pacif­ic to meet him. This con­nec­tion laid the foun­da­tion for Norman’s upbring­ing, shaped by his father’s deter­mi­na­tion and the chal­lenges of adjust­ing to a new life in Amer­i­ca.

As World War II unfold­ed, Japan­ese Amer­i­cans like the Mine­tas faced the harsh real­i­ty of intern­ment camps fol­low­ing the attack on Pearl Har­bor. Despite the loom­ing threat, Kay reas­sured his chil­dren of their cit­i­zen­ship, urg­ing them to remain strong. How­ev­er, Exec­u­tive Order 9066 soon led to the forced relo­ca­tion of Japan­ese Amer­i­cans, start­ing with bru­tal evic­tion notices and search­es for con­tra­band. Fam­i­lies were coerced into sell­ing their belong­ings at a frac­tion of their val­ue, with lit­tle abil­i­ty to resist the over­whelm­ing dis­crim­i­na­tion they faced. The Mine­tas, along with oth­er Japan­ese Amer­i­cans, were forcibly relo­cat­ed, mark­ing the begin­ning of their dif­fi­cult jour­ney into intern­ment. This chap­ter reflects the dev­as­tat­ing effects of wartime para­noia on fam­i­lies who were uproot­ed from their homes and com­mu­ni­ties sim­ply because of their her­itage.

The Mine­tas were ini­tial­ly sent to the San­ta Ani­ta race­track, which had been con­vert­ed into a makeshift intern­ment camp. Life in the camp was harsh and dehu­man­iz­ing, and Norm was forced to leave behind his beloved dog, Skip­py, a painful mem­o­ry that stayed with him. The fam­i­ly was assigned cramped quar­ters that offered only straw mat­tress­es, and they were placed under con­stant sur­veil­lance by guards. This envi­ron­ment felt more like impris­on­ment than an evac­u­a­tion, and the lack of pri­va­cy and dig­ni­ty took a toll on the fam­i­lies. The con­di­tions were over­crowd­ed and uncom­fort­able, with fam­i­lies endur­ing long lines for food and lit­tle sense of sta­bil­i­ty. Despite this, the Mine­tas man­aged to main­tain their resilience, even though the stark con­trast between their lives before and after the intern­ment was a pro­found shock.

Even­tu­al­ly, the Mine­tas were trans­ferred to the Heart Moun­tain intern­ment camp, a larg­er facil­i­ty hous­ing over four­teen thou­sand peo­ple. The camp was sur­round­ed by barbed wire, and the con­stant pres­ence of armed guards cre­at­ed a feel­ing of con­fine­ment and help­less­ness. Life at Heart Moun­tain was somber, and the oppres­sive con­di­tions weighed heav­i­ly on the res­i­dents. How­ev­er, amidst the bleak­ness, the moth­ers found ways to bond and share expe­ri­ences, offer­ing a sense of com­mu­ni­ty in the face of hard­ship. Despite the hard­ships, these inter­ac­tions helped indi­vid­u­als main­tain a sense of human­i­ty and sol­i­dar­i­ty, even in such try­ing cir­cum­stances. For the chil­dren, the lack of prop­er recre­ation­al activ­i­ties was a chal­lenge, but there were still moments of con­nec­tion that helped alle­vi­ate the emo­tion­al strain.

In an attempt to pro­vide some form of nor­mal­cy, Scout­mas­ter Glenn Liv­ingston ini­ti­at­ed inter­ac­tions between local Boy Scouts and the interned chil­dren. How­ev­er, ini­tial hos­til­i­ty from white fam­i­lies com­pli­cat­ed these inter­ac­tions, reflect­ing the deep-seat­ed prej­u­dice of the time. Over time, though, the ten­sions eased, and a Boy Scout jam­boree was orga­nized with­in Heart Moun­tain. This event allowed the boys to form friend­ships despite the racial divides, bond­ing over shared activ­i­ties and over­com­ing the ini­tial mis­trust. It was a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of youth to rise above soci­etal bar­ri­ers, find­ing com­mon ground in the sim­plest of activ­i­ties. This chap­ter under­scores how, even in the face of tremen­dous adver­si­ty, con­nec­tions and friend­ships can be formed that tran­scend the bound­aries of prej­u­dice and hatred.

Despite the hard­ships of the intern­ment, the Mine­tas were for­tu­nate in some ways. After the war end­ed, they were able to return to Cal­i­for­nia, unlike many oth­er Japan­ese fam­i­lies whose lives had been per­ma­nent­ly shat­tered by their time in the camps. The expe­ri­ences of Nor­man Mine­ta and his fam­i­ly reflect the resilience of the human spir­it in the face of sys­temic injus­tice and the deep scars left by wartime para­noia. This nar­ra­tive serves as a pow­er­ful reminder of the impact that dis­crim­i­na­tion can have on indi­vid­u­als and fam­i­lies, yet it also high­lights the strength and per­se­ver­ance that allowed many to rebuild their lives. Nor­man’s sto­ry, both per­son­al and his­tor­i­cal, stands as a tes­ta­ment to the endurance of fam­i­lies who, despite fac­ing unimag­in­able chal­lenges, con­tin­ued to fight for a bet­ter future.