A Teen in Topaz

by Steve Fujioka

Our family was transferred out of Tule Lake sometime in September of 1943 on another railroad journey to the Central Utah Relocation Center, or “Topaz” as it was called. Upon arriving there, we were assigned to two rooms this time, so my brother and I occupied the smaller room while my sisters and parents moved into the adjacent room. There was a little more space now, but we still didn’t have much in the way of furniture. Our address now was Block 37, Barrack no. 6, Units A and B.

A crowded mess hall with wooden tables and benches. Japanese Americans--men, women, children, eat their meals. A mother with two sons sits at a table. Another table is occupied by a group of men.
A typical camp mess hall scene (taken in Manzanar by Dorothea Lange for the WRA. National Archives).

As far as the physical facilities were concerned, the mess hall and the food served were essentially similar to Tule Lake, except there was no rigid rule where each family had their own table. People sat wherever they wanted to, and this probably had a severe effect in keeping family unity. Some families took their food back to their apartment in order to dine together; however, this was very inconvenient when you think about the lack of a sink in each apartment. Each time you wanted to wash your utensils, you would have to take it to the laundry room to clean it and any accumulated leftovers would have to be taken out to the mess hall garbage collecting area.

A Japanese American teenaged high school graduate in cap and gown.
Steve Fujioka, Topaz High School graduation photo. Courtesy of the Fujioka family.

My senior year at Topaz High School was very similar to the year at Tule Lake in that about the only thing that held my interest was arts and crafts courses, and in the final half year, I enrolled in auto shop. I was not one of those too concerned about what to do in the future. Life in camp was taken one day at a time. The daily routine was repeated over and over. I was not a standout student, nor was I one of the rowdy ones that gave the teachers a hard time. One class which I thought I did quite well in was bookkeeping. I believe I got all A’s in my worksheets and exams and in the course, so perhaps it was a career which I should have pursued; but it seemed like as a student in camp it really didn’t make a difference to me whether I got good grades or was just average.

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