Crucifixion and Resurrection in Utah’s West Desert

By Michael Patrick O’Brien–

Life is a repeating pattern of crucifixion and resurrection. A recent visit to Topaz, the ruins of Utah’s historic World War II internment camp for Japanese Americans, reminded me of this truth.

My wife and I were in Utah’s west desert with a friend and her husband. Our friend was looking for the greasewood (not sage brush) covered spot where her father, then in his early twenties, had lived 75 years ago. Her father, Tom, and his family were forced to leave San Francisco in October of 1942 and to relocate to the hastily constructed camp in the barren desert near the town of Delta.

Tom, and over 100,000 other American citizens of Japanese descent, endured immense pain when stripped of their belongings and evicted from their homes simply because of their ancestry. Crucifixion. However, a local farmer befriended and employed Tom. After falling in love with Utah’s four distinct seasons, when the war ended Tom moved to Salt Lake City. There, he met and then married my friend’s mother (herself a former internee in the Idaho camp called Minidoka). Topaz facilitated my friend’s existence. Resurrection.

The 11,000 internees at Topaz faced harsh conditions while living in flimsy wooden barracks in what seemed to be a wasteland. The winter cold was numbing and the summer dust storms suffocating. Crucifixion. Nevertheless, the internees collected seashells left behind by Utah’s ancient Lake Bonneville and turned them into exquisite jewelry. They also carried large stones from the foothills of the nearby Thomas mountain range and sculpted beautiful rock gardens, turning chaotic desolation into ordered beauty. Resurrection.

The government emptied the camp in 1945 and sold all the buildings, fixtures, and plumbing, perhaps hoping that the lonely desert winds and the silence of steadily passing time would erode away the cruel acts of internment. Crucifixion. Yet, the Japanese-American community, led by a Delta high school English teacher, have preserved the ruined memories of the camp. They also built a simple but profound Topaz museum on the main street of town, lending their voices to the clarion call that there should never again be places like Topaz. Resurrection.

After over fifty orbits around the sun, I do not yet understand the affliction of suffering. I know only that the antidotes are patience, resilience, and hope. Resurrection follows crucifixion.