Jeff Burton

Jeff Burton is Cultural Resource Program Manager at Manzanar National Historic Site in California. Each year he leads volunteer projects uncovering Manzanar’s history, including restoring gardens built by imprisoned Japanese Americans during WWII. His archeological overview of Japanese American internment sites was cited in the national law that created the $38 million Japanese American Confinement Sites grant program. His work has also been pivotal in the establishment of National Park Service units at three other internment sites: Minidoka (Idaho), Tule Lake (California), and Honouliuli (Hawaii). In 2017 he received an award for excellence from the Society for American Archaeology for his work at confinement sites.

Updated June 2021

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The Power of Place: James Hatsuaki Wakasa and the Persistence of Memory

Part 5: Epilogue—The Persistence of Memory

Por Jeff Burton, Mary M. Farrell
11 Jul 2021

The monument stone, toppled, perhaps face-down in the dirt, is a witness to the honor fellow incarcerees tried to show Mr. Wakasa. It is also a witness to the administration’s effort to eradicate that honor and suppress the truth of the killing. For the stone to tell its story, it needs to be carefully examined by gently lifting it by its side to keep any cracks from spreading, to see if there are traces of writing or other markings on the side facing down. In addition, the top few inches of soil in the area surrounding the stone could be archaeologically excavated or probed to determi…

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The Power of Place: James Hatsuaki Wakasa and the Persistence of Memory

Part 4: Memories on the Landscape in 2020

Por Jeff Burton, Mary M. Farrell
4 Jul 2021

In the fall of 2020, wildfires were raging across California, and smoke in our hometown of Lone Pine, near Manzanar, made it hard to breathe. With new information in hand, we planned a short escape, our first journey after nine months of surgeries and chemotherapy. We drove through Nevada across beautiful, stark landscapes to see if we could perhaps find a few bits of concrete, a memory left at the Topaz incarceration camp. We had returned several times to Topaz before and had seen and photographed the Wakasa memorial tree documented by Ellis. On this visit, we paid our respects to the kno…

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The Power of Place: James Hatsuaki Wakasa and the Persistence of Memory

Part 3: Reclaiming History

Por Jeff Burton, Mary M. Farrell
27 Jun 2021

1943–1946: While Walking his Dog How is such a tragic event noted when it occurs? What memories are taken away? By the time Topaz closed in October 1945, Wakasa’s shooting had been documented in various ways beyond the government memos and press releases. Memories of the children appear to be benign. Lillian Yamauchi and her third-grade classes kept a diary at Topaz. The entry for April 14, 1943, states: “On Sunday evening at 7:30 o’clock, an old man, Mr. James H. Wakasa passed away.” An April 20, 1943, entry simply notes: “yesterday was Mr. Wakasa…

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The Power of Place: James Hatsuaki Wakasa and the Persistence of Memory

Part 2: Shot and Killed in 1943

Por Jeff Burton, Mary M. Farrell
20 Jun 2021

The evening of April 11, 1943, James Hatsuaki Wakasa had dinner with a friend but left the mess hall early to walk his dog.1 During his walk he talked to a nine-year-old boy (Ukai, personal communication to Jeff Burton, 2020). There are several accounts of what happened next, Mr. Wakasa had been incarcerated at Topaz for 6 months and 10 days when he was shot and killed by the military police sentry posted in Guard Tower #8. The Wakasa Killing Guards had been regularly firing warning shots at Topaz residents when tragedy struck. On April 11, 1943, a military policeman shot and killed 63-ye…

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The Power of Place: James Hatsuaki Wakasa and the Persistence of Memory

Part 1: A Story Meant to be Found

Por Jeff Burton, Mary M. Farrell
13 Jun 2021

Prologue: The Power of Place As archaeologists, we have experienced the power of place in all sorts of sites. But after almost 30 years investigating sites associated with the World War II mass incarceration of Japanese Americans, we have found these confinement sites among the most powerful, the most expressive. Bulky, immovable concrete foundations from guard towers and remnants of barbed wire speak of imprisonment. Communal latrines and mess halls tell of the lack of privacy and loss of family structure in confinement camps. Bakelite brooches speak of flag-waving American patriotism,…