Guided by Namo Amida Butsu — A Pilgrimage to Jerome and Rohwer

Editor’s note: The following article by Rev. Kazuaki Nakata, the interim Rimban at the Fresno Betsuin Buddhist Temple, is an edited version that first appeared in the Fresno Betsuin’s monthly Geppo newsletter. The Wheel of Dharma is reprinting it with his permission.

---

Hosted by the Fresno Betsuin, I conducted a three-day, two-night pilgrimage on Sept. 17 to two Japanese American incarceration camps. 

Since arriving in the United States in 2003, I have visited all 10 of the major former incarceration sites across the mainland United States and have often shared what these places look like today and what remnants still remain.

This time, we traveled to the former Jerome and Rohwer camp sites in the state of Arkansas. The Rohwer site is listed as a historic landmark and maintained by the federal government, while the Jerome site is on privately owned farmland. After contacting the owner in advance, we received permission to visit the remaining structures at Jerome; the owner graciously said he would personally guide us on the day of our visit.

Thanks to an announcement in the Wheel of Dharma, participants joined not only from Fresno, but also from Seattle, Los Angeles, Orange County, Sacramento, Oakland, Berkeley, San Mateo and other communities, allowing us to build meaningful connections across regions.

Reflecting on our half-day journey by air, I could only imagine how difficult it must have been in 1942 for Japanese Americans taken by train from the Fresno Fairgrounds — without being told their destination — on a multi-day journey into the unknown. Thinking of their anxiety and hardship was truly heartbreaking.

Jerome and Rohwer are each about a 15-minute drive north and south of McGehee, respectively. We had 28 participants in total, and we held fellowship gatherings on the first and second evenings. People connected by family ties to Jerome or Rohwer, who had come from many regions, shared stories related to the camps and formed new friendships.

On the second morning, we headed about 15 minutes south from McGehee to our first stop, the Jerome site. We visited the monument, which was built where the camp’s chicken ranch once stood. 

At the monument, we listened to Kim Ellington, the landowner, speak about the history of the site, and he guided us to the other features. 

The temperature was around 90 degrees —nothing unusual for those of us from Fresno — but the humidity was markedly different. 

It was overcast, and the humidity hovered around 80 percent, creating a stifling, sauna-like heat wherever we stood. Though we spent only three days there, participants said that experiencing the weather firsthand helped them better understand how difficult life must have been for those confined in barracks without air-conditioning and with restricted movement. It is something one can only truly grasp by visiting in person.

In the afternoon, we returned to McGehee to visit the local museum that preserves and exhibits artifacts from the Jerome and Rohwer camps. We had arranged in advance for the mayor of McGehee to give us a guided explanation and a question-and-answer session. 

As the town situated between Jerome and Rohwer, McGehee uses both city funds and donations to help maintain and preserve them. Among the displays was a collection donated by Akira Yokomi of Fowler, who had been incarcerated at Jerome. Yokomi was a significant figure in Central California’s Japanese American community and founded Central Fish Company in 1950. 

On the third and final day, under a light drizzle, we drove 15 minutes north from McGehee to Rohwer. In the middle of cotton fields, the Rohwer cemetery is beautifully maintained by the federal government. Participants took photos of the smokestack, viewed the interpretive panels, and then gathered at the center of the cemetery.

I set up a small portable altar with the incense set I had brought from Fresno. Donning my familiar red robe in the muggy heat, I quickly began to sweat, and I deeply felt how hard it must have been for Jodo Shinshu ministers who were themselves incarcerated yet continued to conduct Buddhist services in those conditions. We chanted Sambujo and Juseige, offered incense, and together honored those interned at Rohwer.

I shared the following reflection:

“People often ask me why I make pilgrimages to the various incarceration sites scattered across the country, even though, as a first-generation immigrant who came to America just over 20 years ago, I have no relatives who were incarcerated. 

“I tell them: We know that Japanese Americans were released after the war ended in 1945 because we see the living evidence — you and your families are here today. We know that, despite the many hardships, people regained their lives in freedom. 

“But when we imagine those who, in 1942, were herded — often with only the clothes on their backs — into fairgrounds and then into camps, not knowing when it would end, and who passed away before the camps closed in 1945, buried in these campgrounds, we realize they never saw that day of release. 

“Standing before their graves, we come to say: ‘Your fellow Japanese Americans survived, regained their freedom and now your descendants live in a more peaceful world. We have not forgotten you.’

“That is why I continue these pilgrimages.

“In Jodo Shinshu we have a teaching: ‘Those who are born before guide those who come after; those who are born later remember those who came before.’ This does not refer merely to honoring ancestors. It means our lives are sustained not only by our forebears and those around us, but also by a vast life beyond what we can see or know. 

“I do not know the faces or voices of those who died in the camps. Yet by visiting the places where they lived, feeling the harsh climate, and touching the remnants they left behind, I can directly encounter the traces of their lives. When I touch those living traces, Namo Amida Butsu arises naturally on my lips.

“I would say that my pilgrimages to these former incarceration sites are journeys that weave together past and present through Namo Amida Butsu. I humbly ask for your continued understanding and support for Fresno Betsuin’s pilgrimage efforts. Gassho”