In 1939, World War II began when Nazi Germany, led by Adolf Hitler, invaded Poland. This marked the beginning of a brutal conflict that would draw in countries from all over the world. The war quickly escalated as Germany formed the Axis Powers with Italy and Japan. On the other side, the Allied Powers included major nations like the United States, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union, and China.
The war devastatingly reached the United States on December 7, 1941, when Japan launched a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Over 2,400 Americans were killed, and the attack crippled the U.S. Navy. The next day, the United States declared war on Japan, officially joining the Allies. Tens of thousands of young men, including my grandfathers, quickly enlisted to defend the United States.
But at home, fear and suspicion spread quickly. Many Americans worried that Japanese Americans — even those born and raised in the U.S. — might be loyal to Japan and could pose a threat. This fear led to one of the darkest chapters in American history.
Executive Order 9066 and the Creation of Amache
On February 19, 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, which allowed the government to remove people of Japanese ancestry from their homes along the West Coast and relocate them to internment camps. About 120,000 Japanese Americans — two-thirds of whom were U.S. citizens — were forcibly removed from their homes, losing businesses, farms, and possessions. They were sent to 10 internment camps in remote and harsh environments across the western United States.
One of those camps was Amache, officially known as the Granada Relocation Center, located near Grenada, Colorado. Amache opened in August 1942 and eventually held over 7,500 people, making it the 10th largest city in Colorado at the time.
Life in Amache
Living conditions at Amache were harsh. The camp was located on dry, dusty plains, where summer heat could reach over 100°F and winter temperatures dropped below freezing. Families were housed in simple barracks made of tar paper and wood, with no insulation and shared latrines.
Despite these difficult conditions, the Japanese American community at Amache worked to create a sense of normalcy. They established schools, built gardens, and formed sports teams. Many young men from Amache volunteered to serve in the U.S. military — even while their families were imprisoned — to prove their loyalty. Some of these men joined the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, which became one of the most decorated units in U.S. military history.
Closure and Legacy
Amache was closed in October 1945, after the war ended. When the internees were released, many had nothing to return to — their homes and businesses had been lost. In 1988, the U.S. government formally apologized for the internment with the Civil Liberties Act, acknowledging that the internment was based on “racial prejudice, wartime hysteria, and a failure of political leadership.” Survivors were awarded $20,000 each in reparations — though for many, no amount of money could erase the trauma.
Preserving the Memory
Today, Amache is a National Historic Site. Efforts to preserve the site and educate people about what happened continue so that the injustices faced by Japanese Americans during World War II are never forgotten. And the story of how Amache was saved is truly amazing.
Discovering History in Their Backyard
In the early 1990s, John Hopper, a social studies teacher at Granada High School, discovered that his town was home to an important but largely forgotten piece of American history. Less than a mile from his classroom stood the remains of Amache, officially known as the Granada War Relocation Center — one of ten internment camps where Japanese Americans were forcibly relocated and imprisoned during World War II.
Hopper saw an opportunity — not just to restore the site, but to educate his students and the community about this dark chapter of American history.
The Birth of the Amache Preservation Society
In 1993, Hopper founded the Amache Preservation Society (APS) with a group of students from Granada High School. Their mission was clear: preserve the site, educate others about its history, and honor the memory of those who had been unjustly imprisoned there.
The APS started small, but their dedication quickly grew. The students took on the physical task of restoring Amache, repairing the few remaining structures, clearing the land, cleaning up the cemetery, and setting up markers to help visitors understand the site’s layout. They even reconstructed a guard tower and barracks, making it possible for visitors to visualize what life had been like at Amache.
But preserving the site was only part of their mission — they also wanted to educate others.
Spreading the Story
The students began speaking at schools, community events, and historical societies. They created educational materials and even started guiding tours of the site. Their outreach extended beyond Colorado — they traveled to other states and even Japan to share the story of Amache and connect with others affected by similar wartime injustices.
One of their most significant accomplishments was the establishment of the Amache Museum in Granada. The museum became home to artifacts, photographs, and personal stories from former internees. Visitors can now experience the history of Amache firsthand through letters, clothing, and restored household items that had survived the internment years.
I met Mr Hopper and a couple of his students while I was visiting the museum. They were passionate and excited about the resources the National Park Service would bring over the next few years. I anticipate returning to Amache sometime after 2030, which will give the park service time to build a visitors center, and hopefully they will deploy an audio tour similar to the one at
Washita Battlefield National Historic Site.
National Recognition and Historic Status
The hard work of Hopper and his students did not go unnoticed. Their preservation efforts and public outreach helped Amache receive national recognition:
✅ 2006 – Amache was designated a National Historic Landmark
✅ 2022 – Amache was officially added to the National Park System, ensuring federal protection and long-term preservation
What started as a local school project had become a nationally recognized historical site — a place where the stories of those who endured injustice could be preserved and shared with future generations.
A Lasting Legacy
John Hopper’s work at Amache wasn’t just about preserving the site — it was about ensuring that the lessons of Amache are never forgotten. He empowered his students to become historians, preservationists, and storytellers. Many former APS members have gone on to work in education, history, and public service, continuing the legacy of remembrance and justice.
Today, Amache stands as a testament to the resilience of the Japanese American community and the power of grassroots preservation. The story of Amache reminds us that history is not just something that happens — it’s something we must remember, protect, and learn from
My Photos from the Amache Museum in Granada
Click on the photos to bring up a full-size image. In the upper right corner of the screen is a magnifying glass that enables you to zoom in on the images.
The Amache Grounds
It’s one thing to go to a museum and to see the artifacts and maps of something like Amache. It’s a totally different experience to go to the site itself.
I knew that the water tower from the site remained. When I showed up at the site, my mind was utterly blown. The entrance to the site and the distance to the water tower were much more than I expected. It gave me a very significant sense of just how big this site was.
Here are a few photos of the water tower from within the site itself. It wasn’t until I got closer to it that I thought to take some photos.
There were so many difficult moments as I wandered through the site. The United States had interned US citizens illegally, and rather than be bitter and spiteful, over 1000 young men and women from Amache served in the United States military.
It bears repeating this was a prison, what until the Nazis redefined the word, a concentration camp. US citizens were forced to live in barracks in a camp with guard towers.
I did take a few moments to stop at the cemetery and pay my respects. It’s hard to fathom what it would be like to be forced into something like this place. It is even more sobering to watch those you love pass away without ever experiencing the freedom that this country supposedly offers.
Historical Parallels in Modern Policies
Recent actions by the Trump administration have raised alarms among historians and civil rights advocates, drawing unsettling parallels to one of the darkest chapters in American history — the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II.
One of the most concerning moves was the administration’s invocation of the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to justify mass deportations of non-citizens without warrants. This act was originally passed during wartime, giving the government the authority to detain or deport foreign nationals from hostile countries. It was most infamously used during World War II to justify the internment of over 120,000 Japanese Americans, two-thirds of whom were U.S. citizens with thousands interned at Amache.
Reviving this act in peacetime — particularly as part of an immigration crackdown — has drawn fierce criticism from civil rights groups and constitutional scholars. Critics argue that using the Alien Enemies Act in this way undermines constitutional protections, violates due process, and sets a dangerous precedent for targeting individuals based on national origin or ethnicity.
Furthermore, the Trump administration’s comparison of the treatment of individuals jailed for the January 6 Capitol riots to the internment of Japanese Americans has been met with widespread backlash. During a public statement, a member of the administration suggested that the Capitol rioters were being treated unjustly, comparing their situation to the forced relocation and imprisonment of Japanese Americans during World War II.
Historians and Japanese American advocacy groups quickly condemned this comparison as grossly inaccurate and deeply offensive. The Capitol rioters were arrested for participating in a violent attack on democracy, whereas Japanese Americans were imprisoned solely based on their ethnicity and unfounded fears of disloyalty. The false equivalence between the two events risks trivializing the profound injustices suffered by innocent civilians during World War II.
The Importance of Remembering
Forgetting the lessons of Amache and similar sites risks repeating history’s mistakes. Preserving these memories is not just about honoring the past — it’s about protecting the future.
✅ Vigilance Against Injustice
Understanding past injustices equips society to recognize and challenge similar patterns in the present. The use of wartime authority for peacetime political or security goals should raise immediate concerns about civil liberties and due process.
✅ Educational Imperative
Educating new generations about the internment of Japanese Americans fosters empathy and a commitment to uphold civil liberties. If students don’t learn about Amache and similar injustices, they are less likely to recognize the warning signs of government overreach and discrimination.
✅ Honoring Victims
Acknowledging and remembering the suffering endured by marginalized communities is a step toward healing and reconciliation. Survivors of Amache and their descendants have long advocated for recognition and justice — efforts that risk being undermined if history is misrepresented or forgotten.
A Final Thought
The story of Amache is not just a relic of the past — it is a cautionary tale for the present. The forced internment of Japanese Americans during World War II stands as one of the most blatant violations of civil rights in American history. The use of the Alien Enemies Act and the careless comparisons to Japanese American internment are troubling signs that history’s lessons are being forgotten — or worse, ignored.
As policies reminiscent of historical injustices resurface, it becomes imperative to remember and learn from these episodes. Only through active remembrance and vigilance can we ensure that the mistakes of history are not repeated. The lessons of Amache teach us that fear must never override justice — and that the defense of civil liberties is a responsibility we must all carry.
Photos of the Signage at Amache
I anticipate that, in the years to come, the National Park Service will replace many of the excellent signs and placards that dot the site as they update and upgrade it. It is with deep reverence that I extend my thanks to Mr. Hopper and his students for all of their dedication to saving this site and its stories.
