Haruka Takaku and Johnny Tim Yellowtail worked alone in front of three headstones in one of the older sections at Powell’s Crown Hill Cemetery. They brought incense and fresh garden mums, offering the silent prayers of their ancestors.

Carved in river stones found locally, the beautiful headstones are a mystery to most. The interred men are identified on the stones, but in Kanji — one of three ancient writing systems of Japan. All three were relocated to Crown Hill after the graves in the camp’s Heart Mountain Cemetery were dug up and removed after the end of World War II to make room for homesteaders.

Takaku’s usual friendly smile was absent due to the seriousness of the ceremony. Meanwhile, according to Crow tribal member Yellowtail, his culture forbids him from even being in a cemetery.

“I’m not supposed to be around these graves. I’m not supposed to be around death,” Yellowtail said. “It’s a taboo for my culture, but I made an exception to come and take care of these three gentlemen because, if I died alone, I would want somebody to take care of me.”

He offered both prayers in Crow ancestral traditions at the familiar spot. Yellowtail is responsible for caring for the grave sites and he recently took instructions on how to care for Buddhist graves by Duncan Ryūken Williams, a Soto Zen Buddhist priest and professor of religion and East Asian languages and cultures at the University of Southern California. He also serves as the director of the USC Shinso Ito Center for Japanese Religions and Culture.

Takaku offered her prayers according to Buddhist traditions; Buddhism is the largest religion in Japan.

There is no way to know if the men were Buddhist at this point, but Takaku said there is a saying in Japan, “Born Shinto, married Christian, die Buddhist.”

The phrase reflects the cultural tendency for Japanese people to participate in rituals from different religions during major life events, rather than adhering to a single faith, she said. Interestingly, despite the prayers being offered in silence and this being their first time together at Crown Hill, both revealed after the ceremony they were praying that the three men “rest in peace.”

Most of those who died at camp were cremated, presumably so they could be shipped back to Japan easier. Only 25 bodies were buried in the camp’s cemetery.

Camp staff and volunteers worked after the war to contact relatives and friends of the almost 2,000 prisoners who died in the 10 internment camps quickly constructed to hold tens of thousands of Americans with Japanese descent and immigrants seeking a better life in the U.S. There were 185 deaths at Heart Mountain, mostly from disease and disproportionately affecting children and seniors.

In the end, only the three bodies of the men remained unclaimed. Crown Hill, which officially opened in 1910, offered to inter the remains of Kojiro Kawakami, 62, Tomoji Inouye, 56, and Otsuhei Hatanaka, 68, and their headstones were lovingly selected, carved and paid for by Powell community members so that those who visited the graves could sit in the grass and imagine Heart Mountain protecting the men; physical reminders of all those who never lived to see the end of their incarceration.

All three of the men died during the winter of 1942 shortly after arriving at the facility — often called a “concentration camp” by former internees and their families. They were part of a huge wave of young men who left Japan in the late 1890s and early 1900s to seek their fortunes. Many of the men, called Issei in Japanese (the first-generation Japanese immigrant to countries like the United States), made their fortunes and sent for their families to join them in the states. Others failed to make it and were relegated to minimum wage employment.

While nobody knows for sure, it is assumed the three men fit into the latter category. The Heart Mountain Sentinel, a newspaper published by incarcerees during the war, offered little information about the men other than it was thought they may have worked labor jobs for railroads on the West Coast and that their families could not be found.

After learning of the three unclaimed men while working at the Interpretive Center, Takaku wanted to visit the grave sites during the Japanese tradition of Obon, an annual midsummer festival in Japan to honor ancestors. It is believed the spirits of the deceased return to visit their living families for a few days in summer. Families travel to their hometowns to clean ancestral graves in bochis (Japanese for cemetery) and offer food both at the gravesite and at household altars. Fruit, like small melons, are often offered. Fruit is very expensive in the island nation — often six- to 10-times higher than fruit in the U.S.

The celebration includes lighting lanterns to guide the spirits and performing traditional dances like Bon Odori (which translates to feast of lanterns dance). Takaku is part of an initiative aiming to build goodwill and partnerships between Japan and the U.S. at the grassroots level. As the Japan Outreach Initiative (JOI) coordinator at the Heart Mountain Interpretive Center, she is officially at the center to introduce her culture to the local community through workshops and activities, deepening understanding of Japan and the heritage of Japanese Americans.

Visiting the graves some 80 years after the men were moved to Crown Hill was very meaningful for Takaku.

“These three men are Japanese Issei. After 80 years, to have [a] Japanese person visiting these graves, feels very special,” she said. “We won’t forget them.”

For more information about the Heart Mountain Wyoming Foundation and Interpretive Center: heartmountain.org.