News

by Michio Shimotaka, Staff Writer

Yoshiko Okada, 81, of Hatsukaichi City, Hiroshima, lost her father in the atomic bombing when she was two. His remains were not found, and she has no memories of spending time with him. In her memoir, she revealed for the first time the pain she had been holding in her heart, empathizing with young girls standing in the ruins of Ukraine or the Middle East. “They are exactly how I was 79 years ago.”

She lived in Nishishin-machi, just west of present-day Peace Memorial Park in Hiroshima City’s Naka Ward. But on August 6, 1945, she was with her mother and older brother at her mother’s parents’ home in the village of Hera (now part of the city of Hatsukaichi). At 8:15 a.m., a powerful blast occurred, and some parts of a clock broke and its hands stopped. She was not injured, but was exposed to “black rain” containing radioactive materials.

Her father Toshiso Tsuchiya, then 34, was in the army and was exposed to the bombing in Moto-machi (now part of Naka Ward) and was not accounted for. His parents and brothers, who lived together in Nishishin-machi, also died.

The last time she saw her father was about a week before the bombing. When he was visiting the city of Hatsukaichi on a mission, he stopped by his parents-in-law’s home. “I heard that he held me in his arms before he left. I don’t remember the feel of his hands or the smell of his cheeks.” After the war, whenever she visited the city of Hiroshima, she would look into the faces of men who had returned from the war by the roadside. “I guess I thought my father might be there,” said Ms. Okada.

After her father died, her grandfather and mother made a living as souvenir wholesalers, and her grandmother took care of her. Although she was deeply grateful to them, she could not help but think, “If only my father were here, if only there had been no war.” She was envious of her classmates who lived with both their parents.

At the end of last year, Ms. Okada obtained an Atomic Bomb Survivor’s Certificate in accordance with the new criteria for certification of victims of the “black rain. At the suggestion of an acquaintance, she contributed her first memoir to a collection of accounts of A-bomb experiences published this summer by a citizens’ group.

“Whenever I see images of war on television, they wring my heart, and childhood memories come back to me. ‘That girl’ in the news is me 79 years ago.” She is saddened by the reality that children are still going through the same experience she suffered through. She enjoys writing senryu poems and concluded her memoir with one: “Flowers offered to a grave without bones are sad.”

(Originally published on August 6, 2024)