54th anniversary of Hiroshima atomic bombing: Man originally from “Nakajima-honmachi,” town at rest now, prays for peace and plangently conveys summer of his origin point, his cruel experience of “losing parents due to atomic bombing,” to children at his old school
Aug. 7, 1999
On August 6, the 54th anniversary of the atomic bombing, at Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park in Naka Ward, where remnants of “Nakajima-honmachi” are hidden beneath, Masanobu Fuji, 63, a resident of Sagamihara city, Kanagawa Prefecture, who lived in “Nakajima-honmachi” as an elementary school student, shared his experience of having lost his parents due to the atomic bombing during his school evacuation to the suburbs, with thirteen other sixth-year students of the elementary school he attended. Mr. Fuji said, “Rather than giving up conveying my bombing experience with assumption that it wouldn’t be understood, I want to do my utmost effort to have it communicated.” To those who would build the world in the 21st century, he presented Hiroshima’s message.
Mr. Fuji returned to his hometown to attend a memorial service held by the surviving families of residents of the former Nakajima-honmachi. On this day, he paid a visit to an exchange event related to Nakajima district, which took place at Rest House, an A-bombed building. Taking his retirement three years ago as an opportunity, he visited Nakajima Elementary School, where he once studied, and donated 50 small stones attaching the photo of A-bomb Dome to the school as “his own method of appealing for peace.” The children at the school sent him a letter conveying their hope to see him and to say a word of thanks.
When saying “I was the last student who stayed at the evacuation site after being separated from my father and mother…,” he choked on his words in talking about his experience when he was a third-year elementary school student and evacuated to the suburbs with other students at school. A teacher who was responsible for taking care of students at the evacuation site informed him of deaths of his father Yosuke, then 53, and mother Hisayo, then 40, at a temple in Mirasaka, Hiroshima Prefecture, where he had stayed since April 1945. While his friends were picked up by their family one after the other, he could only finally return to Hiroshima at the end of 1945. “I began to live with my three elder sisters.” That fact automatically had tears well up in his eyes.
He entered high school on scholarship, and while working at a construction company, graduated from university when he was 30 years old. He also began to create tanka (a short Japanese poem) which his mother once wrote in a letter addressed to him at the evacuation site. Seven years ago, he published a collection of his tanka works entitled “Genbaku hanseiki no kiseki (The history of half-a-century after the atomic bombing).” Now, he has continued to recount his “half-life” as an A-bomb orphan without holding anything back, by projecting slides related to the atomic bombing and holding an exhibit of military currency, which he had collected, in Sagamihara, Kanagawa Prefecture where he lives.
Finally, Mr. Fuj sent a message to children, saying, “Please learn thoroughly about the atomic bombing and war and think about what you should do.” After he listened to feedback from one of the students, who innocently said, “I am scared of the atomic bombing, but it sounds fun to evacuate to the suburbs with my friends,” he added with a wry smile, “To speak up and convey the experience is a duty as an adult. If I let it go, the fact of the atomic bombing itself would be forgotten.” He spoke as if nothing would be generated out of pessimism.
(Originally published on August 7, 1999)
Mr. Fuji returned to his hometown to attend a memorial service held by the surviving families of residents of the former Nakajima-honmachi. On this day, he paid a visit to an exchange event related to Nakajima district, which took place at Rest House, an A-bombed building. Taking his retirement three years ago as an opportunity, he visited Nakajima Elementary School, where he once studied, and donated 50 small stones attaching the photo of A-bomb Dome to the school as “his own method of appealing for peace.” The children at the school sent him a letter conveying their hope to see him and to say a word of thanks.
When saying “I was the last student who stayed at the evacuation site after being separated from my father and mother…,” he choked on his words in talking about his experience when he was a third-year elementary school student and evacuated to the suburbs with other students at school. A teacher who was responsible for taking care of students at the evacuation site informed him of deaths of his father Yosuke, then 53, and mother Hisayo, then 40, at a temple in Mirasaka, Hiroshima Prefecture, where he had stayed since April 1945. While his friends were picked up by their family one after the other, he could only finally return to Hiroshima at the end of 1945. “I began to live with my three elder sisters.” That fact automatically had tears well up in his eyes.
He entered high school on scholarship, and while working at a construction company, graduated from university when he was 30 years old. He also began to create tanka (a short Japanese poem) which his mother once wrote in a letter addressed to him at the evacuation site. Seven years ago, he published a collection of his tanka works entitled “Genbaku hanseiki no kiseki (The history of half-a-century after the atomic bombing).” Now, he has continued to recount his “half-life” as an A-bomb orphan without holding anything back, by projecting slides related to the atomic bombing and holding an exhibit of military currency, which he had collected, in Sagamihara, Kanagawa Prefecture where he lives.
Finally, Mr. Fuj sent a message to children, saying, “Please learn thoroughly about the atomic bombing and war and think about what you should do.” After he listened to feedback from one of the students, who innocently said, “I am scared of the atomic bombing, but it sounds fun to evacuate to the suburbs with my friends,” he added with a wry smile, “To speak up and convey the experience is a duty as an adult. If I let it go, the fact of the atomic bombing itself would be forgotten.” He spoke as if nothing would be generated out of pessimism.
(Originally published on August 7, 1999)
