Etching in mind the A-bomb experiences, Part 3
Jul. 2, 2010
by Tomomitsu Miyazaki, Kunihiko Sakurai, Masaki Kadowaki, and Aya Kano, Staff Writers
Sixty years have passed since the atomic bombing [this series was originally published in July and August 2005] and the average age of the A-bomb survivors has risen to over 73. Opportunities to hear their stories in person are now diminishing. The survivors feel pressed for time in their quest to convey the experiences of the bombing to younger people, who themselves are overwhelmed by the challenge of grasping these experiences and handing down the memories of the A-bombed cities. In this series, the Chugoku Shimbun explores efforts to pass on the A-bomb experience to future generations as the difficulty increases in step with the age of the survivors.
On the evening of August 6, the surface of the Motoyasu River in downtown Hiroshima, near the hypocenter of the atomic bomb, is filled with about 10,000 flickering paper lanterns. The lanterns, with messages written on them to console the souls of the A-bomb victims, are floated each year in their memory. The last few years, letters have arrived for the organizers of the event from two sisters of an A-bomb victim, asking that a message for their late brother be written on a lantern on their behalf. "If only we were fit, we would go ourselves to console our brother's soul," they say.
The two sisters, neither of whom are A-bomb survivors, are Shigeko Kato, 84, of Shobara City and her younger sister Sumie Seo, 81, of Kure City. Ms. Kato wants to share how she is doing with her gentle older brother, a victim of the atomic bombing, and Ms. Seo creates haiku poems to pray for his repose. Last summer, however, the organizers did not hear from the younger sister.
In the middle of this month, Mayu Yasuda, 20, a third-year student at Hiroshima Shudo University, and Mariko Takamori, 23, a first-year graduate student at Hiroshima Institute of Technology, visited Ms. Seo at her home overlooking the Seto Inland Sea. The two young women are members of a volunteer group newly set up by the organizers of the paper lantern event. The group floats lanterns with messages on them on behalf of survivors and victims' families who are now too physically weak due to old age to float the lanterns themselves.
Sumie's husband is 82. He welcomed the two students at their home and said apologetically, "My wife is having difficulty communicating these days." The students were shown to her bedside and her husband helped her to sit up. Sumie has been bedridden due to the shock she experienced when her much-loved daughter-in-law died last year. She used to enjoy singing karaoke, but her strong voice is now barely audible. The two students brought their ears close to her mouth.
The sisters' brother, Masayoshi Kobayashi, was 27 at the time of the atomic bombing. He was exposed to the bomb at a distance of 1.5 kilometers from the hypocenter. He was reportedly brought to the emergency field hospital on the island of Ninoshima, off the coast of the city, and died there two days later. His father searched for him, but was unable to distinguish his son's remains. He could only locate a belt buckle with the emblem of Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial School (now Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial High School), the school Masayoshi attended. He brought it back to Tamori-mura (now Shobara City, Hiroshima Prefecture) and placed it in the family grave.
It took half an hour for Sumie to recount the story up to this point. She now seemed tired and needed a rest. Afterwards, the students hesitantly began asking: "What was your brother like?" "What did you feel when you heard the news of his death?" Sumie struggled for words.
"My brother bought me fabric with what little salary he had. I made an overcoat with it," she responded to the first question. To the second, she said, "I wept in a voice louder than the reciting of a Buddhist sutra."
Her responses, though faltering, were full of love. The students appeared satisfied.
Then the students asked: "What shall we write on the lantern this year?" Sumie shook her head, saying, "I can no longer come up with any haiku." She talked it over with the two students to decide on a message. Ms. Yasuda, one of the students, wrote the message on a sheet of Japanese paper with a pen: "Let us live in good health and as friends."
"I hope the dead will live as friends in the next world," she said. "I cannot join them yet, though." Sumie took two photos from beside her bed. In one was her father and her brother, and in the other appeared her late daughter-in-law. "Could you paste them to the paper lantern?" she asked. "I'd like my feelings to float along with it."
The unexpected request took the students aback. They agreed to float the lantern with photocopies of the two pictures. "We'll be certain to come again next year," they promised. "I'm very grateful," Sumie replied. Before parting, they took a photo together to remember the occasion.
(Originally published on July 27, 2005)
Lanterns with "family love" are floated for the bereaved
Sixty years have passed since the atomic bombing [this series was originally published in July and August 2005] and the average age of the A-bomb survivors has risen to over 73. Opportunities to hear their stories in person are now diminishing. The survivors feel pressed for time in their quest to convey the experiences of the bombing to younger people, who themselves are overwhelmed by the challenge of grasping these experiences and handing down the memories of the A-bombed cities. In this series, the Chugoku Shimbun explores efforts to pass on the A-bomb experience to future generations as the difficulty increases in step with the age of the survivors.
On the evening of August 6, the surface of the Motoyasu River in downtown Hiroshima, near the hypocenter of the atomic bomb, is filled with about 10,000 flickering paper lanterns. The lanterns, with messages written on them to console the souls of the A-bomb victims, are floated each year in their memory. The last few years, letters have arrived for the organizers of the event from two sisters of an A-bomb victim, asking that a message for their late brother be written on a lantern on their behalf. "If only we were fit, we would go ourselves to console our brother's soul," they say.
The two sisters, neither of whom are A-bomb survivors, are Shigeko Kato, 84, of Shobara City and her younger sister Sumie Seo, 81, of Kure City. Ms. Kato wants to share how she is doing with her gentle older brother, a victim of the atomic bombing, and Ms. Seo creates haiku poems to pray for his repose. Last summer, however, the organizers did not hear from the younger sister.
In the middle of this month, Mayu Yasuda, 20, a third-year student at Hiroshima Shudo University, and Mariko Takamori, 23, a first-year graduate student at Hiroshima Institute of Technology, visited Ms. Seo at her home overlooking the Seto Inland Sea. The two young women are members of a volunteer group newly set up by the organizers of the paper lantern event. The group floats lanterns with messages on them on behalf of survivors and victims' families who are now too physically weak due to old age to float the lanterns themselves.
Sumie's husband is 82. He welcomed the two students at their home and said apologetically, "My wife is having difficulty communicating these days." The students were shown to her bedside and her husband helped her to sit up. Sumie has been bedridden due to the shock she experienced when her much-loved daughter-in-law died last year. She used to enjoy singing karaoke, but her strong voice is now barely audible. The two students brought their ears close to her mouth.
The sisters' brother, Masayoshi Kobayashi, was 27 at the time of the atomic bombing. He was exposed to the bomb at a distance of 1.5 kilometers from the hypocenter. He was reportedly brought to the emergency field hospital on the island of Ninoshima, off the coast of the city, and died there two days later. His father searched for him, but was unable to distinguish his son's remains. He could only locate a belt buckle with the emblem of Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial School (now Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial High School), the school Masayoshi attended. He brought it back to Tamori-mura (now Shobara City, Hiroshima Prefecture) and placed it in the family grave.
It took half an hour for Sumie to recount the story up to this point. She now seemed tired and needed a rest. Afterwards, the students hesitantly began asking: "What was your brother like?" "What did you feel when you heard the news of his death?" Sumie struggled for words.
"My brother bought me fabric with what little salary he had. I made an overcoat with it," she responded to the first question. To the second, she said, "I wept in a voice louder than the reciting of a Buddhist sutra."
Her responses, though faltering, were full of love. The students appeared satisfied.
Then the students asked: "What shall we write on the lantern this year?" Sumie shook her head, saying, "I can no longer come up with any haiku." She talked it over with the two students to decide on a message. Ms. Yasuda, one of the students, wrote the message on a sheet of Japanese paper with a pen: "Let us live in good health and as friends."
"I hope the dead will live as friends in the next world," she said. "I cannot join them yet, though." Sumie took two photos from beside her bed. In one was her father and her brother, and in the other appeared her late daughter-in-law. "Could you paste them to the paper lantern?" she asked. "I'd like my feelings to float along with it."
The unexpected request took the students aback. They agreed to float the lantern with photocopies of the two pictures. "We'll be certain to come again next year," they promised. "I'm very grateful," Sumie replied. Before parting, they took a photo together to remember the occasion.
(Originally published on July 27, 2005)
