Hiroshima

I took the Shinkansen from Fukuoka to Hiroshima on December 19.  The Fukuoka subway station was steps from the hotel and only a couple of stops from the JR station. I bought a reserved seat on the Shinkansen as a hedge against crowds, but my car only had a smattering of passengers.  At 0830 I was off toward Honshu at 180 mph.

Hiroshima weather was changeable, but I had borrowed an umbrella at the hotel desk and set out on the streets to see the city rather than taking the streetcar. I was headed to the central point in the city, the Memorial Peace Park.

The reconstruction of the city to rival any other in Japan should not be surprising, but it felt strange that everywhere I was walking was leveled almost 70 years ago, a situation common to cities visited by Allied bombing in Germany and Japan alike.

The walk to the Memorial Park was not quite an hour, and I immediately arrived at the Genbaku Dome, an icon known throughout the world.  Located midway between the intended target of the weapon and the actual hypocenter 200m away, the building was the only structure left standing, like a testament of human resolve against destruction. Even the rubble left at the building's foundations was carefully preserved.

The park was immediately across the waterway. Various memorials are placed in the wooded areas and walking paths. The most moving was the "Memorial to the Victims of the Atomic Bomb."  The structure resembled the theme of the Vietnam War Memorial, with a indoor path spiraling downward into the earth.  Alcoves on the path explained the story of that day and the victims, leading to a well deep underground.  A large diorama encircled the room, depicting the destroyed city in exquisite mosaic tiles.  Caption stones were inlaid below identifying the different neighborhoods and structures destroyed.  A fountain in the center offered the gentle sound of water, representing the victims who cried for a drink in the aftermath.

Admission to the museum at the south end of the park was only 50 yen.  It presented the history of the city before, during and after the war.  There was no hypocrisy.  The exhibits told the story Japan's imperial past and Hiroshima's vital cultural, industrial and military role over centuries and in the Pacific War. Exhibits meticulously explained the science and geopolitics of the US and Allies leading to the manufacture and use of the weapon.  Elaborate models showed the state of the city before and after the detonation. Posters explained the effects.

I was most overcome by small, personal items.  A tricycle with enamel bubbled and scorched.

A metal lunchbox inscribed with a child's name. The contents were charcoal.

My heart full, I returned to 21st century streets. I passed underneath a busy intersection by an underground shopping passage.  Leroy Anderson's "Sleigh Ride" played in the background.  I smiled.

The Peace Memorial Park is not limited to events surrounding August 6, 1945, but points to a future free of conflicts that lead to weapons of mass destruction. I arrived in Fukuoka that evening for Sonos' performance. They invited the audience on stage to mingle with the performers while trying the bells and chimes. The happiness of two peoples coming together stood in contrast to the stories earlier that day. There truly is hope.