Sixty Years Ago...
PostPosted: Fri Aug 05, 2005 2:12 pm
I visited Hiroshima in April. You would never guess, from the shops and arcades that initially greet you, that sixty years ago this city stood in ruins, obliterated by a single bomb. Walking from the train station, you only get hints - signs that say this particular tree was 1,030 meters from the hypocenter and so on - and until you get to the river, you are almost unaware of the history...
I've seen a number of the world's great buildings and historical sites, and most of them have left me flat. Not here. I turned the corner and there it stood, smaller than I imagined, but no less haunting. Striking in its austerity, it has a twisted beauty that I can't quite do justice to in a description.
I set up my tripod and took pictures from several different angles. I wanted myself in a photograph, but I couldn't exactly describe the peculiar workings of my camera to a Japanese stranger -- pressing the button doesn't always result in the camera taking a picture. So I stood and arm's length away and...
Debated. Should I smile? It seemed incongruous. This isn't Space Mountain or the Grand Canyon. Every person who worked in this building on August 6, 1945 died in a single, horrifying moment. No matter they were our enemies at the time, or that they (and their countrymen) might have visited similar violence on even more innocent civilians. Among other things, we should refrain from dancing on graves.
So, I took the picture -- me, the grimacing middle-aged gaijin in sneakers wandering a city that, were it not for that day, would probably not be recognized or remembered by the vast majority of the world's population...
http://www.yurusareta.net/images/ABD.jpg
I've seen a number of the world's great buildings and historical sites, and most of them have left me flat. Not here. I turned the corner and there it stood, smaller than I imagined, but no less haunting. Striking in its austerity, it has a twisted beauty that I can't quite do justice to in a description.
I set up my tripod and took pictures from several different angles. I wanted myself in a photograph, but I couldn't exactly describe the peculiar workings of my camera to a Japanese stranger -- pressing the button doesn't always result in the camera taking a picture. So I stood and arm's length away and...
Debated. Should I smile? It seemed incongruous. This isn't Space Mountain or the Grand Canyon. Every person who worked in this building on August 6, 1945 died in a single, horrifying moment. No matter they were our enemies at the time, or that they (and their countrymen) might have visited similar violence on even more innocent civilians. Among other things, we should refrain from dancing on graves.
So, I took the picture -- me, the grimacing middle-aged gaijin in sneakers wandering a city that, were it not for that day, would probably not be recognized or remembered by the vast majority of the world's population...
http://www.yurusareta.net/images/ABD.jpg