by Ellen Hayakawa

Bowen Island resident Ellen Hayakawa provided the following piece to mark the 60th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. Hayakawa’s aunt Sumie, uncle Minikichi, and their daughter Yasko miraculously survived that day. Sumie related her memories of the day the bomb was dropped to family member Grace Jio during Grace’s visit to Japan in 1979.

The people of Hiroshima had been warned about the impending danger of a bombing by American planes, and Sumie had prepared her family for the danger. She had sent eight-year-old Yoshihiro to stay with her parents in a farming area far from the city, and she had a satchel with money and a few belongings ready. On August 6 at 8:15 am, she had just finished hanging out her clothes, and her five-year-old daughter Yasko was playing in the dirt. Suddenly, a white plume appeared in the sky, and white clouds enveloped the entire area. Her first thought was of Yasko, and she immediately fell upon her, covering her with her body. Opa-style, she put her on her back, slipped into her house, washed her face, and unconsciously grabbed a bucket, as she was in the habit of doing. Grabbing the satchel of money, she walked and saw friends and neighbours – some with their skin falling off, and some sprawled beneath the roofs of their houses, their bowels exposed, and their flesh burning. No one stopped to help because everyone was worried about saving their own lives.

Sumie kept thinking about Yasko, aware that her daughter had inhaled the gases and was barely alive. She kept walking towards the river and wondered what had happened to Minikichi her husband. He had been feeling poorly for the last three or four days and had not gone to work. On that particular morning, he had left the house early. As Sumie walked, she saw people who were horribly burned, crying and looking for their loved ones. She suddenly realized that her satchel of money was gone and that she was carrying the bucket that she normally did her household chores with. Throwing it away, she continued to the river, which was particularly high, and she waded in chest-high. Hundreds of people were clamouring and screaming beside her until she reached the other side. She rested on the sandy beach, and although she was thirsty she did not drink any water. Along the road, she saw many soldiers asking for water, knowing that if they did drink, death was inevitable. People told the soldiers, “Do not drink water, or you shall die.”

They replied, “We do not care; it is better to die.” As Sumie continued to walk, people were gathering the hundreds of dead and throwing them on to a pile of other human bodies and burning them. She continued to walk, thinking only of Yasko and herself and wondering where Minikichi was. She saw a man with a white hat that had been partially burned off, the top part of his body exposed – his clothing had been burned off – and his face bleeding. She continued to walk towards the man, certain it was her husband. Cleaning his wounds, she supported him, as he was very weak and ready to collapse. As Minikichi clung to her, she continued to the road that would take them to her parents’ house. She was so tired, and had no money and nothing to eat. Spotting an army truck, she asked for a ride for her and her family. Although the truck was full of people, they were able to get on and finally reached her parents’ home. Uncle Minikichi had a high fever for one month, and Sumie continued to care for him, firmly believing that vegetables restored him back to health. They also went to a desert where healing cacti grew. The family remained near her mothers’ farm for 16 years. Sumie sewed kimonos and her husband made gehs (drums), and taught Noh theatre.

Aunt Sumie became a professional kimono dressmaker, having moved back into Hiroshima - Eta. She sewed for 43 years and still sews at the age of 67. She would like to forget about the Hiroshima bombing, but can still visualize the large B-29 bomber and the clouds of atomic dust.

I give thanks to Grace for the careful recording of this horrific aspect of our family history. It is important to know about the strength of our family and why we are strong – that even in the midst of such profound suffering and tragedy, our ancestors and relations survived and went on. The undying spirit of the Shiraishi/Yamasaki family lives on in us today.