FROM HIROSHIMA TO HOPE AUG 6TH = MARY FUJITA STORY
6月
23日
Story from one of the early organizers of HIROSHIMA TO HOPE LANTERN FESTIVAL
Each August 6th on Greenlake in Seattle
Mary Fujita celebrated her 100th birthday in 2008. She was energetic, fixing lunches and doing hair for all of us to the end. In 1991, she told me this story about surviving the Hiroshima bomb.
“In 1940, my husband injured his knee and the three of us, including my son Gene, went back to Hiroshima, Japan, to live. We were caught in Japan during WWII. I was living in my uncle’s house, closer to town, so Gene could go to high school. On that fateful day, my husband came on one of his rare visits to town on his motor scooter with vegetables.
I was scared with all the bombing and he offered me a ride to the dentist. I finished my appointment by 8am, near Minen-machi. One bus passed by and I was angry at the inconsiderate driver, but later I saw that bus with everyone on it burned with pain on their faces and dead babies in their arms. It’s a miracle that I’m alive!
The day was warm so I chose to stand by the open door behind the driver instead of taking a seat. The next thing I remember is being outside the bus on the ground. I remember a flash of light and assume I was thrown out through the open door. If the door had been closed, I would have been a ‘porcupine’ with broken glass. When the dust cleared, I could see the whole city. The only buildings remaining were the strong steel framed ones. I kept pinching myself because it got dark and like I was somewhere else. There was no big noise. I couldn’t figure out what was happening. I saw people with frizzy hair and dark faces from the blast. Then, I saw the bridge so I knew I was still in Hiroshima I thought, ‘Oh no, those horses are dead! This is inconceivable!’ Then I really started to get scared.
I couldn’t think of what to do except to run home. I tried to help, but everything was burning. I saw this one old injured lady and tried to help her up and her skin pulled off her arm like a peeled potato. I couldn’t do anything. It took almost two hours to get home and when I got there, I was covered by black rain.
It turned out, my son was safe on the south end of the city at school. Later that week, I went to the part of the city where my husband had gone and found his scooter among the rubble. There were ashes of one tall corpse. My husband was tall. A little farther away I found some teeth that looked perfect but no body. I hope he didn’t suffer long.”
Mary was an active member and promoter of the Survivors of Hiroshima. There was a time when survivors wanted to remain anonymous and would not take advantage of any medical help. If identified, they were afraid their children would be discriminated. I have a first cousin in Kyoto who never told her husband she was in Hiroshima at the time of the bombing because of possible hereditary affects of radiation.
