For the past week I have been editing my 1985 book Gaijin! Gaijin! for re-issue. The chapter I began working on a few minutes ago was "Enrollment in Schools, Chapter 11. In that chapter we formally enrolled Philip and Janelle into the public schools of Isahaya, Japan about 15 miles away from Nagasaki. I came to the following passage where we were on the way to our son Philip's Junior High School Kita Isahaya Chu gakku, North Isahaya Junior High School. Walking with us and to do the introduction was Miss Ueda. As we walked, the elderly matron told us about herself and why her legs were bad. You will see in a moment why it suddenly hit me what day it is and the irony that out of a 365 page book this passage would come along today.
As we walked, Miss Ueda told us more about herself.
“I was born and spent my first years as a child in Arizona. My parents wanted me to be fluent in English so I learned to speak English before Japanese. That was very convenient for me when I returned to Japan. It was very easy for me to become an English teacher at Kwassui women’s school in Nagasaki.
“During the war, English was discontinued for a few years, so I taught other subjects. I was teaching at Kwassui the morning the bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Many of our students were working at the factories near the harbor. It was required of all students, you see. They had to help the war effort.
“I heard the air raid sirens and rushed into the hallway with some of the students. I saw the flash of the bomb on the wall and could hear it. It was as if the end of the world had come. I was fortunate to be protected by the hallway, but one of my colleagues who was still in her classroom died a few months later from the burns.”
The children, Lora and I were quiet. She spoke matter of fact, seeming without bitterness.
“Chinzei you know, was near the center of the blast. Most of its teachers, and students died instantly. We were told that it was some kind of new bomb, and none of the officials of town knew that it was radioactive. For days, I would walk down to Urakami to look for the students who had been working there. But, while I walked down there among the buildings looking for my students, I became poisoned by this radiation disease. At first, my hair fell out, and my gums bled. Also, I suffered from diarrhea for the first two months. Now I look big and fat and heavy, but after a few months then, I was only skin and bones. The doctors treated me and other victims, and after a few years some of the symptoms went away. But, even today, I tire easily, and since then, I can only work for one day and must take a rest the next day.
“About twenty years ago, everyone had to submit to an extensive physical examination. During that examination the doctor discovered my liver had been badly damaged by the radiation disease. So, even today, I must take some medication. It has helped over the years, but I am still under the doctor’s care and must rest several hours each day,” Miss Ueda said quietly.
Before that conversation, we had not really thought about the after effects of the bomb. The immediate death and short range death had been well publicized. I wondered how many thousands or hundreds of thousands were still disabled or suffering after 35 years. When she stopped talking, we walked in silence until we reached the school.
Respectfully submitted,Publish Post
Kenneth Fenter
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