Hiro and the Heartcrushers

In addition to the Hiroshima Memorial Peace Park (of which our prior entry endeavored to provide some small impression), there also stands a full museum dedicated to the bombing of Hiroshima. I did not feel it appropriate to take any photos whatsoever while inside. However, I would like to give a brief description of the Museum itself, and my visit there.

First and foremost, I feel a need to say that I developed a deep love of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. Of course, as my friend Debby Goforth accurately put it, the museum is an “emotionally exhausting place,” and yet I feel that it is one of the most important places to visit in the world.

Say “Hello” to the Heartcrusher

All exhibits feature English and Japanese text, yet there is also the option of renting an audio tour guide device in whatever language you may need. Simply punch the number corresponding to the exhibit in front of you into the device’s keypad, and WHAM! you get the atomic Full Monty.

I came to affectionately call my tour guide device “The Heartcrusher.” This thing exponentially magnifies the intensity of the museum, and yet I cannot recommend renting one enough.

It’s just part of the experience.

Not every story we need to hear will be a designed to make us feel good. But we must listen to all of them, even the ones that hurt to hear, and hurt to tell.

Hiroshima Peace Museum Part I

The first half of the museum gives all manner of factual information about World War II, the bombing of Japan, Japan’s attacks on America, and nuclear power in general (both weapons grade and otherwise). It addresses many of the toughest questions about the bombing, up to and including “Why the fuck did this happen to us???”

This section is highly educational, and very comprehensive. Nowhere does it get into finger pointing or blaming anyone. It’s less about “Look at this fucked up shit America did to us!” and more about “Let’s make sure this never happens again.”

Among the historical documents reproduced for this section are metal plates engraved with official letters requesting disarmament, each of which was sent by Hiroshima’s mayor to a national leader upon learning that said leader’s nation conducted a nuclear test. To this day, whenever there is a nuclear test anywhere in the world, whoever holds the office of mayor in Hiroshima sends just such a letter.

Seeing them all together like that is deeply moving.

The first half also features two side by side models of Hiroshima City representing “just before,” and “immediately after”, August 6th, 1945. Needless to say, the first model looks like a mid-century Japanese city, and the second model looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Most of the buildings in Japan were wooden structures at that time, and so there was basically nothing left in the blast zone except the Peace Dome, a handful of burnt up trees, and a few intermittent piles of rubble. I specifically recall Koji-San pointing to one completely obliterated portion of the model and saying, “Hisachan’s house, there.”

I believe I noted in my last chapter that I struggled with tears repeatedly on this day. So yup, insert more of that here.

After the first section, which goes on for three floors—all built around a life-sized replica of the upper portion of the shattered Peace Dome—there is a gift shop and resting area.

The gift shop sells many fascinating books and memorabilia. I was also stoked to see that there were even books and comics—all on topic—for kids. Additionally, there were pins which say “Stop the War! Peace from Hiroshima, since 1945.” Just thinking about the words imprinted on them chokes me up.

I bought three.

Hiroshima Peace Museum Part II

The second half of the museum focuses on actual artifacts of the bombing, accompanied by personal stories to honor the victims, and is definitely one of the most powerful things possible to experience in the world.

As you enter the second section, you actually pass through an incredibly realistic recreation of a scene from the bombing—the hallway becomes ruinous, the windows look out onto scenes of fiery devastation, and as you round the corner, you encounter a life-sized model of a couple and their child wandering through the wreckage of the city. Their clothes in tatters, skin sloughing off their half-outstretched arms, their lips parched and thirsty… A still life saying “There was still life.”

Words cannot do it justice, and to be honest, I am wary of describing it further, lest my words unintentionally sensationalize it. It was very accurate, powerful, and moving.

Other exhibits which hit me the hardest include a man’s shadow permanently burnt into the concrete steps where he had been sitting at the moment of the blast; a watch, its hands stopped exactly at 8:15am; and a child’s bento box with the ashes of his uneaten lunch still inside.

The Heartcrusher gently informed me that the boy’s mother had found the bento box while searching for him amongst the wreckage. Most of the bodies had been burned so badly that you couldn’t really tell who was who anymore, but his mother found this metal bento box among the corpses, and knew it was her son’s from the name engraved upon it.

The Heartcrusher went on to explain how she had lovingly prepared that lunch for him, and how he had left the house that morning talking about how excited he was to eat it. All that remains are a box full of ashes, and his story.

Among the other many touching and harrowing artifacts were glass bowls fused together from the atomic heat; finger nails, skin, and hair which had fallen off from radiation poisoning; a child’s mangled tricycle; and many other haunting relics of that unspeakable tragedy.

As I listened to the stories attached to each of these items, I felt a deep need to hear each and every one of them. It takes incredible strength to tell those kinds of stories, and the least we can do is manifest the strength to listen.

Make it a Point to Go

The museum is beautiful and brutal, heartfelt and harrowing. Make it a point to go someday. It is heartbreaking, but you will be glad you did it. I intend to visit each time I am in Hiroshima.

On the way out, there is a petition requesting the disarmament of all nuclear weapons. I defy anyone not to sign it after experiencing that museum. Of course, I would have signed it anyway, so maybe I’m not the best judge.

And that’s the Museum.

Go there someday.

And be thankful that you did.