Latest news with #YoshitoMatsushige
Metro
09-08-2025
- General
- Metro
I survived a nuclear bomb - this is what it felt like
'I didn't hear any sound. The world around me turned bright white. Immediately after that, the blast came.' These are the words of Yoshito Matsushige, who was 32 and living in Hiroshima, Japan, in August 1945. He was at home, nearly two miles away from the blast centre, when the first atomic bomb detonated at 8.14 am. The clear blue skies on that morning suddenly turned a sickly shade of purple and grey after the bomb was dropped, marking a dangerous new time in human history: the nuclear age. Days later, a second would explode in Nagasaki, 250 miles south. Warning leaflets had been dropped on both cities before the detonation, but were widely confiscated by authorities, leaving locals widely unaware of the horrors which awaited them. It's been 80 years since the world changed. The few remaining survivors of the blasts in Japan are entering the twilight of their lives and telling their testimonies to ensure the horrors which they witnessed never repeat themselves. Yoshito, who died aged 92 in 2005, struggled with his emotions to capture the only known photographs of the aftermath of Hiroshima. But eight decades after the bombs went off, talks of potential nuclear attacks are still dominating news headlines. 'Average citizens are the primary victims of war, always,' Nagasaki survivor Takato Michishita told TIME. 'Dear young people who have never experienced the horrors of war – I fear that some of you may be taking this hard-earned peace for granted.' 'I had finished breakfast and was getting ready to go to the newspaper when it happened. There was a flash from the indoor wires as if lightning had struck. I didn't hear any sound. The world around me turned bright white. Immediately after that, the blast came.' Yoshito said: 'I was bare from the waist up, and the blast was so intense, it felt like hundreds of needles were stabbing me all at once. I pulled my camera and the clothes issued by the military headquarters out from under the mound of debris, and I got dressed.' He wandered towards the Miyuki bridge, where many victims, mostly junior high girls from nearby schools, had gathered after being told to evacuate buildings. Towards the end of the Second World War, the United States was desperate to end the conflict by whatever means necessary. Their solution was to drop two nuclear bombs, never before used in human history, on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Both cities were vital points for military and industrial reasons – striking them would bring Japan to its knees, Americans hoped, forcing it to surrender and end the war. The bombs did end the war, but their use has been questioned ever since. Was it necessary to kill that many people and use a weapon of mass destruction? He added: 'Having been directly exposed to the heat rays, they were covered with blisters, the size of balls, on their backs, their faces, their shoulders and their arms. The blisters were starting to burst open, and their skin hung down like rugs. Some of the children even have burns on the soles of their feet. They'd lost their shoes and run barefoot through the burning fire.' 70,000 were killed instantly in Hiroshima. By the end of the year, more than 150,000 deaths were recorded in total from radiation poisoning and injuries. Fujio Torikoshi was just over a mile away from the blast, eating breakfast with his mum, when he heard a plane. He wandered outside to look but saw nothing. He said: 'Bewildered, I glanced to the northeast. I saw a black dot in the sky. Suddenly, it 'burst' into a ball of blinding light that filled my surroundings. 'A gust of hot wind hit my face; I instantly closed my eyes and knelt down to the ground. As I tried to gain footing, another gust of wind lifted me up, and I hit something hard. I do not remember what happened after that. 'When I finally came to, I was passed out in front of a bouka suisou (stone water container used to extinguish fires back then). Suddenly, I felt an intense burning sensation on my face and arms, and tried to dunk my body into the bouka suisou. 'The water made it worse. I heard my mother's voice in the distance. 'Fujio! Fujio!' I clung to her desperately as she scooped me up in her arms. 'It burns, mama! It burns!' News of the horrific attack had spread through Japan, but it wasn't known just how bad the damage was. There had been no air raid alarms that morning, but Shigek Matsumoto, then 11, had been hiding in a local bomb shelter with her siblings for days. 'The sky turned bright white,' she recalled. She was knocked off her feet, unaware of what had happened until scores of burn victims came hobbling towards the shelter. 'Their skin had peeled off their bodies and faces and hung limply down on the ground, in ribbons. Their hair was burnt down to a few measly centimetres from the scalp,' she recalled. As soon as the first bomb detonated in Hiroshima, 70,000 died instantly. The death toll rose to 140,000 by the end of the year. In Nagasaki, 40,000 died instantly. Later, the toll rose to around 70,000 from those who died from injuries and radiation exposure. In total, the nuclear bombs killed an estimated 250,000 people and left thousands of others with long-term conditions. 'Many of the victims collapsed as soon as they reached the bomb shelter entrance, forming a massive pile of contorted bodies. The stench and heat were unbearable.' Survivor Kayano Nagai saw the atomic bomb in Nagasaki when she was just four years old. 'I remember the cicadas chirping. The atom bomb was the last thing that happened in the war, and no more bad things have happened since then, but I don't have my Mummy any more.' Nearly half of the city was destroyed. Nagasaki was, quite literally, a nuclear wasteland. Rescue and medical care were nearly impossible. Roughly 100,000 survivors of the atomic bombings are still alive today. 'It's more important than ever that we listen to the remaining survivors,' Florian Eblenkamp, advocacy officer with The International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN) told Metro. 'Their message is clear: these weapons must be abolished. If we want to honour their legacy, that's what we should focus on. We can't continue to gamble with the fate of humanity.' One of the forgotten details of the bombings in Japan is that of the thousands killed, 38,000 were children. Nuclear weapons and the threats they carry are seen by most as an abstract idea – a far-fetched, last-ditch option in conflict. Florian argues the most significant message to remember on the 80th anniversary is that these weapons are not abstract, deterrents or a political pawns. 'These are big bombs that kill for generations and whose effects are so widespread that they don't stop at national borders,' he said. Today, the city appears to be a bustling area full of life. Aya Fujioka, a photographer, told the Guardian that children are seen dancing in the street in a carefree manner, swimmers are seen freely paddling in the city's six rivers and people are often spotted praying as an 'everyday gesture'. According to the Radiation Effects Research Foundation (RERF), radiation levels in Hiroshima are nearly indistinguishable from natural background radiation levels anywhere on earth. As decades have passed since the attack, residents and visitors can go to the city without fear of being poisoned by any nuclear radiation. Following the bombing, the city established the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park in the city as a way to mark the city's past. It was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1996. Fabio Crispim, SEO journalist at Metro, visited the city three months ago. He said: 'Turning out of one of Hiroshima's busiest shopping avenues into the empty and quiet Hiroshima memorial park was a striking experience, but even more so was standing up close to the Atomic Bomb Done, where hundreds died. 'Still standing after 80 years as a stark reminder of the dangers of war, seeing the ruins and the rubble left behind led my friends and I to reflect on the loss of lives and the long-lasting impact it's had on the world. It's something I fear we've forgotten, and something I wish more could see.' Inside the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in the city, there is a marking on some steps of the former entrance to the Sumitomo Bank. It is believed to be a shadow of a person who was sitting at the entrance on the morning of August 6 at the time the atomic bomb was dropped. Researchers said that the person would have died instantly, suffering severe burning. While the victim's identity remains unknown, it is believed the person who was sat there was a 42-year-old woman named Mitsuno Ochi. Nuclear threats continue even now. This week, Russia issued a warning to the world after Trump deployed nuclear submarines in the region of Russia. After being told to 'watch his words' by Trump, former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev shocked many when he reminded the US of Russia's nuclear strike capabilities. 'Remember how dangerous the fabled 'Dead Hand' can be,' Medvedev wrote on Telegram, referencing Soviet-era Doomsday nuclear weapons. In June, the UK announced it was buying a dozen F-35A warplanes – all capable of carrying nuclear weapons – from the US, following criticism from Donald Trump that Nato members are not spending enough on defence. Other countries are continuing to build their nuclear arsenal and carry out test launches. Last year, North Korea carried out the country's longest ballistic missile test, with a flight time of 87 minutes, while warning its 'enemies' of attack. For the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the world stopped in August 1945. But the world is advancing its nuclear programmes, using the threat of these weapons of mass destruction as pawns in political games. More Trending Florian explained: 'We need to reject this idea that weapons of mass destruction are necessary for a country's defence. But look at the reality of the world: many of the countries that have nuclear weapons or are now involved in active conflict. 'Possessing nuclear weapons doesn't guarantee peace in your country. It's naive to think that you can just continue possessing nuclear weapons and nothing will happen.' Experts now say the risk of nuclear war is higher than ever, Florian says, and the world is now at a critical crossroads. 'We have to decide: is this a stable model for international geopolitics, or is it time to face the truth and reject these weapons as too dangerous to handle by anyone?' Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page. MORE: The viral Lucia Striped Table Lamp from Dush is back in-stock – and costs £35 MORE: Security video shows Olympic gold medallist attacking boyfriend at airport MORE: Grab £245 worth of beauty icons for £65 in LOOKFANTASTIC's newest beauty box
NDTV
07-08-2025
- General
- NDTV
"Skin Hung Like Rugs": Hiroshima Survivors Share Chilling Memories Of The Day Hell Fell from Sky
On the morning of August 6, 1945, at precisely 8:14 am, the skies above Hiroshima turned from clear blue to a sickly purple and grey. The world entered a new and terrifying era: the nuclear age. Yoshito Matsushige, then 32, was nearly two miles from the blast centre. "There was a flash from the wires, like lightning," he said. "I didn't hear any sound. The world turned bright white, then came the blast," he told The Metro Half-naked and wounded by the intense heat, Matsushige retrieved his camera from the rubble and began documenting the aftermath. His haunting photographs remain the only known visual record taken on that day, as per the news portal. He walked to Miyuki Bridge, where scores of injured schoolgirls had gathered. "Their skin hung down like rugs," he recalled. "They had blisters the size of balls and burns even on the soles of their feet." Roughly 70,000 people died instantly in Hiroshima. By year's end, the death toll rose past 150,000 due to radiation and injuries. Days later, a second atomic bomb would decimate Nagasaki. "Average citizens are the primary victims of war, always," Nagasaki survivor Takato Michishita told TIME."Dear young people who have never experienced the horrors of war - I fear that some of you may be taking this hard-earned peace for granted." "I had finished breakfast and was getting ready to go to the newspaper when it happened. There was a flash from the indoor wires as if lightning had struck. I didn't hear any sound. The world around me turned bright white. Immediately after that, the blast came." Fujio Torikoshi, a young boy at the time, was just over a mile from the blast, eating breakfast with his mother. "I saw a black dot in the sky," he said. "Then came a blinding flash. A gust of hot wind lifted me up. I don't remember what happened next." When he regained consciousness, he was in pain and covered in burns. His mother found him. "It burns, Mama! It burns!" he cried. Now, 80 years later, the few remaining survivors continue to share their stories, hoping future generations never forget. As nuclear tensions rise once more, their testimonies serve as a warning: peace must never be taken for granted. Why Were Hiroshima and Nagasaki Bombed? As World War II neared its end, the United States was determined to force a swift conclusion to the conflict. In a historic and devastating move, the US dropped two atomic bombs-on Hiroshima and Nagasaki-marking the first use of nuclear weapons in warfare. Both cities were considered key military and industrial hubs, and US officials believed targeting them would cripple Japan's war capability and compel a surrender. While the bombings did lead to Japan's surrender and the end of the war, the decision has remained deeply controversial, raising lasting ethical and humanitarian questions.
Metro
06-08-2025
- General
- Metro
I survived Hiroshima 80 years ago - it felt like hundreds of needles stabbing me
'I didn't hear any sound. The world around me turned bright white. Immediately after that, the blast came.' These are the words of Yoshito Matsushige, who was 32 and living in Hiroshima, Japan, in August 1945. He was at home, nearly two miles away from the blast centre, when the first atomic bomb detonated at 8.14 am. The clear blue skies on that morning suddenly turned a sickly shade of purple and grey after the bomb was dropped, marking a dangerous new time in human history: the nuclear age. Days later, a second would explode in Nagasaki, 250 miles south. Warning leaflets had been dropped on both cities before the detonation, but were widely confiscated by authorities, leaving locals widely unaware of the horrors which awaited them. It's been 80 years since the world changed. The few remaining survivors of the blasts in Japan are entering the twilight of their lives and telling their testimonies to ensure the horrors which they witnessed never repeat themselves. But eight decades after the bombs went off, talks of potential nuclear attacks are still dominating news headlines. 'Average citizens are the primary victims of war, always,' Nagasaki survivor Takato Michishita told TIME. 'Dear young people who have never experienced the horrors of war – I fear that some of you may be taking this hard-earned peace for granted.' 'I had finished breakfast and was getting ready to go to the newspaper when it happened. There was a flash from the indoor wires as if lightning had struck. I didn't hear any sound. The world around me turned bright white. Immediately after that, the blast came.' Yoshito said: 'I was bare from the waist up, and the blast was so intense, it felt like hundreds of needles were stabbing me all at once. I pulled my camera and the clothes issued by the military headquarters out from under the mound of debris, and I got dressed.' He wandered towards the Miyuki bridge, where many victims, mostly junior high girls from nearby schools, had gathered after being told to evacuate buildings. Towards the end of the Second World War, the United States was desperate to end the conflict by whatever means necessary. Their solution was to drop two nuclear bombs, never before used in human history, on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Both cities were vital points for military and industrial reasons – striking them would bring Japan to its knees, Americans hoped, forcing it to surrender and end the war. The bombs did end the war, but their use has been questioned ever since. Was it necessary to kill that many people and use a weapon of mass destruction? He added: 'Having been directly exposed to the heat rays, they were covered with blisters, the size of balls, on their backs, their faces, their shoulders and their arms. The blisters were starting to burst open, and their skin hung down like rugs. Some of the children even have burns on the soles of their feet. They'd lost their shoes and run barefoot through the burning fire.' 70,000 were killed instantly in Hiroshima. By the end of the year, more than 150,000 deaths were recorded in total from radiation poisoning and injuries. Fujio Torikoshi was just over a mile away from the blast, eating breakfast with his mum, when he heard a plane. He wandered outside to look but saw nothing. He said: 'Bewildered, I glanced to the northeast. I saw a black dot in the sky. Suddenly, it 'burst' into a ball of blinding light that filled my surroundings. 'A gust of hot wind hit my face; I instantly closed my eyes and knelt down to the ground. As I tried to gain footing, another gust of wind lifted me up, and I hit something hard. I do not remember what happened after that. 'When I finally came to, I was passed out in front of a bouka suisou (stone water container used to extinguish fires back then). Suddenly, I felt an intense burning sensation on my face and arms, and tried to dunk my body into the bouka suisou. 'The water made it worse. I heard my mother's voice in the distance. 'Fujio! Fujio!' I clung to her desperately as she scooped me up in her arms. 'It burns, mama! It burns!' News of the horrific attack had spread through Japan, but it wasn't known just how bad the damage was. There had been no air raid alarms that morning, but Shigek Matsumoto, then 11, had been hiding in a local bomb shelter with her siblings for days. 'The sky turned bright white,' she recalled. She was knocked off her feet, unaware of what had happened until scores of burn victims came hobbling towards the shelter. 'Their skin had peeled off their bodies and faces and hung limply down on the ground, in ribbons. Their hair was burnt down to a few measly centimetres from the scalp,' she recalled. As soon as the first bomb detonated in Hiroshima, 70,000 died instantly. The death toll rose to 140,000 by the end of the year. In Nagasaki, 40,000 died instantly. Later, the toll rose to around 70,000 from those who died from injuries and radiation exposure. In total, the nuclear bombs killed an estimated 250,000 people and left thousands of others with long-term conditions. 'Many of the victims collapsed as soon as they reached the bomb shelter entrance, forming a massive pile of contorted bodies. The stench and heat were unbearable.' Survivor Kayano Nagai saw the atomic bomb in Nagasaki when she was just four years old. 'I remember the cicadas chirping. The atom bomb was the last thing that happened in the war, and no more bad things have happened since then, but I don't have my Mummy any more.' Nearly half of the city was destroyed. Nagasaki was, quite literally, a nuclear wasteland. Rescue and medical care were nearly impossible. Roughly 100,000 survivors of the atomic bombings are still alive today. 'It's more important than ever that we listen to the remaining survivors,' Florian Eblenkamp, advocacy officer with The International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN) told Metro. 'Their message is clear: these weapons must be abolished. If we want to honour their legacy, that's what we should focus on. We can't continue to gamble with the fate of humanity.' One of the forgotten details of the bombings in Japan is that of the thousands killed, 38,000 were children. Nuclear weapons and the threats they carry are seen by most as an abstract idea – a far-fetched, last-ditch option in conflict. Florian argues the most significant message to remember on the 80th anniversary is that these weapons are not abstract, deterrents or a political pawns. 'These are big bombs that kill for generations and whose effects are so widespread that they don't stop at national borders,' he said. Nuclear threats continue even now. This week, Russia issued a warning to the world after Trump deployed nuclear submarines in the region of Russia. After being told to 'watch his words' by Trump, former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev shocked many when he reminded the US of Russia's nuclear strike capabilities. 'Remember how dangerous the fabled 'Dead Hand' can be,' Medvedev wrote on Telegram, referencing Soviet-era Doomsday nuclear weapons. Other countries are continuing to build their nuclear arsenal and carry out test launches. Last year, North Korea carried out the country's longest ballistic missile test, with a flight time of 87 minutes, while warning its 'enemies' of attack. For the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the world stopped in August 1945. But the world is advancing its nuclear programmes, using the threat of these weapons of mass destruction as pawns in political games. More Trending Florian explained: 'We need to reject this idea that weapons of mass destruction are necessary for a country's defence. But look at the reality of the world: many of the countries that have nuclear weapons or are now involved in active conflict. 'Possessing nuclear weapons doesn't guarantee peace in your country. It's naive to think that you can just continue possessing nuclear weapons and nothing will happen.' Experts now say the risk of nuclear war is higher than ever, Florian says, and the world is now at a critical crossroads. 'We have to decide: is this a stable model for international geopolitics, or is it time to face the truth and reject these weapons as too dangerous to handle by anyone?' Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page. MORE: Chilling map shows what would happen if the Hiroshima bomb was dropped on London MORE: People say it's uncultured, but I love where I'm from – flaws and all MORE: When the world 'likely' ends you can blame these three people, expert says
Yahoo
04-08-2025
- General
- Yahoo
It's been 80 years since the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Time to raise some L.
The A Bomb Dome in Hiroshima stands in 2015. The dome, which was part of the city's industrial exhibition hall, was directly beneath the atomic bomb dropped Aug. 6, 1945. (Max McCoy/Kansas Reflector) It was such a peaceful morning that Yoshito Matsushige could scarcely believe it was wartime. Matsushige, a 32-year-old newspaper photographer who had been up most of the night before covering air raid warnings, woke from a brief nap at army headquarters in time to see the sun rise over Hiroshima. It was Monday, Aug. 6, 1945. Now we know Matsushige was witnessing the last sunrise of the age before humankind had developed a weapon powerful enough to annihilate itself — and had demonstrated a willingness to use it. There had been just one other explosion of a nuclear bomb, a test shot July 16 of a plutonium implosion weapon at the Trinity Site in southern New Mexico. The resulting fireball had fused the sand of the desert floor into a kind of glass later named Trinitite. On the morning of Monday, Aug. 6, another atomic bomb — a uranium gun-type device — was bound for Hiroshima. Wednesday marks the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, a grim milestone that has me pondering the nature of time, memory and hope. It's been slightly more than an average human lifetime since the bomb devastated Hiroshima, and those who are still around to recount the unthinkable are increasingly few. Once Hiroshima and Nagasaki fade from living memory, how will its warning be passed to future generations? At 8:15 a.m. on Aug. 6, an American B-29 named the Enola Gay, after the pilot's mother, released a 12-kiloton atomic bomb over the city. The aircraft was flying six miles up. The aim point was a T-shaped bridge in the center of the city. The bomb fell for 43 seconds and then detonated at 1,968 feet. What happened next took only milliseconds. The temperature on the ground reached 7,000 degrees Fahrenheit, vaporizing humans near the epicenter and leaving only their shadows behind. A 1,000-mph blast wave spread from the epicenter, destroying two-thirds of the city's homes and buildings and contributing to a massive firestorm. A dark mushroom cloud rose over Hiroshima, carrying deadly radioactive fallout. Matsushige had left army headquarters and returned to his home, about a mile and a half from the target bridge, where he was sitting shirtless in the August heat eating a meager breakfast of rice. 'There is an explosive called magnesium that is used for photographic (lighting) and everything went white as if that magnesium had been fired,' Matsushige told me through an interpreter in 1986, when I was a young reporter in Japan on a grant project to interview those who had experienced the bomb. 'It seemed the light was an electrical short, or spark. So I was about to stand up and try to switch off the light, … and then came the blast.' The force lifted Matsushige from his feet and slammed him into a far wall. He was covered in debris and broken glass, and his bare chest was bleeding, although he wasn't badly hurt. He and his wife ran outside and hid in a sweet potato field for 40 minutes in the dirty brown gloom of ash and dust. Then Matsushige put on his uniform, retrieved his Mamiya camera from the rubble of his home and two rolls of film, and set out for newspaper office in the heart of the city. Matsushige was a photojournalist but like most everyone else in Japan had also been pressed into military service. He worked for both the city newspaper and military headquarters, wearing a uniform with no rank insignia. Civilian photography was prohibited. When he was about a kilometer, or six-tenths of a mile, from the center of the city, he had to turn back because the fire was too intense. He made his way to the Miyuki Bridge. The bridge was a landmark in a city known for its bridges and river, but this morning it was swarmed by thousands of wounded and dying civilians. In 1986, I stood with Matsushige on the Miyuki Bridge and he told me what he had seen 41 years earlier. It was one of the last times the photographer, then in his early 70s, would visit the bridge, which was closed and about to be demolished to make way for a new structure. My interview with Matsushige originally appeared in my newspaper, the Pittsburg (Kansas) Morning Sun, which had sponsored my application for the Akiba Project travel grant to interview the aging hibakusha, a Japanese term translated as those who had received or been exposed to the bomb. In 2021 I wrote about my memories of that assignment for the Reflector. Matsushige told me in 1986 that he had yet to take a single photograph on his grim trek into the city but here, at the bridge, he readied his Mamiya. Many of those on the bridge were junior high school students. Unlike elementary school children, most of whom had been evacuated to relatives and others in the hills around the city, the junior high students had been kept in the city to clear fire lines or to work in the ammunition factories. The victims on the bridge looked as if their clothes were hanging from their bodies, but they weren't trailing fabric, it was tattered pieces of their own skin. 'I thought that I would take a photo of (the scene on the bridge), so I checked the camera in my hands,' Matsushige said. 'When I saw this tragic scene, I was unable to push the shutter button. Among these people, there was a person holding a child. She was crying the name of the baby, and the baby probably was dead. The mother was saying, 'Please open your eyes, please open your eyes.'' It took Matsushige more than a quarter of an hour to make a photo. 'I felt as if the eyes of these people were piercing me,' he said. 'These people had black faces because of the burns. It was such cruelty. I couldn't stop my tears as I tried to take that second picture, and I remember that the viewfinder of my camera was blurred because of the tears.' He returned home but set out again that afternoon. He attempted to go to the newspaper office again but found it ablaze. He passed Hiroshima University, where he saw corpses at the bottom of a swimming pool that had been nearly emptied by the heat. The deeper he went into the city, the greater the destruction. 'People were under collapsed buildings and utility poles and were buried alive,' he said. 'Among (the corpses) there were some mothers with children. I was totally numb. I didn't feel anything, didn't feel any heat or pain.' He found a streetcar filled with corpses. 'All their clothes were burnt off,' he said. 'I thought about taking a picture, I put my hands on my camera at one time, but since all these dead people were naked, I felt (ashamed) to take such a photo.' Hours later he found himself back at the Miyuki Bridge, where he took a photograph of an injured policeman writing out relief certificates for food rations. The photo of the policeman was the last Matsushige would take that day. He had carried enough film for 24 exposures but ended up making only five. Two of the photos were at his home, two on the bridge, and one at an intersection near the bridge. Matsushige took some of the hardtack biscuits next to the policeman's station for his and his wife's dinner. After it was dark, he developed the film in trays in the kitchen sink and washed the negatives in a nearby creek. He hung the strip of film in a tree to dry. The photos weren't published in the Hiroshima newspaper until the next year. They didn't appear in the United States until Life magazine published them in 1952. The death toll at Hiroshima was horrific. Estimates vary widely, but at least 70,000 died from the bombing. Three days later, on Aug. 9, a plutonium bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, killing another 40,000. These are conservative estimates, however, and the actual number might be double for each city. When I went to Japan to interview Matsushige and the other hibakusha in 1986, it was the height of the Cold War. There were 70,374 nuclear warheads deployed or in stockpiles around the world, according the Federation of American Scientists, an all-time high. Of those, all but a few thousand belonged to the United States and the Soviet Union. The Doomsday Clock, the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientist's graphic representation of how close we were to nuclear annihilation, was at six minutes to midnight. Now the Doomsday Clock is at 89 seconds. There are fewer nuclear weapons — about 12,000, according to the FAS — but there are hot wars around the world, tensions are high, and the Doomsday Clock now takes into account other existential risks. 'We now move the Doomsday Clock from 90 seconds to 89 seconds to midnight — the closest it has ever been to catastrophe,' the Bulletin said in a January 2025 statement. 'Our fervent hope is that leaders will recognize the threats posed by nuclear weapons, climate change, and the potential misuse of biological science and a variety of emerging technologies.' The Bulletin cited emerging and re-emerging disease and the military use of artificial intelligence as concerning. It also said threat of nuclear war had been exacerbated by various conflicts. 'The war in Ukraine, now in its third year, looms over the world,' it said. 'The conflict could become nuclear at any moment because of a rash decision or through accident or miscalculation. Conflict in the Middle East threatens to spiral out of control in a wider war without warning.' The 10 or so countries that possess nuclear weapons are increasing the size and the role of their arsenals, the Bulletin said, and the nuclear arms control treaty process is collapsing. We seem hellbent on our own destruction. In my hand is a relic of the birth of the nuclear age, a bit of Trinitite that my wife, Kim, bought at a rock shop in New Mexico near Alamogordo. Yes, it's legal to possess because it was gathered from the site decades ago, and no, it's no longer dangerously radioactive. Why did she want it? Because she gathers information of all kinds — books, objects, experiences — that will help her understand the beauty and darkness of the world. The Trinitite sample cost a few bucks and is only mildly radioactive. It's about the size of a peanut, is greenish black, and weighs about the same as the albatross in the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. Trinitite is among the artifacts that were to be included in the Library of the Great Silence, a catalog of objects representing transitions and periods of existential threat. The project was part of the SETI Institute, a nonprofit dedicated to the search for intelligent life beyond earth. The library is a response, in part, to the Fermi Paradox. Posed by physicist Enrico Fermi, the paradox asks why, given how vast and old the universe is, we haven't found evidence of other communicative technological civilizations? I won't bore you with the math behind the Drake Equation, which seeks to estimate how many intelligent worlds there might be out there, except to cite the most important variable, L. That stands for the average lifespan of technological civilizations. One explanation for the great silence is that civilizations have a tendency to destroy themselves. Nobody knows what L might be, because we have a lack of observable data, but our current estimate is at least 80 years. If we are not to fall into the great silence, we must learn to do a better job of passing on the lessons of the past. Part of that is honoring the testimony of those who have gone before, such as Yoshito Matsushige. Matsushige died in 2005, at the age of 92, but his words and his pictures live on. They were given to me in 1986, and now I share them with you. The time the bomb detonated will be observed with a moment of silence at 8:15 a.m. Wednesday in Hiroshima. That's 6:15 p.m. Tuesday for most of Kansas, because of the 14-hour time difference. Honoring the dead is proper. But too many of us who yearn for peace content ourselves with prayer and visualization. This may be mentally healthy and personally satisfying, but it's not enough to turn policy or change minds. The pursuit of peace is an active one, requiring a knowledge of the past combined with a willingness to engage the future. It's 89 seconds to midnight. Let's raise some L. Max McCoy is an award-winning author and journalist. Through its opinion section, the Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.
