62 years ago today, the United States dropped an atomic bomb on the city of Hiroshima. About 105,000 people were killed in Hiroshima or died from injuries and radiation afterwards. The woman pictured above was waiting for medical attention after the bomb nick-named "Fat Man" destroyed her city. The baby, too weak to suckle, died 10 days later.
I spent years afraid that I would get out of class, look southeast and see a mushroom cloud rising over Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. I used to spend hours pouring over maps and thinking about blast-radii and wind currents. I actually woke up one morning, in the grip of some mania I could not name, and said goodbye to everyone I knew, convinced that today, out of a clear blue sky, today the bombs would fall.
The fact that this failed to happen has not reduced my fear by much. We still live beneath the shadows of terrible wings. The world must destroy all nuclear weapons, though this may be a sad exemplar of Pandora's Box.
At least we should remember those who have already died as a result of these weapons, and pray to whatever Gods you please to save us from the flames.
