History goes on, and the past and the present are never separated. We need to realize it and pass what happened down to the next generation.

I started in 1968, when I was 23. I joined the Red Cross Hospital, wishing to help people who had mentally and financially suffered in their lives so that they could return to society.

In 1957, 12 years after the A-bombing, the Atomic Bomb Medical Relief Law was enacted, and the A-bomb Survivors Hospital opened, where people having an official certificate as hibakusha could receive treatment under the law. Then, in 1968, the A-bomb Survivors Special Measures Law was enacted, aiming to support survivors. It allowed them to receive compensation money. Under the law, people needed a certificate from a doctor to receive support. My first job was to check whether they were eligible for compensation money.

Yes. For about 20 years after the A-bombing, survivors died one after another, and many were struggling to start their lives again in Hiroshima. The closer to the hypocenter people were, the more severely they were affected by the blast, heat rays and radiation. Many of them had lost the foundation of their livelihoods and could not continue to work. In the situation where they were completely deprived of their livelihoods, their jobs and families, they expected a great deal from the A-bomb Survivors Special Measures Law. The hospital was crowded with people claiming compensation and support.

Mr. K, who suffered from hepatitis caused by alcohol dependence, was hospitalized in the A-bomb Survivors Hospital where I worked at that time. He had to go to the welfare office to get money, but he couldn’t go and came to me for some advice. I went there and received money for him, and he started to take counseling from me.

I met him when he was 42. He was A-bombed at the age of 13. He had keloids on his face and his left eye was an artificial one because of a malignant tumor. At first glance, we could see that he was badly injured by the A-bombing.
When I gave the money from the welfare office to him, he was very pleased that I went to the office for him. He said, “I am filled with an inferiority complex.” The day he received the money, he left the hospital without permission and went home. I was shocked, so I wrote a letter to him, wishing that he could bounce back from his tragic experiences.

Yes. One day, I asked him to talk about his experiences on August 6 to children on a school trip. He hesitated at first, so I went with him and helped him during his talk. He seemed to be encouraged by the letters he received from students who heard his story. He continued to talk about his experiences, listened to other survivors’ experiences and even visited some survivors who had problems.

I think that Mr. K realized what living as an A-bomb survivor meant to him.
He started to work, declined the welfare money and stopped drinking. Then, he got married. He had been disowned, but his parents and brothers noticed his changes and accepted him back.

He started to write his own history, in addition to talking about his experiences. I heard he had kept writing the details of his history in his bed until he died at 65.

I got a message from a lady in Tokyo who heard Mr. K’s story.
She wrote: “I thought it is human beings who bring other human beings to the bottom of misfortune, but it is also human beings who give them hope of living. Although he had a hard time after the A-bombing, he finally recovered and led a good life. That was because he was brought up with much affection from his parents and grandparents and supported by many good and considerate people.”