Thread | Brutkey

The stories we tell matter. I know this not from watching but from memory. I was just a child, held behind barbed wire in a U.S. internment camp, when an atomic bomb obliterated Hiroshima—killing members of my family. That horror etched itself into my life and forged my belief in the urgency of disarmament. I’ve heard this horror reflected over and over again in the stories of other hibakusha—survivors of these unimaginable attacks.

Cosmic Librarian
@cosmiclibrarian@universeodon.com

@georgetakei@universeodon.com

I used to babysit for a lady from Japan many years ago, who was also a friend of my mother... her name was Hideko, but everyone knew her as June. She told us once that she was supposed to go to Hiroshima for a field trip with classmates on that day. She ended up staying home due to illness. She lost all her friends and classmates.