by David Baresch, Japan
‘Nuclear Exodus’ passes on personal experience of a historic earthquake that executed a tsunami that wracked a nuclear powerplant, in Japan, on March 11th 2011.
The powerplant stood on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. The tsunami thrashed the building, rooves exploded, and radioactive particles streamed into the sky.
‘Nuclear Exodus’ recalls scenes at Narita Airport as an exodus out of Japan took place amid meltdown.
The 10th anniversary of the nuclear disaster will be on March 11th 2021.
On airport floors the wearied sprawled, at check-in desks long queues formed, but flights were full, flights didn’t come, for the skies were alive with nuclear fall.
Tensions broke, some rudely spoke, “We must away! Why the delay?” Here saw panic, here saw fright, and a want for home, and a want for a flight.
And here the need to take a breath, a need to breathe without the fear of atomic particles drifting, near.
The hours passed, our fight was called, a queue formed and the queue crawled. We passed a screen, the news played, and there a scene of shock and scream.
Another explosion, radiation pouring, for a second roof had blown away, and a long dark plume fuelled the sky with nuclear might to maim all nearby.
This our farewell, this our goodbye, to a land on the brink with untold time, a land on the edge with hours unknown, and a land at war with nuclear power.
And 10-years on, and with every ache, and with every pain, there are those whose question is much the same, “is this the burn of atomic rain?”
And come that day, tomorrow’s day, and come that hour, the morrow’s hour, and come that shift, the Earth’s shift, and come that split, an atomic rift, will things be worse, will things be less, will things be much the same? Disaster, suffering, loss, and pain, was anything learnt? Has anything changed?