Three-year-old Shinichi Tetsutani was riding his beloved yellow tricycle when the atom bomb exploded over Hiroshima. He died that night from his injuries. His heartbroken father, Nobuo, buried Shinichi’s body in the backyard, along with the tricycle, so that he could ride it even after his death.
You can still see the skeletal form of that tricycle today, preserved now in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, after Nobuo decided to place Shinichi’s remains in the family grave. It is just one of many haunting reminders of the day that normal life came to an instantaneous halt – incinerated, devastated – 80 years ago this week. I visited this week while attending the commemorations in my role as vice-president of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND).
