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Oregon Road Conditions & Cams Email Story to a Friend May 30, 2005 Hideko �Tammy� Snider, sitting at her Medford home with her husband, Robert, is a survivor of the atomic bomb that hit Hiroshima in 1945. She urges people on this Memorial Day to remember that life is a gift. Mail Tribune / Roy Musitelli THE COST OF WAR Medford’s Hideko Snider was 10 when the atomic bomb fell on her hometown of Hiroshima, Japan By PAUL FATTIG Mail Tribune Like most Americans, Hideko "Tammy" Snider will reflect on the memory of departed loved ones today. But the retired psychiatric social worker urges that people also remember the living. "People must always remember on Memorial Day that life is a tremendous gift," observed the Medford resident. "We honor death by living as fully as possible." At 70, the diminutive Snider is quick to smile and laugh about her gift of life. Yet she is all too familiar with death: She was a 10-year-old child in Hiroshima, Japan, when the first atomic bomb used in warfare was dropped, leaving a smoking cauldron of death and ruin. Advertisement An estimated 75,000 people died in Hiroshima on Aug. 6, 1945. Three days later another atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, killing another 75,000 instantly and bringing World War II to an end. Countless thousands more would die over the following years of radiation poisoning. For years, a debate has waged over whether dropping the bombs was necessary. Many American combat veterans who fought in the horrific South Pacific island campaign have argued adamantly that without the bombs the war would have dragged on, resulting in even more bloodshed. But others have insisted the Japanese forces were already on the ropes. Snider, one of about 900 atomic bomb survivors living in the United States out of the 285,600 alive today, isn’t interested in fighting that battle. "Who knows because you can’t bring back that reality 60 years ago and test it out," she said. "It could have gone either way. "It’s a very noble thing to give your life for your country," she added later. "Yet, if you go to war, you are defying what has always been taught to us that you don’t kill. We are, to our dying breath, going to be human beings with all our mortal wishes and conflicts." But the author of "One Sunny Day," a book recounting the day the atomic bomb was dropped, hopes Hiroshima and Nagasaki will serve as a reminder of the cost of war. "For many young people, even in Japan, this is a story they don’t know," she said, then added, "We cannot let subsequent generations ever forget what war is about." Before moving to Medford several years ago, she worked for years at the University of Chicago Hospital. It was at the university while still students that she met her husband, Robert, a retired university political science professor and legal consultant. She was working at the hospital on Sept. 11, 2001, when terrorists struck New York and Washington, D.C. "It was a beautiful, sunny, blue-sky day," she said. "I was sickened by what happened that day." It reminded her of another beautiful day 60 years ago when the world was at war. Her family was living on her late grandfather’s estate a little over a mile from downtown Hiroshima. She was an only child who had been sent to an academy some 100 miles away early in April of that year along with other students up to the sixth grade. They were sent to the remote school to be out of harm’s way. "It was a very harsh life at the school," she recalled. "Food was scarce. We were constantly hungry." The youngsters were made to dig pine tree roots to help with the effort to obtain oil. By Aug. 4, she had persuaded her parents to take her home. They picked her up and arrived back in Hiroshima on the eve of Aug. 6. "The next morning I was on top of my index of happiness," she said. "I was back with my parents. We had a beautiful garden." Overhead the morning sky was a peaceful blue. Her father, who had been drafted into the Japanese Army, had gone to work as an officer attached to a transportation unit at the Hiroshima harbor several miles from downtown. Her mother was downtown with numerous other parents to help watch over some 3,000 middle school students gathered to help on a construction project. Her cousin, 12, who had just passed the entrance exam to be accepted in a prestigious school in Hiroshima, was one of those students. "He was like my older brother," she said, noting his family lived at the estate with her family. Her peaceful morning erupted with an intense flash of light, followed by a tremendous deafening roar and darkness as she was covered with debris by the collapsing house. "It is not the kind of thing I like to think about," she said. "I remember this huge boulder of radiation, like a water fall, hitting the garden." The little girl would emerge from the rubble to find her world destroyed. "My mother never came home again," she said very softly. "And my cousin, who was like my brother, never came home again." She stopped talking for a moment. "People say you have a funeral and burial because you have to say goodbye," she said. "We didn’t have that. Even those we found, it was so difficult dying for them." People near the epicenter of the blast literally vanished, she said. "But many at the center half-melted," she said. "It was like they were going around in rags except it was their skin hanging there. "Burn victims just don’t die instantly," she added. There were no medical supplies and few medical staff to administer aid. Food, already scarce in the city, was nearly impossible to find. "People were dropping on the streets," she said. "So many people died." Snider, who nearly succumbed to radiation poisoning, would survive. "As a teenager I was once at a point where there was no point to live," she said. "But I met people who showed me there was a reason for hope." After attending a university in Hiroshima for a year, she transferred to the University of Chicago. Snider, a member of Medford’s multicultural committee, observes the atomic bomb was conceived and created by the brightest minds in the world. "Today, I would like to believe there are people who think about the consequences of the use of this," she said. "Not from the standpoint of computers and video games," she added. "But from the standpoint of moral decisions. What I remember was a horrific loss of life, not just that day, but for weeks, months and years afterwards." Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or e-mail him at [email protected] . Peace Choir wants to go to Hiroshima Hideko Snider is a member of the Rogue Valley Peace Choir, which plans to sing at the Peace Park in Hiroshima in August 2006. Donations to support the trip can be sent to the Rogue Valley Peace Choir, P.O. Box 825, Ashland, OR 97520. Mail Tribune Home | Local News | Sports | Business | Obituaries | Life | Opinion AP News | Archives | Site Map | Community | Classified Copyright © 1997-2005 Mail Tribune, Inc. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions | Website Feedback www.bingo.com Home Security Systems Trunks, Footlocker dvd-r Distance Education Computer Security Ztech Media Hosting Sports Equipment Online Casino Reviews Student Loans tcg student loan consolidation Online Pharmacy online casino Myspace Home Equity Loans Windermere Van Vleet Rogue Valley Travel Reservationstogo Hotel Reservations Southern Oregon Loans Online Casino News Natto Kinase Nattokinase Casino Gambling Sites Budget Website Templates Investments & Loans Advertisement s