Thursday February 9th, 1989
Posted: Fri Feb 08, 2013 3:47 pm
I was in my 3rd year of my first tour in Japan, based with VA-115 out of Naval Air Facility Atsugi in Sagami Prefecture. I was taking two work days off for leave and planned a 4-day trip around the Tokyo area.
A week before, Emperor Hirohito had passed away after a long illness with cancer and we in the military were ordered to "tread lightly" in talking about his majesty, given the sensitive history attached to him. After all, Hirohito had presided over Japan's rise as a military power in the early 20th century, presided over the catastrophy that was World War II and lived to see his nation reborn as an economic powerhouse.
Hirohito had lived a long tumult of a life but he had lived a full life so the expectation of his passing resulted in very few displays of grief from the people I encountered in my walk abouts the past week. No tearful displays, no somber emotional expressions.
The morning of the 9th, I had taken the train to Yamato City to where I normally changed my dollars to yen, I got better rates at the Hotel Yamato than on Atusgi base so as usual I walked into the front lobby.
Immediatly to the left as you walked into the hotel, there's a small reception lounge with coffee tables, sofa and so forth. It was 9am and the small space was packed with Japanese, men in business suits, women and some children. I noted a few of them were wiping their eyes, a few were sobbing.
Obviously something had happened of local significance. I walked up to the counter and pointed to the lounge as I started talking to Nakaoka, the man who normally handled Yen transactions at that time. "Something serious Nanao?" I asked.
"Yes." He replied. "Astro boy's artist has died."
I walked up to where the television was and looked past the gathered people to see the NHK announcers sitting with a black drape picture of Tezuka between them and changing pictures of his characters behind him.
And these people...real tears, real emotions...I was under preconcieved notions that Japanese never showed emotion in public but Tezuka, unlike the Emperor, was still rather young by their culture, still had plenty of life to give and he had died so sudden, so abrupt and it was of course made so because the illness he had suffered for two years was kept private. Even in his last month, his work-a-holic nature hadn't slowed a beat.
Here was a exceptional moment of contrast, when you look at how Hirohito's death and funeral was treated vice Tezuka's, it truely brought forth the phrase...And the lesser shall be greater and the great brought lesser. Tezuka's mark on post war Japan affected everything from the country's national education system to its prestige on the international stage to the popularity of Anime in America. To a generation of Japanese children who survived a horrific war and lived in squallar till the early 1950's, Tezuka's form of theatrical Manga helped to ease the transition and influence a wave of tallent in animation from all parts of the world.
He truely was a great man who needed no great title to accent the good and wonderful heart he had.
A week before, Emperor Hirohito had passed away after a long illness with cancer and we in the military were ordered to "tread lightly" in talking about his majesty, given the sensitive history attached to him. After all, Hirohito had presided over Japan's rise as a military power in the early 20th century, presided over the catastrophy that was World War II and lived to see his nation reborn as an economic powerhouse.
Hirohito had lived a long tumult of a life but he had lived a full life so the expectation of his passing resulted in very few displays of grief from the people I encountered in my walk abouts the past week. No tearful displays, no somber emotional expressions.
The morning of the 9th, I had taken the train to Yamato City to where I normally changed my dollars to yen, I got better rates at the Hotel Yamato than on Atusgi base so as usual I walked into the front lobby.
Immediatly to the left as you walked into the hotel, there's a small reception lounge with coffee tables, sofa and so forth. It was 9am and the small space was packed with Japanese, men in business suits, women and some children. I noted a few of them were wiping their eyes, a few were sobbing.
Obviously something had happened of local significance. I walked up to the counter and pointed to the lounge as I started talking to Nakaoka, the man who normally handled Yen transactions at that time. "Something serious Nanao?" I asked.
"Yes." He replied. "Astro boy's artist has died."
I walked up to where the television was and looked past the gathered people to see the NHK announcers sitting with a black drape picture of Tezuka between them and changing pictures of his characters behind him.
And these people...real tears, real emotions...I was under preconcieved notions that Japanese never showed emotion in public but Tezuka, unlike the Emperor, was still rather young by their culture, still had plenty of life to give and he had died so sudden, so abrupt and it was of course made so because the illness he had suffered for two years was kept private. Even in his last month, his work-a-holic nature hadn't slowed a beat.
Here was a exceptional moment of contrast, when you look at how Hirohito's death and funeral was treated vice Tezuka's, it truely brought forth the phrase...And the lesser shall be greater and the great brought lesser. Tezuka's mark on post war Japan affected everything from the country's national education system to its prestige on the international stage to the popularity of Anime in America. To a generation of Japanese children who survived a horrific war and lived in squallar till the early 1950's, Tezuka's form of theatrical Manga helped to ease the transition and influence a wave of tallent in animation from all parts of the world.
He truely was a great man who needed no great title to accent the good and wonderful heart he had.
