LITTLE BOY
Thursday, August 6, 2020
Has my time come, is my time up?
We don’t know when that statement will become accurate, but most of us know and fear that will happen to us one day. We’ll come to the end of the line. We expect that will be the result of aging gracefully, or disease, or accident – but not some purposeful act of a villain.
Seventy-five years ago today, people of all ages were going about their business of daily lives in their city.
The bomb, code-named Little Boy, aboard the Enola Gay was dropped on their city, Hiroshima, Japan. Lives were incinerated or forever altered that day, and the world was altered. Canadians, Brits, and Americans had a hand in the technology and materials in that first atomic bomb. Today the few survivors and their descendants continue to wage their war, to have nuclear weapons banned from the earth. Still, leaders of the countries holding power and arms are unwilling to destroy their weapons that could destroy us all. One might think, as we’ve been brought to our knees as a civilization by a virus we can’t yet eradicate, the eradicating weapons of mass destruction ought to be a no-brainer decision.
I am but a citizen.
As I look skyward today, expecting sunshine and the sight of birds in flight and planes going about their passenger and freight hauling business – my time is not up, my time has not run out.
Our time, perhaps like no other time – is to remember the horror of seventy-five years ago, and put a stop to it.
Reader feedback:
Good job, Mark! 😊💜👌 Truer words were never written! Sad though, as once ‘locked in’ emotional distancing prevails, goodwill takes a hit! Not a state of being to be proud of, no matter how one justifies it in their own mind. I did this recently, fortunately one of the three of us brought forward a discussion with me, about it, that reduced my ill will and took away my reluctance to hang out again, SF, Lethbridge, AB
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