I remember arguing with my grandmother about nuclear weapons when I was in grade school. I thought then, and have never thought otherwise, that dropping an atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was morally wrong and never should have happened. My grandmother thought atomic bombs were the appropriate way to end the war. It was the only time she agreed with a decision by a democrat. The only time she criticized a republican was when Bush went to Hirohito’s funeral.
Mine was the first generation to grow up with the terror of nuclear war. Even as little kids, we knew about skeletons on fire and melting flesh. I had nightmares about being where a hydrogen bomb was dropped. Our fears weren’t groundless. We had useless air raid drills twice a year in school. I’ve never figured out how leaning my face against my locker and putting an arm behind my head would protect me from radiation poisoning and the school being reduced to rubble.
I grew up watching dead, burnt bodies in Vietnam on the evening news. We ate dinner while watching the news. I saw a naked child running down the street after she had been burned by napalm. I saw a Vietnamese man get his brains blown out of his head. Every time Lyndon Johnson came on TV, I told myself, “this time he will say it’s over.” He didn’t. He always came to us with a heavy heart. I was in high school when LBJ decided not to run for reelection. There was an announcement over the PA telling us he wasn’t running. That’s how much against the war people – even conservative people – were.
After my clock radio alarm woke me up on May 5, 1970, I listened to the news about how the Ohio National Guard opened fire on unarmed students and murdered four people. I felt cold terror in my bowels. Ten years later, I was in college during Commuter Daze – a time to blow off steam before final exams – and saw the sheet hanging from the second floor of the student union. “My God, my God, they are killing us.” I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. I was halfway through eating a hot dog. Being seven years older than my classmates, what they learned about was what I experienced. I remember hearing someone say the message was about “some kids got killed.”
Yesterday, February 24, 2022, I had a court appearance via zoom. This was a worker’s comp case and we had already worked out a settlement. All that needed to be done was the judge to ask my client if my client understood the terms and to approve the settlement agreement. Purely a formality. I’m comfortable in court. I love hearings and trials. I spent the morning on edge and anxious. After a while, I realized it wasn’t a hearing that concerned me. I was anxious because Russia invaded Ukraine and had captured what had been contained radiation from Chernobyl after the reactor melted down. NATO is going to have to respond. The US is already sending troops to Eastern Europe. Russia is aligned with China and North Korea. All three countries have nuclear weapons capable of hitting the US and all three countries are run by madmen. We are sitting on the edge of a world war. This time, there will be no winners. There will only be radiation.
What terrified me as a child, terrifies me now.
Thank God the narcissistic sociopath lost the election.
Deb's Art 