rivercrow

My parents were stationed in Okinawa in the early 60s. There were a few things that stuck in mom’s mind about the experience that ended up affecting me, even though I hadn’t been born.

When my family disembarked from the US Army ship that had carried them there from Hawaii, the very first thing they noticed was that most of the natives were wearing white face masks. Their immediate reaction was concern that there was an epidemic of some kind. The truth is that many people in Japan at the time wore face masks during the flu season as a precaution against disease.

The other major element were the Nagasaki and Hiroshima survivors. Most of the survivors wore white clothing. I believe the color white is a color of mourning in Japanese culture. Mom formed a negative impression of these white-clad individuals.

How did that come to affect me?

Many little girls–well, and teen-age girls–like to wear white. I was no different. I remember a summer day, white cotton skirt and blouse, and mom complaining that I looked like a Hiroshima victim.

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