Dunrovin woke this Christmas morning to a quiet world blanketed with fresh snow.The total stillness left all the trees and bushes dressed in winter’s white lace. Grey skies highlighted a black and white world, then slowly cleared to reveal the sun and bring winter’s colors back to life. Christmas 2014 was simply beautiful and peaceful – exactly as it should be.

 

 

 

 

Merry Christmas

Surviving

Written by Danielle Lattuga

The simple act of running one’s fingers through one’s hair rarely prompts a person to reflect on their purpose in life. It’s not about being an insensitive person, but more about the relatively unconscious acts that accompany us, as we tackle seemingly “larger” and more challenging tasks. Even if we are new to horseback riding, we are less likely to think about how a reign feels in our fingers and more about how we are going to stay on the horse. But, we notice the blue sky and that beauty is reflected in the expression of our faces when we comment on it to our friends, co-workers, or even strangers.

Shigeko Sasamori was 13 years old when she went to work as a student cleaning and “fire-scaping” the streets in Hiroshima City, Japan. She remembers the beautiful blue sky, on her first morning, and the shining silver plane flying overhead. Then there were “white things coming down” and a tremendous pressure that knocked her to the ground.

She came to, in pitch black and silence, “It was just like a dead city,” she has said.

She’d survived the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, by the sheer luck of the draw. Her mother had given her a new pair of pants to wear for work, and she was wearing them under her old pair, to protect them. The pants ended up protecting her, by providing enough layers to prevent her legs from being severely burned by the heat ray of the bomb. All around her, there were people with no clothing, just skin hanging off, and their hair had been burned to ash.

“I’ve never been to hell, but if there is a hell, (it is) probably like that.”

Slowly, her senses returned to her, and she heard a baby crying, and felt pain and euphoria, intermittently, as her body went through the shock. For five days in the searing hot summer of Japan, she survived with no food and water, speaking her name and address over and over, and asking for  water, whenever someone was near. Finally, someone heard her, went to the vicinity of her home, and helped to reunite her with her parents. They repeatedly rubbed her burned body with cooking oil, and she survived.

Ten years later, she was chosen as one of 25 “Hiroshima Maidens,” who were brought to the United States for reconstructive surgery. Because her legs had not been burned, she had healthy skin to use for skin grafts on her upper body and face.

Shigeko does not show expression in her face the way most people do, and her hands were damaged enough that she has limited mobility in her fingers. Yet, she is able to convey the power of singular moments with great emotion and clarity. She describes the world on very sensual terms and in a vivacious manner, even when she is narrating the tragedy that defined so much of her life and that of others around her.

Shigeko Sasamori visited Montana in August of 2008. She was part of a group of atomic bomb survivors touring the United States with Steven Leeper, the first non-Japanese head of the Hiroshima Peace Culture Foundation. The foundation administers a museum that explains the consequences and horrors of atomic and nuclear weapons. Leeper also lobbies for an international ban on all nukes called the Hiroshima-Hiroshima Protocol. Sasamori serves as the C.E.O. of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki Peace Projects, L.L.C. She gave a talk to a capacity crowd at the University of Montana Student Center.

Then, she went for a horseback ride. Leeper and his wife Elizabeth were staying with his brother and sister-in-law, Sterling and SuzAnne Miller, during the group’s visit to Missoula. When Shigeko got wind of the fact that they were staying at Dunrovin Equestrian Ranch, she told Steve that she had always wanted to ride a horse. She was 78 at the time.

Miller willingly saddled up her pony, Cool Dude, because his size and demeanor would best suit an elderly petite woman, who wouldn’t be able to grasp the reigns very well. Then she gently walked the pony around the ring. Shigeko’s eyes smiled with a brilliance that Miller remembers vividly.

After several trips around the arena, Sasamori exclaimed, “Faster, I want to go faster!”

Miller began to run, with Cool Dude and Shigeko in tow, but still, it wasn’t fast enough. Sasamori repeated herself, “Faster, I want to go faster!”

Miller told her, “My legs can’t keep up. You will have to ride on your own.”

“After a few short instructions, I twined the reins through her deformed hands, and told her to give him a gentle kick. Off she went at a trot, then a soft canter. She was in heaven. We had to pry her off the horse, because we were going to be late for a dinner engagement with city dignitaries. She dismounted and when I showed her our garden, she said to me, “I love to cook vegetables. I am a good Japanese cook. I come cook for you and ride horses.””

Miller was moved by Sasamori’s spiritedness, “I could not help but think about what those eyes had seen in her remarkable life and how she chose to find joy and happiness in life, in spite of all that she had been through. Her experiences did not harden her to the world – but seemed to make everything sweeter for her.”

Sasamori continues to work towards a world free of atomic threats. SuzAnne Miller continues to bring horses into the lives of those who need it most. And perhaps there is one more person in the world, who savors the feeling of soft hair between their fingers and blue sky overhead, with grander passion and greater intent.