Last week I found myself on a tram in Hiroshima, heading to the stop "A-bomb dome". I was surrounded by Japanese passengers, and for the first time in Japan I felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. I am an American working at Los Alamos, the literal and figurative birthplace of the atomic bomb. Memories of my visit to Trinity Site are still fresh. The weight of history is unavoidable. As in a classic Bruegel painting, however, nobody seems to pay particular notice. Everyone moves forward with their lives. A few days after the bomb, they restored streetcar service to parts of the city. There is no evidence of that terrible instant. None, that is, until you get off the tram stop and confront the dome. You've seen images of it countless times. But standing in front of it, surrounded by the bustling city of Hiroshima, is an altogether different experience.
There is ...
