Photographed on 6/22/2011
“ . . . . . . . . .” （Silence)
Continuing along a “road” made up of huge numbers of metal sheets spread out alongside the Kitakami River, we eventually reached a place where the bridge across the big river was down and we could go no further. The place was crowded with police, Self-Defense Force and fire department vehicles, and taxis carrying reporters. It turned out we were not far from the Ōkawa Elementary School, where so many children had perished that day. It was one of the places I returned to every time I visited Tōhoku to join my hands in prayer. For a while there were no restrictions in place and it was possible to enter the building. The school stands as if surrounded by the mountains and the embankment along the river. We could only imagine what had happened here that day. Normally we batted remarks back and forth all the time like a comedy duo, but in the face of this we had no words to say. I sensed a hint of anger on Kuyama’s face.
Written by Tetsuya Hirose
「･･･････････」
北上川の河川敷に大量の鉄板を敷き詰めただけの“道”を進めば、やがて大河に架かる橋は落ちて通行止めだった。だから多くの警察、自衛隊、消防、取材のタクシーがいるのだと思っていたがじつはその近く多くの子らが犠牲になった大川小学校だった。その後、東北を訪れるたびに手を合わせにいく場所のひとつとなったが、しばらくは規制もされずその中にも入れた。山と川の堤防に囲まれたような中に立つ小学校で何があのとき起きていたのかは想像するしなかなくて、普段は掛け合い漫才のようにテンポよく会話を交わす僕らも、そのときそこではほとんど何も言葉を交わすことはできなかった。そして久山の顔には少し怒りの影を感じた。
ライター / 廣瀬達也
shiromasa kuyama 