Peace Crane

Question: What Japanese art form did a young girl repeat a thousand times over in hopes of saving her life?

Answer: Origami

On August 6, 1945, two-year-old Sadako Sasaki was at home with her mother, grandmother, and brother. Her father wasn’t there, as he had been drafted into the Japanese Imperial Army shortly after Sadako was born.

As dawn broke in Hiroshima that day, radar detected an aircraft approaching the city, triggering an air-raid alert—but when the plane turned around, the "all clear" was sounded. Its mission completed, the plane—which was a U.S. weather surveillance aircraft—sent a short message to the crew of the Enola Gay, a B-29 Superfortress that had taken off from the Pacific island of Tinian several hours earlier. "Weather good," it read, "possible to drop bomb."

Up until that point, the city of Hiroshima had been spared the conventional bombing that had devastated cities like Tokyo and Osaka. Aware that the war wasn’t going well, the residents prepared for another day of work. Children headed off to school. The elderly were getting ready for factory jobs to help with Japan’s faltering war effort.

As the Enola Gay, piloted by Colonel Paul Tibbets, approached the target, it climbed to an altitude of 31,000 feet. Then, at 8:15 a.m. local time, it released its payload—a 9,700-pound uranium bomb nicknamed "Little Boy"—over the city. Forty-three seconds later, Little Boy detonated 1,900 feet above Hiroshima, creating a blinding white flash followed by a deafening boom. Almost 12 miles away from Hiroshima by then, the Enola Gay was wildly buffeted by a shock wave. Looking back, a crew member had just two words: "My God!"

The bomb exploded directly above a T-shaped bridge at the junction of the Honkawa and Motoyasu rivers. Up to 80,000 people were killed almost immediately from the blast and ensuing firestorm—but the toll would rise considerably by the end of the year. Nine out of ten people living within a half mile of ground zero were killed instantly and nearly every structure within one mile of the blast was destroyed.

Sadako Sasaki’s home was located one mile from ground zero. The family was sitting down for breakfast when Little Boy detonated. Her mother and brother survived the blast, but her grandmother and most of her neighbors did not. Sadako was blown out of the window by the blast wave—but suffered no apparent injuries. Her mother took her children and fled to nearby Misasa Bridge to escape the flames that were engulfing the neighborhood. When they arrived, "black rain"—a poisonous combination of radioactive ash and dust—began falling from the sky. Three days later, a second bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Less than a week after that Japan surrendered, and World War II was over.

Sadako’s father reunited with his family shortly after the war. With the family home burned to the ground, the Sasakis began the slow process of rebuilding their lives. Sadako soon began elementary school, where she turned out to be a gifted athlete and had dreams of becoming a Physical Education teacher one day. She remained in excellent health until the end of 1954, when the popular eleven-year-old girl started feeling dizzy and weak. After developing lumps on her neck, Sadako was diagnosed with leukemia—referred to as "A-bomb disease" by bomb survivors—and given less than a year to live.

Sadako would spend the next eight months in Hiroshima’s Red Cross hospital. She remained in good spirits throughout her illness. Worried that her parents and friends getting too upset, she kept her pain well hidden. One day, Sadako asked her father, Shigeo, why paper cranes were left in the rooms of all the sick children in the hospital. He reminded her about the ancient Japanese legend of the crane—how it can live for a thousand years, and a person who folds an origami crane for each year of a crane’s life will have their wish come true. "When you fold 1,000 cranes," he said to her, "you will get well." Using paper from get-well gifts and wrappings from medicine, Sadako started folding the intricate paper birds from her hospital bed in the hopes of getting better.

It wasn’t long before Sadako’s room was filled with hundreds of colorful origami cranes. Although one version of Sadako’s story says she fell short of her goal, her family knows the truth—that she indeed folded a thousand paper cranes and made her wish to get well again. But she knew how sick she was. Weaker each day, she continued to fold orizuru (paper cranes), with a new wish that her father’s debt be forgiven. "Please treasure the life that is given to you," Sadako said shortly before her death, "It is my belief that my small paper crane will enable you to understand other people's feelings, as if they are your own."

On October 25, 1955, she died surrounded by family in her room at the Hiroshima Red Cross Hospital—along with 1,300 origami cranes that hung from the ceiling.

At her funeral, Sadako’s friends and classmates decided something must be done to honor her memory—and the memory of all the other children whose lives were cut short by the atomic bomb. Their efforts sparked a fundraising campaign that swept through Japan and on May 5, 1958, the Children’s Peace Monument was unveiled in Hiroshima’s Peace Memorial Park. Standing atop the 30-foot-tall three-legged pedestal is a statue of Sadako with outstretched arms holding a golden crane high over her head. A plaque at the foot of her statue reads: "This is our cry. This is our prayer. Bring peace to the world."

The subject of books, poems, songs, and even a musical play, Sadako’s story continues to inspire people from around the world, and her paper cranes have become international symbols of peace—especially for anti-nuclear activists. You could say the story of Sadako Sasaki and her paper cranes is still unfolding.

A Few Things You May Not Know About Sadako Sasaki:

• You can see some of Sadako’s original paper cranes: The Sasaki family has donated several of Sadako’s original paper cranes to sites around the world, including the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, the Japanese American National Museum, and the Harry S Truman Library and Museum. You may have to squint, though—one of the delicate cranes is smaller than a fingernail.


• The surprising relationship between Sadako’s cranes and 9/11: Sadako’s surviving brother, Masahiro, donated one of Sadako’s last origami cranes to the Tribute WTC Visitor Center. It is the centerpiece of a display that is surrounded by 10,000 additional paper cranes from the families and colleagues of 24 Japanese who were killed in the 9/11 terrorist attacks—most of whom worked for Fuji Bank in the South Tower of the World Trade Center.


• 9/11 families return the favor when new disaster strikes Japan: Tragedy struck Japan again in 2012, when a massive earthquake created a tsunami that caused a core meltdown at Fukushima Dai Ichi Nuclear Power Plant. As a symbol of hope and resilience in the face of disaster, the 9/11 family association donated a large "paper" crane welded out of steel from the World Trade Center debris to the people of Japan.


• There are dozens of books about Sadako Sasaki—they’re just not in English: Most books recounting the brief life and inspirational legacy of Sadako Sasaki are only available in Japanese. The first book to tell her story in English is The Complete Story of Sadako Sasaki, co-written by Sadako’s older brother, Masahiro, and Sue DiCicco, founder of The Peace Crane Project.


• They’re not children anymore, but they’re still dying: Even now, the Red Cross hospital in Hiroshima where Sadako Sasaki stayed the last eight months of her life treats an average of 180 hibakusha—atom bomb survivors—each day.


• Even more (rather esoteric) connections to Sadako: The Russian poet Rasul Gamzatov wrote an epic poem—later adapted into a popular Russian song—called Zhuravli (The Cranes) in honor of Sadako. The song Thousand Cranes by the jazz-fusion band Hiroshima was inspired by Sadako’s story. And lastly, 1000 Cranes Business Consulting named their company after the story of Sadako Sasaki.

You can leave a paper crane beneath Sadako Sasaki’s statue at the Children’s Peace Monument in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park during our optional pre-trip extension to Japan’s Cultural Treasures.