At 2:46 p.m. every year on March 11, a siren echoes across the northeastern Japan region that suffered immense damage in the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. While the sound is meant to honor those who lost their lives, for some, it rekindles the anguish and misery of the catastrophe that affected Japan. The familiar mournful wail, which was heard during the chaos of that fateful day of Japan triggers a deluge of recollections, forcing many to confront the emotional trauma they endured.
Some places in Japan have chosen not to broadcast the siren out of respect, but more than 80% of the coastal municipalities in the three afflicted prefectures want to do so once more this year.
In an effort to remember their loved ones, victims and family members of the deceased are speaking out about the gesture, many of whom find the sound to be quite unnerving. Some have begun pressuring local authorities to speak in a calming voice that is not as closely related to 3/1 instead.
“That siren is like a countdown to death,” said Yumiko Suzuki, 53, from Ishinomaki, Miyagi Prefecture, whose sixth-grade son Hidekazu died in the accident.
At the time of the earthquake, the 12-year-old was in class. The youngsters must have feared the tsunami alarm, in her opinion. Suzuki offers prayers in a temple on the anniversary of the accident because she finds it too hard to recall the site of her son’s death.
The city sounds the siren on the same outdoor loudspeakers used during the disaster. If the people who died can hear that sound, says, Suzuki, “I doubt they feel at peace.”
Kyoko Aoki, 64, who lost her eldest son Kenji, then a 31-year-old police officer in the city, also does her best to block out the sound. “Our feelings are the same after more than a decade. I hate feeling the difference in mood between us and other people (not affected by the disaster),” Aoki said.
A woman in her 50s who lost a family member in Higashimatsushima, Miyagi Prefecture, says she “tenses up” before the alarm rings. A friend of hers, in the same situation, will run to the restroom at work and scream to get through it. The sound is so anxiety-inducing for others that they try to cover their ears.
Last summer, Suzuki and Aoki consulted with Ishinomaki officials to see if the sound might be changed. In response to a Kyodo News interview, the city said “it partially understands,” but the siren is also “meant to raise awareness about disaster prevention and mitigation.”
It argues that because some residents think of the siren as a means of “bracing oneself,” it would be difficult to change it under the current circumstances.
According to a Kyodo News,Japan,a tally conducted through Feb. 20, at least 32 of the 37 coastal cities, towns and villages in Iwate, Miyagi and Fukushima prefectures plan to broadcast the siren through their disaster prevention radio systems to mark the time of the earthquake.
On the other hand, Sendai, Miyagi’s prefectural capital, out of consideration for traumatized residents, has not sounded the alarm, including in the year following the disaster. “I hope people can mourn in their own way,” said a Sendai official.
Tagajo, a city also in Miyagi, considered the possibility of using gongs or announcements in response to requests from residents to forgo the siren last year but decided against making the change in line with neighboring municipalities.
Suzuki, for her part, has not abandoned hope for a sound more suitable for those who died on March 11.
“If it is for disaster prevention, a day meant for drills should be fine. On March 11, we should think of those who died and remember their smiles,” she said.