Pernuaps he was a bit more apprehensive and anxious these days
than ne nad been in tue past, not only because he was 32 years old-rather young by HMicronesian standards to carry the responsibility of
nagistrate--but also vecause he had been told a disturbing thing by
tue uawaiian field trip officer on the most recent field trip ship.
tne officer, indicating the last segment of his finger with his thumb,
nad told Jonn that,"Your life line is about that long.""
hin
John asked
why if they knew there was some kind of danger to the people--they
were not removed from tne island.
orders.’’
The officer replied,
"We have no
But it was unlikely that at this time on this morning John
consciously remembered the remark, as he would recall it later.
every day, there were many things to do.
As on
besides, it was hard to
conceive of a threat to anyone's safety unless it would be from a natural
disaster like a typhoon and the weather signs indicated no such pending
phenomenon.
A sense of calmness and peace must have pervaded the Island
of Utirik many miles to the east, yet they, too, soon would share a
cowmon, unfortunate bond with their neighbors to the west.
It was, in
fact, hard to imagine anything threatening on that tranquil morning in
tne Pacific.
Rongelap was home.
Rongelap was security.
Rongelap, as a
traditional part of the Kalik or western chain, was stability.
The sun
always rose on the ''Ratak" or eastern chain of islands which included
Utirik Atoll, and set in the "Ralik" or western chain where Rongelap
lay.
‘That morning, however,
the sun would first rise in the west.
Some 30 miles east of Rongelap on that morning, twenty-tiree white
and five black U.S. servicemen stirred uneasily in their RadSafe aluminum
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