Scars linger from nuclear accident 10 years later, couple still fights in court while village grapples with how to move forward

OKAIMURA, Ibaraki Pref. (Kyodo) On Sept. 30, 1999, Shoichi Oizumi and his wife Keiko couldn't figure out why helicopters were hovering over their auto parts factory in the village of Tokaimura, Ibaraki Prefecture.

"Firefighters came to our factory to tell us to close the windows as an accident took place at JCO Co.," a nuclear fuel processor across the street, the 81-year-old Oizumi said. "But they did not know precisely what happened.

"I looked out the window, but I did not see any abnormal signs, such as smoke. I called the village office, but the officials did not know what really happened either," he said.

It was when the couple tuned in to the 7 p.m. TV news at home that they knew Japan's first criticality accident had occurred at JCO at 10:35 a.m.

The critical state lasted around 20 hours until its termination at 6:14 a.m. the next day, eventually causing the deaths of two JCO employees and exposing hundreds of residents, including the Oizumis, to radiation.

The village was thrown into panic, with many residents forced to evacuate, traffic systems suspended and schools closed. The area was also hit by devastating rumors that its farm products were contaminated with radiation.

The village is a center for nuclear research and development, playing host to numerous facilities, including labs operated by the Japan Atomic Energy Agency.

Ten years have passed since the nuclear disaster and the community now appears to have regained its composure, with the number of residents continuing to grow — despite the graying of Japan's overall population — and the local government enjoying healthy finances.

But the Oizumis are still struggling as the only individuals involved in a legal battle over the accident, in which they argue that their health has deteriorated since they were exposed to radiation, seeking ¥57.6 million in damages from JCO and its parent company, Sumitomo Metal Mining Co.

The lawsuit has been rejected by the Mito District and Tokyo High courts, but the couple have appealed to the Supreme Court.

"We are determined to hand down what happened 10 years ago so people will never suffer damage from a nuclear accident as we have done," Shoichi Oizumi said.

In the evening on the day of the accident, Keiko Oizumi, now 70, started suffering abdominal pains and she eventually felt weak and lost her appetite.

"I felt as if I was packed with lead in my body," she said.

She developed symptoms of depression, suffering heart palpitations or dizziness when she heard such words as "JCO," "criticality" and "radiation." She eventually tried to commit suicide. Shoichi Oizumi, meanwhile, has seen skin problems worsen since the exposure.

Yukie Inose, 69, a close friend of Keiko Oizumi since their childhood and a former employee at the couple's factory, said in a statement submitted to the Tokyo High Court: "Keiko seemed to have become a different person since the accident. We couldn't have a chat as we used to, and I couldn't do anything for her, although she became emaciated."

Their livelihood was also destroyed because they were forced to shut down their factory two years after the accident in the face of their deteriorating health, they argue in the lawsuit.

JCO, for its part, gave up resumption of uranium processing operations in April 2003 after the Mito District Court found the company and six of its employees guilty over the fatal accident, ruling the company allowed workers to use buckets to pour too much uranium solution into a processing tank, causing a nuclear fission chain reaction.

The company now engages in storage of low-radiation nuclear waste.

While still taking medication for posttraumatic stress disorder, Keiko Oizumi is now sometimes accepting media interviews while attending public meetings to share her experiences.

"As I myself worked for a small factory, I understand that JCO may have been involved in sloppy work to fulfill its quota amid intense competition," she said. "I believe that not only JCO but also the central government is responsible for the accident as it gave the approval to the company to conduct the nuclear business."

The nuclear fuel-processing facility, meanwhile, was divided into 18 parts, packed into drums in 2005 and is kept in special storage in the JCO compound, remaining in the shade of obscurity.

A full-scale replica of it was created and set up at the Ibaraki Science Museum of Atomic Energy in the village in 2006.

Tokaimura Mayor Tatsuya Murakami, who was in his first term when the accident took place, said the original should have been preserved to pass down the memory of the accident to future generations.

While Tokaimura has boasted of itself as a "village of atomic energy," Murakami is known for his cautious stance over nuclear power.

While admitting that memories of the disaster among people have gradually faded, he said, "Our village tried to make further advances in nuclear power unconditionally, but the JCO accident has made us recognize the importance of strengthening safety regulation over nuclear facilities."

Murakami was elected to a fourth term earlier in September in a narrowly victory or an opponent who had appealed for an active nuclear policy.

Kazumasa Aizawa, an antinuclear village council member, said, "We, the villagers, shared a deep sense of fear over nuclear power for 20 hours during the critical state, and I think this common experience forms the basis of Mr. Murakami's re-election."

Aizawa, for his part, advocates alternative energy sources, while Murakami said, "It may be possible for the village in a 50- or 100-year term to abandon nuclear facilities, but it is unrealistic at present. . . . I think we have to consider how to coexist with them."

Looking to the village's future, Murakami would like to promote scientific research on nuclear power. One way might be to establish an educational institution to train technical experts from home and abroad to contribute to the safety of nuclear facilities.

As part of efforts to "preserve the records of the JCO turmoil," the mayor is now working to archive the village's documents over the criticality accident.