
Two months after the Great East Japan Earthquake, a community radio station called FM Minasan ("FM Everyone") was born in the coastal town of Minamisanriku, Miyagi Prefecture—where over 60% of households had been affected, and more than 8,000 residents were living in evacuation shelters.
At a makeshift booth in the corner of a gymnasium, nine local men and women—former office workers, a single father and former dump truck driver, among others—took to the microphone. They were paid ¥840 per hour. This was officially a job.
But none of them had any radio experience. Important announcements failed to air during live broadcasts. One member, Mr. Izumi, was even told by his teenage son, “You’re just not cut out for this.” Still, there was no time to mope. That Christmas, the town glowed again with the lighting of a fir tree. A temporary shopping street reopened. Life went on. And with it, the voices of FM Minasan continued to echo through the airwaves—bringing comfort and familiarity to those still living in their beloved hometown. When 2012 began, the crew at FM Minasan asked themselves: “What more can we do for this town?” Because if any place needed more laughter, it was a disaster zone like theirs. And from that thought, a small miracle was born.
Parting with the people and places we hold dear is something we all face someday. And yet—while carrying that sorrow—we stumble, cry, laugh, and live on, just like the radio crew and their listeners. This is not just their story. It is a story of all of us, walking forward together toward tomorrow.