He called his workers together. “My friends,” he said solemnly, “a meteor has struck the Pacific Ocean near California. Earthquakes larger than anything ever experienced in history are moving toward Japan. I have heard the earthquakes may come by nine o’clock tonight—the giant tsunami by one A.M. tomorrow morning.

“Our government has not had adequate warning. They have not yet warned the people. Millions of Japanese people will die tonight. We have been ordered to shut down the reactors here at Tokai. If we do, Tokyo will lack power. The cooling pipes cannot withstand an earthquake or a tsunami, whether we shut down now or do so later. It was folly to build a nuclear power plant on this place. There will be a meltdown. There is nothing we can do about it now.

“For now, my friends,” he continued, “we will install a timing device that will disengage the core beginning at seven tonight. I hope that we can avoid the tragedy of Chernobyl. Then we will gather our families and head toward the mountains. Hopefully, we will survive.”

AS AFTERNOON WORE ON, it was impossible to hide from the Japanese people the tragedy that was bearing down upon them. Ito could see it unfolding before his eyes. Television commentators took the available facts and magnified them, although they did not even come close to describing the horrific events that were about to occur.

As panic set in, workers poured out of office buildings, stores, and factories. The streets were jammed with crying, pleading, cursing people. Within minutes, the roadways leading from Tokyo, which were jammed during the best of times, turned into a chaotic mass of stalled vehicles. Dozens of people were trampled to death as they attempted to board overcrowded trains out of the city. Others walked. Some rode bicycles. Anything just to get to higher ground, away from the ocean.

As panic intensified throughout Japan, more and more residents trying to leave the major cities clutched their chests and fell prostrate with heart attacks. Those who fell were trampled by the stampede of fear-crazed people.

The international airlines had seen the danger coming and had canceled all flights into Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Philippines. Aircraft with crews near major Japanese airports were flown west to India and beyond. Airline crews in downtown Tokyo found travel to the international airport impossible. The air routes to the west were jammed with air traffic from Southeast Asia headed west.

To those like Ito who remembered the begging, pleading crowds surrounding the U.S. embassy in Saigon after the fall of South Vietnam, the scenes at Asian airports were much worse. International businessmen, diplomats, students, tourists all faced death. The night before, they had been enjoying comfortable hotel rooms, excellent food, extraordinary shopping, and famed Asian hospitality. Now, they were part of a faceless mob—unable to communicate with the rest of the world, fighting to escape sure death.