Osutaka: A Chronicle of Loss In the World's Largest Single Plane Crash

By Christopher Hood

The loss of a loved one is a traumatic event. If the loved one is your child, the emotions are further tested. Imagine having to cope with all of these feelings when also adding into the mix the challenges when the death happens on the other side of the planet in a country with a different language and culture. This is what one man had to face when his son died in the world’s largest single plane crash. Peter Mathews lost his son Kimble, who was travelling with his fiancée Masako Nishiguchi, in the flight JL123 crash on 12 August 1985. From the time of the first phone call through his trip to Japan until his return back to the UK, Peter kept a diary and took photographs. Using these materials as a basis, this book provides an amazing insight into the events of August 1985. The book also includes details of the experiences and lessons learned by the JAL employee, Keith Haines, who was assigned to accompany the Mathews family to Japan. Their story is as relevant today as it was in 1985.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9780244674922

Book preview

Osutaka: A Chronicle of Loss In the World's Largest Single Plane Crash

Osutaka: A Chronicle of Loss In the World’s Largest Single Plane Crash

By Christopher P. Hood

Text copyright © 2018 Christopher P. Hood.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly publication.

First edition: 2014. Second edition: 2018

ISBN 978-0-244-67492-2 (ebk)

ISBN 978-0-244-97492-3 (pbk)

Caradoc Books

https://caradocbooks.wordpress.com

Other books by the author:

Education Reform in Japan: Nakasone’s Legacy

Shinkansen: From Bullet Train to Symbol of Modern Japan

Dealing with Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash

Japan: The Basics

Hijacking Japan

To Kim and Mako

Summary

The loss of a loved one at any time is a traumatic event. When their death comes as a result of something sudden and unexpected, the impact can be even greater. If the loved one is your child – one who you would expect to outlive – the emotions are further tested. Imagine having to cope with all of these feelings when also adding into the mix the challenges when the death happens on the other side of the planet in a country with a different language and culture. This is exactly what one man did have to face when his son died in the world’s largest single plane crash.

There were 524 crew and passengers on board JAL flight JL123 and all but four perished in the crash on 12 August 1985 in mountains in central Japan. All but 22 of the victims were Japanese. Whilst the world’s media covered the crash in as much detail as it could in the first few days after the crash, over time the majority of the discussion about the crash has been in Japanese. There have been books studying the crash, novels, documentaries, dramatizations and movies. In many respects the crash is the Japanese equivalent of The Titanic. But interest in the crash is not confined to Japan. This book will allow readers to fully appreciate what it was like for the families coming to terms with their loss or what it is like for those trying to support such families.

Peter Mathews lost his son Kimble, who was travelling with his fiancée Masako Nishiguchi, in the crash. From the time of the first phone call through his trip to Japan until his return back to the UK, he kept a diary of what he saw and experienced. He also took photographs of some of the sights. Using these materials as a basis, this book provides an amazing insight into the events of August 1985. The book also includes details of the experiences and lessons learned by the JAL employee, Keith Haines, who was assigned to accompany the Mathews family to Japan. These are as relevant today as they were in 1985.

In the words of Peter Mathews himself; ‘The facts are history now. You know all about the crash. But for an in-depth account of a father’s anguish searching for his only son’s remains, read my diary notes – unsolicited and written at any spare moment. They tell my story of grief perhaps better than anything.’

Notes on style

The revised Hepburn Romanization system is used for Japanese words. Consequently the prefecture where JL123 crash is written as Gunma rather Gumma. An apostrophe is used between combinations ‘n’ and ‘yo’, for example, to distinguish between the sounds n’yo and nyo. Macrons are used as appropriate on Japanese words. Macrons denote long vowel sounds and are twice the length of a short vowel in pronunciation. Macrons have been added as appropriate to words in quotations where they were omitted in the original. Macrons are not included on words where the brand name does not include them, e.g. Tokyo Disneyland.

All personal names are written in the order given name-family name.

Where translations have not been attributed to other sources, they are by Christopher Hood.

Due to fluctuations in exchange rates conversions are not used. On 12 August 1985, £1=¥328 and $1=¥237. In August 2014, the approximate exchange rates were £1=¥170 and $1=¥100.

Acknowledgements

Over a decade has passed since I first started conducting research about the flight JL123 crash. This research initially led to the book Dealing with Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash. However, the genesis for this book, as you will read in the Introduction, was very much the diary, photographs and listening to the experiences of Peter Mathews and Keith Haines. Dealing with Disaster in Japan was primarily an academic book. There was no way that I could do justice to the materials and information that I had garnered already from them or the additional information that I expected that I could get from additional questioning. After the completion of Dealing with Disaster in Japan, I set about addressing that. The result is this book. Consequently, this book is very much about Peter and Keith. I have seen my role in this project as being much like the conductor of an orchestra; trying to ensure that the parts fit together and they both provide the best output possible; more an editor rather than an author, but Peter insisted that I be credited as the author.

In getting the book to a state where it is ready to be read, it has taken many hours of patience and hard work from the three of us. But there is no doubt that without Peter’s and Keith’s preparedness to answer my questions and to check details, it would not have been possible to complete the book. I am deeply grateful to both of them. I hope that what has been put together and that they consider it a fitting memorial to Kim and Mako. In addition, I would also like to thank Mado, Peter’s wife, who has also helped check the text, help Peter to recall things from 1985 and for all her hospitality and wonderful cooking on the days when we all met at the house to discuss the book.

In 2018 Peter passed away and so a second edition seemed fitting so that an Epilogue could be included to cover a few additional updates.

Christopher Hood

March 2018

Maps

Map of Japan Showing Key Places Mentioned in the Text

Map by the author.

The JL123 route map

Map by the author based on Figure 1 in the official investigation report.

Part One: Setting the Scene

Chapter 1: Introduction

‘Osutaka? Where is it?’

The three men looked at the map spread out in front of them.

‘It’s not marked,’ I said as I pointed to where it would be.

‘Why not? Why, after what happened there?’

Osutaka. It is a name that is familiar to many Japanese. Yet look on most printed maps, even Japanese ones, and you won’t find it. It’s not as beautiful or as iconic as Mount Fuji. It’s not as hard to climb as Mount Tanigawa. It’s not an active volcano like Sakurajima. It doesn’t even make the list of Japan’s ‘100 famous mountains’ made famous by mountaineer and writer Kyūya Fukada in 1964. Yet its notoriety is such that, it’s often referred to merely as Osutaka rather than Osutaka-yama (Mount Osutaka). Historically there were many ‘osutaka-yama’; mountains (yama) where nesting (su) hawks (taka) were. The honorific ‘o’ at the start reflected the fact that the hunting that took place there was largely reserved for the Shōgun. But today, although this historical meaning is still conveyed in the single mountain that bears the name, Osutaka is associated with altogether different part of Japan’s history. On 12 August 1985, Japan Air Lines (JAL) flight JL123 crashed whilst on a domestic flight from Tōkyō to Ōsaka. The main crash site today is known as Osutaka-no-One, the ridge on Osutaka. The name reflects not only the location as it is known by many, but that, in reality the ridge is on another, relatively unknown, mountain, Mount Takamagahara. By the time the error in location had been noted, the name Osutaka had been etched firmly into history.

The small town in southern England where the three of us sat around a map could hardly have been more different to the places which we were to be discussing. It was a pleasant May afternoon. The sun was out, but it wasn’t a burning heat of a Japanese summer. There was no oppressiveness of high humidity. We sat around a garden table, protected from the modest heat of the sun by a large umbrella. The garden in was immaculate; a lawn fit for playing tennis on, surrounded by an array of beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees. Other than our voices, the only sounds that could be heard were of the occasional bird tweeting. In front of us, a map and a selection of snacks and our drinks. It was just over four years since we had first all got together. It was nearly 26 years since the other two had first met. A combination of coincidences and events had brought us all together.

I was a lecturer at Cardiff University. Part of my job entails doing research and publishing the results of this research. My research interests revolve primarily around Japan with my first two books being about education reform in Japan and about the shinkansen, ‘bullet train’. In 2005 I was beginning to work on a new project, although I was struggling to make progress with it. One day I went to London and during the day went to a wine bar, The Chopper Lump, and met up with two friends who worked at JAL. One of them, Keith Haines, was running late and the other, Robert Rigby, asked whether I knew that Keith had been involved with the JL123 crash. I told him that I hadn’t known that, and he encouraged me to ask Keith about it. I was a bit wary about discussing such a sensitive topic, but I had got to know Keith quite well in the five years since I first met him and so thought it could be worth a try although I was a bit surprised that Keith had never mentioned himself before. I had first met Keith after I won a Japanese speaking competition and part of the prize was an executive class ticket to Japan on JAL; Keith had been the person who was charged with making the arrangements for me. I had been less than tactful at our first meeting as I said that I preferred flying on a different airline, but despite this start, or perhaps because of it, we kept in touch and often got together when I visited London. So, on that afternoon in 2005, when Keith arrived, we began to discuss the crash over a few beers. Keith told me that he had travelled together with the family of the sole British victim on the flight. He also added that he was coming up for retirement in 2006 and that, after he retired and if it would be of interest to my students, he would be happy to come to speak at the university about his experiences in 1985.

In September 2006 I attended Keith’s retirement party at the pub where we had first talked about JL123 together. Keith reminded me of his preparedness to talk about his experiences. We subsequently confirmed the date of the talk for 20 March 2007. During the autumn, we continued to liaise about the seminar. One day, Keith emailed to suggest that he contact Peter Mathews, the father of the British victim, to see if he would be prepared to join the seminar too as Keith felt his contribution would be more relevant. He also mentioned that Peter had taken a number of photographs during his time in Japan in 1985. Peter was seemingly very enthusiastic to take part. Indeed, Peter also alerted us to the fact that he had taken photographs during his time in Japan in 1985 and that we could use these for the seminar. That he took such photographs intrigued me, but I did not ask anything further at that time. We agreed to meet up in February to discuss the details of the seminar. Prior to that meeting Keith and I continued to liaise by email. One of the things that continued to concern me was whether the delicate nature of the topic would be too difficult for Peter and Keith to talk about. I was also concerned about how much I could ask Peter when I first met him, but Keith reassured me that Peter was very open about the crash and that I should not be concerned. There was another issue that had to be addressed too. How could my students and the rest of the seminar audience appreciate Peter’s and Keith’s words if they had no understanding of the crash? It was agreed that I would do an introductory talk on the evening giving a background about the crash.

One of my lectures already touched upon the flight JL123 crash, so I thought it would be straight forward to develop this as the basis of the introduction. I started reading some pages on the internet to look for some additional information. As I did this I was soon struck by the number of pages including numerous videos of different sorts on YouTube. Why was there so much interest in the crash around the world? I was also struck by the fact that there were numerous books in Japanese, but seemingly no books solely about the crash in English. With the thought that I would soon have access to Peter’s photographs, I began to realise that I may have access to materials that could be like gold dust for a researcher. On top of this, I was mindful of the fact that, as far as I’m aware, the news of JL123 was the first time that I ever saw Japan in the news. One of my Japanese friend’s father was also on board the flight. All these things came together to make me feel that I should write a book on the subject.

When I met with Peter for the first time in February 2007, my decision to write about JL123 was further legitimised when Peter not only handed me his photo albums from 1985 but also some additional materials. When I enquired what was in the box, Peter informed me that he had kept notes, like a diary, of everything during his time in Japan. How could I not now write about JL123? And so I embarked on my studies of JL123. Although I had originally planned to finish the book within two years, I found that the more I put into it, the more I got out of it. In the end the book was not completed until the 25th anniversary of the crash, and was published about a year later as hardback and in 2013 as a paperback. I am very happy with many aspects of the book, but there was one significant thing missing from it; Peter’s ‘diary’. Although my book contains a handful of Peter’s photos, there was just no space to include significant entries from the diary itself. These photographs and the diary are important historical documents relating to one of the most significant plane crashes in history. They should be in the public domain in some format. So, on the back of completing the manuscript for my book Dealing With Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash, Peter, Keith and I met on a sunny afternoon at Peter’s house in May 2011 to start work on turning Peter’s diary into a book of its own.

‘Do you intend to just reproduce the diary and notes?’ Peter asked.

‘No, I’m keen to do more than that,’ I replied. ‘As with my other book, the readers need to know the context. The readers won’t be able to identify with you if they don’t know anything about who you were prior to the events of 1985.’

‘Shouldn’t the focus be on Kim?’

‘Yes, indeed. In many respects this will be as much about Kim as it is about you. The readers need to know about both of you prior to 1985.’

‘What about the crash? Will that be covered in detail in the book?’

‘I don’t want to put too much about the crash itself in the book. I want to introduce elements through the book so the readers learn about it in much the same way as the both of you did during August 1985.’

‘And if readers want to learn more, they can always read your book,’ Keith added.

With that agreed, I set Peter some homework; to write a short autobiography. This became the basis of Chapters 2 and 3 of the book. Chapter 2 concentrates largely on Peter’s life, whilst Chapter 3 switches the focus to be more on Kim himself. Chapter 3 also uses notes Peter made about Kim at other times as well as some of the letters that Kim wrote back home in 1985. Although it would have been possible to edit the text of Chapters 2 and 3 to be in the third person, given that the core part of this book are the notes that Peter wrote in 1985, which are in the first person, I wanted to keep Chapters 2 and 3 in the first person also to make it easier for the reader to engage with Peter and get used his style of writing. By reading these chapters we come to appreciate what sort of person Kim was and also why he ended up on flight JL123. The chapters also help us to better understand the person whose words you will read in the core chapters of the book. The main focus of the book is naturally the events of 1985 and the ‘diary’, but to appreciate that part of the book more, it helps to understand the man who wrote it. Indeed, to understand who Kim was, one needs to understand who Peter is. The connections between their lives is not merely about DNA. Consequently, Part 1 of the book is about setting the scene and the context for the rest of the book.

Part 2 of the book focusses on the events of August 1985 and uses Peter’s ‘diary’ and photographs as the backbone to do this. Each day is another chapter. In reality many of Peter’s entries were written on a single day and covered multiple days. Sometimes there were also additional notes about an earlier day. These were notes written on available paper, not entries into a more formal diary. Although I considered keeping with the way in which they were written, on balance the chronological separation makes for easier reading. This is particularly the case as each chapter is not a presentation of the ‘diary’ and photographs alone. Having presented the ‘diary’ entry for that day, each chapter then has the transcript of conversations between Peter, Keith and myself discussing the issues raised by that day’s entry as well as introducing information, as it would have been read in English language newspapers, about the crash itself. Doing this gives the opportunity for Peter and Keith to further discuss what was happening on those terrible days as well as for me to bring in additional explanation about the various cultural issues or points about the crash. To help save space, rather than writing out our names each time, I have used initials; PM for Peter Mathews, KH for Keith Haines and CPH for myself.

Part 3 of the book covers the additional visits Peter has made to Japan. It also includes discussion about the talks that Keith has been invited to do in relation to his experiences. Whilst Keith is always keen to point that he is not an expert on how to respond to an aviation disaster, the points that he makes are extremely pertinent and there are important lessons that can be learnt. That seemingly not all of his words have been taken on board by his audiences is a point that we will discuss in the concluding chapter.

The pattern of the chapters in Parts 2 and 3 are similar, although there are subtle differences. In Part 2, each chapter starts with a note about the paper on which the ‘diary’ was written before introducing the text itself. This is followed by the discussion between the three of us on those day’s events. In Part 3, the interviews form the core of the chapters with additional materials being included where relevant in answer to particular questions. It would have been possible to structure the chapters differently – merging the information from the diaries, interviews and other sources together to make a more narrative style. However, I felt it was important to maintain the authenticity of the original diary. It is for a movie maker to develop a more narrative style based on the contents of the book.

As mentioned above, the primary objective of this project was to get these incredible historical documents into the public domain, and to maximise their potential by adding the additional input from Peter, Keith and myself. For that reason it was agreed at an early stage that rather than turning to an academic or other publisher, the focus would be on getting the book completed as easily as possible and allowing us to maintain complete control over its content. We also wanted to make sure that as many people as possible could access the book; academic books tend to be particularly expensive. As a consequence it was decided to use a publisher which would allow for the book to be sold reasonably as an eBook with a publish-on-demand option for those who prefer printed versions. We have not employed a copy-editor. Whilst Peter and Keith have both read the text to help iron out typing and English errors, I take full responsibility for any remaining mistakes. Ironing out such errors has not been the only challenge. For example, there were times where Peter’s original ‘diary’ entry contained mistakes – factual or grammatical; should these be left as they are for authenticity or be corrected? Spelling mistakes were corrected. But I wanted to leave the other errors as I believe this in part demonstrates the conditions under which Peter was writing in 1985. That each chapter has our discussion on the day’s events allows for factual errors to be addressed. I should also point out that there were times where there was a mismatch between the ‘diary’ and Peter’s or Keith’s memories of the events. In most cases it has been possible to work these out. Just like the seminar at Cardiff University in 2007, what makes this book powerful are Peter’s and Keith’s words rather than mine.

In many respects this book is the natural complement to my book Dealing with Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash. Until that book came out no other book in English had dealt with so much about not only the reasons for the crash itself, and even then it was one of the only English language materials to note that question marks remain about the cause, but it also covered the way in which it impacted so many families and a range of other aspects related to the crash what this told us about Japanese society. However, what the book lacked at one level was detailed accounts from those who had lost a loved one on the flight or had been involved in looking after such families. That is not to say that the book did not have any of this, but it was inferred more than being detailed. Osutaka: A Chronicle of Loss in the World’s Largest Single Plane Crash on the other hand focussed on this aspect of the tragedy. Whilst it does include discussion about broader aspects of the crash and the workings of Japanese society, those wanting to learn more about this are encouraged to read Dealing with Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash.

Peter gave me perhaps my favourite review in relation to my book Dealing with Disaster in Japan: Responses to the Flight JL123 Crash when he said that it was ‘difficult to pick up and impossible to put down’. Given the harrowing nature of the topic, let alone his personal connection to the disaster, it is a sentiment I fully understand and appreciate. In many ways Osutaka: A Chronicle of Loss in the World’s Largest Single Plane Crash is even more detailed in terms of the raw human emotions and I am sure there will be times when you will be challenged as to whether you can go on. I cannot promise that it’s impossible to put down; indeed I am also aware of some who had to stop reading the other book due to finding parts too upsetting, but please do try to read through to the end. There are many heart-warming lessons and experiences included within the book and reading to the end is likely to help bring a degree of closure as well as help you learn from what Peter and Keith went through. After reading the book, I would also like to encourage you to visit the official Facebook group for those wishing to remember those who died in the JL123 crash. The address is

https://www.facebook.com/groups/6637333763/?ref=bookmarks

I would like to conclude this chapter by citing something that Peter once said to me;

‘The facts are history now. You know all about the crash. But for an in-depth account of a father’s anguish searching for his only son’s remains, read my diary notes – unsolicited and written at any spare moment. They tell my story of grief perhaps better than anything.’

Chapter 2: Peter Mathews, A Short Autobiography

I was born on 25 November 1934, the son of Percy Mathews. Percy’s mother is thought to have had Scottish roots, while Percy’s father was of Irish extraction being an Art Metal Worker by trade rising to become a floor foreman at the prestigious firm of Osler and Faraday. He had set up his own business in the early 1900s manufacturing decorative lighting and made sure my father had a good education resulting in the enrolment at the Regent St. Polytechnic where he obtained qualification as toolmaker. My mother, Vera, but commonly known as ‘Peg’, was one of three daughters and two sons of Agnes and John Jurgenson. John was an immigrant from Riga, Latvia. Vera was a seamstress by trade, ending her working life at Country Life Ware making and fitting linings into bespoke coats. 

I saw my dad as something of a ‘Jack the Lad’. My grandfather had died in the early 1930s leaving my father the business, which was to all intents a successful enterprise, giving him the wherewithal to live a comfortable life, in spite the economic downturn during the 1930s. He met Vera and there was an affair which resulted in a pregnancy from which I was the result. My dad ‘did the honourable thing’ and they were married. However, there was animosity between my dad and the in-laws right from the start. After the marriage, my parents set up home in Davenant Road, Upper Holloway, London, just a stone’s throw from where the Jurgensons lived. In no time at all they moved to Twickenham, probably at my dad’s instigation, to put distance between them and the in-laws. Although I have no memory of being ill, I remember being told by my mum that I caught pneumonia at the new home because it was so draughty. There were stories of my dad spending more and more time out drinking with his friends. In the end, my dad seems to have acquiesced and succumbed to mum’s wish to live nearer her mother and they moved to Seafield Road, Southgate in 1937. I believe my first memory is of around this time and that I was in a pram outside Brighton station and there being lots of bunting and decorations everywhere due to it being the coronation of George VI. In September 1938 my brother, David, was born.

Early in 1939 there was much disquiet concerning an imminent war with Germany. This was reason enough for moving again, this time to Pemberton Gardens in North London, half a mile or so from my grandmother down the Holloway Road. Pemberton Gardens was a tree lined street with large houses built in the Edwardian style probably around 1905/10 to accommodate the up and coming new middle classes. A lot of the houses were empty and were for renting. Although they had big gardens, they backed on to the railway that went into King’s Cross station. The houses numbers 35 and 37 were semi-detached and were adjacent to and a tram and bus depot, with the tram lines going down the centre of the road. These were, perhaps, all factors in the owners or tenants moving away. I can but speculate that the owners or tenants of the empty houses moved away because of this depot being built, downgrading the area, but whatever the reason, the houses proved to a great source of adventure for young lads like me. One memory that particularly sticks out was when I got into one of the empty houses, just further up the road there was in a kind of conservatory in which, on a long wooden bench, I discovered many boxes of postcard sized glass negatives. There were hundreds of them. How I regret not taking them. I’ll never know what treasures were contained in those negative images.

My family rented initially the ground floor only, consisting of two enormous rooms, interconnecting with great big doors, a kitchen-cum living room which had a stone-built balcony with stone stairs leading down to garden. My dad was drafted into the navy soon after war was declared and spent some 18 months at Portsmouth on motor torpedo boats. I still cherish the few letters he wrote to me. Dad’s time in the navy was short lived because he developed an ear problem. Being qualified as a toolmaker he was sent to work at Cossors, a company making radios as its main product, but during the war years it was radar and allied equipment they concentrated on. I used to enjoy meeting dad off the bus stop in Holloway Road in the early evening. Dad also used to do fire watching duty on a regular basis. I was never evacuated but was taken down to Brighton to my ‘Seaside nanny’. This would have been in 1940 and before the blitz proper. I went to a primary school in Moulsecoomb in Brighton, necessitating a half-a-mile walk up out of