Sirens blared, trains stopped and mourners bowed their heads Sunday as Japan marked the first anniversary of a twinned disaster that killed about 19,000 and set off a nuclear emergency. 
 
 At a theater in Tokyo, Japanese Emperor Akihito, 22 days after heart bypass surgery, stood for a moment of silence at 2:46 p.m. — the precise time when one year ago a 9.0-magnitude earthquake pulsed 80 miles off Japan’s northeastern coast. 
 
 In the many small towns devastated by the quake and the resulting tsunami wave — 45 feet high, in some cases — survivors dressed in black and laid flowers in spots where loved ones had died, places that now look like empty construction sites. 
 
 And at a baseball stadium in Fukushima, the prefecture (state) where a radiation-spewing nuclear plant forced the evacuation of 90,000 people, anti-nuclear protesters gathered to speak out about an energy source that has turned into one of Japan’s most divisive, and unresolved, issues. 
 
 One year later, the mega-disaster — 3/11 as it’s known here — remains a present crisis more than a part of history. It left scores jobless and homeless. It caused at least $200 billion in damage to ports, roads, buildings and other infrastructure, straining an already stagnant economy. Government bickering delayed the passage of reconstruction budgets, and authorities’ much-criticized response to the nuclear emergency at the Fukushima Daiichi facility led to a breakdown in public trust. 
 
 The disillusionment with government shows itself in the current debate over nuclear power, where many local communities refuse to allow the restart of reactors on their shorelines. At the moment, just two of Japan’s 54 reactors are in operation, a sharp reversal in a country that before last year depended on nuclear power for one-third of its energy. The reversal comes with a cost, because utility companies have been forced to import fossil fuels to maintain a reliable energy supply, potentially leading to higher bills for consumers and a perpetual trade deficit for the country. 
 
 The land immediately around the nuclear plant could be uninhabitable for decades, authorities have said, but even the tsunami-devastated towns untouched by radiation face a tenuous recovery. These fishing towns, even before last year, grappled with problems of shrinking and aging populations. Now these communities, in charge of their own reconstruction plans, find themselves torn between restoring the old way of life and conceiving something different. 
 
 More than 300,000 people still live as evacuees, in temporary housing units, hotels or homes of relatives. A recent Asahi Shimbun survey of evacuees found that 40 percent had lost their jobs or sources of income. Separate surveys showed higher levels of depression and insomnia among survivors. 
 
 “It’s probably impossible to make life comfortable right now,” said Yoshinori Sato, a worker at the city hall in tsunami-hit Ishinomaki. “Even I suffer from insomnia, though I didn’t lose as much as most people here. I have to take sleeping pills just to fall asleep. Even drinking sake doesn’t help.” 
 
 In some ways, Japan’s progress of the past year is obvious, though cosmetic. Towns that were shredded by the tsunami wave, their houses torn to metal and wood, have been cleared of debris and mud. Workers have repaired earthquake-caused chasms in the roads. The bullet train again runs to Sendai, the main city in the tsunami-devastated region. 
 
 Some of the more heartening images of reconstruction are displayed at the entrance of the prime minister’s office in central Tokyo. Several months ago, the government urged people to send photographs of “daily happenings” in the disaster zone, and Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda, in a recent blog entry, mentioned several of the most memorable ones. An infant receiving a massage at a temporary housing facility. Children gorging on Christmas cake. 
 
 “Of course, it may be that these have picked out only the brighter side of the disaster areas, and it is not my intention to claim that ‘reconstruction is proceeding smoothly’ based on these alone,” Noda wrote. “At the same time, I would be grateful if, by glimpsing new scenes of people who have set out along the path to reconstruction, even a few more people came to share the wish to continue to be a support in this process.” ||||| People hold a moment of silence in front of what is left of a disaster control center in an area devastated by the March 11, 2011 earthquake and tsunami, in Minamisanriku, Miyagi Prefecture, Sunday, March... (Associated Press) 
 
 People across Japan prayed and stood in silence on Sunday to remember the massive earthquake and tsunami that struck the nation one year ago, killing just over 19,000 people and unleashing the world's worst nuclear crisis in a quarter century. 
 
 In the devastated northeastern coastal town of Rikuzentakata, a siren sounded at 2:46 p.m. _ the exact time the magnitude-9.0 quake struck on March 11, 2011 _ and a Buddhist priest in a purple robe rang a huge bell at a damaged temple overlooking a barren area where houses once stood. 
 
 At the same time in the seaside town of Onagawa, people facing the sea pressed their hands together in silent prayer. 
 
 Meanwhile, at a memorial service in Tokyo's National Theater, 78-year-old Emperor Akihito, Empress Michiko and Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda stood in silence with hundreds of other people dressed in black. 
 
 Even in Tokyo's busy shopping district of Shibuya, pedestrians briefly stopped and fell silent before carrying on. 
 
 Noda recalled in a speech that the Japanese people have overcome disasters and difficulties many times in the past, and pledged to rebuild the nation and the area around the tsunami-stricken Fukushima nuclear plant so that the country will be "reborn as an even better place." 
 
 "Our predecessors who brought prosperity to Japan have repeatedly risen up from crises, every time becoming stronger," Noda said. "We will stand by the people from the disaster-hit areas and join hands to achieve the historic task of rebuilding." 
 
 The earthquake was the strongest recorded in Japan's history, and set off a tsunami that swelled to more than 65 feet (20 meters) in some spots along the northeastern coast, destroying tens of thousands of homes and bringing widespread destruction. 
 
 The tsunami also knocked out the vital cooling systems at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant, causing meltdowns at three reactors and spewing radiation into the air. Some 100,000 residents who were forced to flee remain in temporary housing or with relatives, and a 12-mile (20-kilometer) area around the plant is still off limits. 
 
 The emperor voiced concern about the difficulties of decontaminating the land around the plant. 
 
 "In order to make the area inhabitable again, we face the difficult problem of removing radiation," Akihito said in a brief address. "We shall not let our memory of the disasters fade, pay attention to disaster prevention and continue our effort to make this land an even safer place to live." 
 
 Naomi Fujino, a 42-year-old Rikuzentakata resident who lost her father in the tsunami, tearfully recalled last March 11. 
 
 With her mother, she escaped to a nearby hill where they watched the enormous wave wash away their home. They waited all night, but her father never came as he had promised. Two months later, his body was found. 
 
 "I wanted to save people, but I couldn't. I couldn't even help my father. I cannot keep crying," Fujino said. "What can I do but keep on going?" 
 
 All told, some 325,000 people rendered homeless or evacuated are still in temporary housing. While much of the debris along the tsunami-ravaged coast has been gathered into massive piles, very little rebuilding has begun. 
 
 Beyond the massive cleanup, many towns are still finalizing reconstruction plans, some of which involve moving residential areas to higher, safer ground _ ambitious, costly projects. Bureaucratic delays in coordination between the central government and local officials have also slowed rebuilding efforts. 
 
 Anti-nuclear protesters at a downtown Tokyo park also held a moment of silence Sunday before marching toward the headquarters of Tokyo Electric Power Co., the operator of the Fukushima nuclear power plant. Public opposition to nuclear power has grown in the wake of the disaster, the worst since Chernobyl in 1986. 
 
 The government says the crippled Fukushima plant is basically stable and radiation has subsided significantly, but the plant's chief acknowledged to journalists visiting the complex recently that it remains in a fragile state, and makeshift equipment _ some mended with tape _ could be seen keeping crucial systems running. 
 
 Enormous risks and challenges lie ahead at the plant, including locating and removing melted nuclear fuel from the inside of the reactors and disposing spent fuel rods. Completely decommissioning the plant could take 40 years. 
 
 Only two of Japan's 54 reactors are now running while those shut down for regular inspections undergo special tests to check their ability to withstand similar disasters. They could all go offline by the end of April amid local opposition to restarting them. 
 
 The Japanese government has pledged to reduce reliance on nuclear power, which supplied about 30 percent of the nation's energy needs before the disaster, but says it needs to restart some nuclear plants during the transition period. 
 
 Authorities say no one has died from radiation exposure, but residents are worried the radiation might result in cancers in coming years. Scientists say there is no clear evidence of increased cancer risk from the estimated amount of radiation Fukushima residents have been exposed to, although the health impact of low-dose radiation remains uncertain. 
 
 Pilot efforts to make contaminated land around the plant inhabitable again have begun, using everything from shovels and high-powered water guns to chemicals that absorb radiation. 
 
 Prime Minister Noda has acknowledged failures in the government's response to the disaster, including being too slow in relaying key information and believing too much in "a myth of safety" about nuclear power. 
 
 In Rikuzentakata, 37-year-old Mika Hashikai, who lost both her parents in the tsunami, went around Sunday leaving flowers at the former homes of her friends and neighbors. Her brother also lost his wife and daughter in the tsunami. 
 
 "I only wish for my brother's happiness now that he's lost everything and is alone," she said. "Maybe one day he can remarry and have children again." 
 
 ___ 
 
 Foster reported from Tokyo. Associated Press writer Mari Yamaguchi in Tokyo contributed to this report.
– At 2:46pm local time today, people all across Japan stood in silence to remember the 9.0 magnitude earthquake and tsunami exactly one year ago that killed more than 19,000 people, destroyed 370,000 homes, and created the world's worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl, reports the AP. Sirens marked the earthquake, trains stopped, and a Buddhist priest in one coastal town rang a huge bell. At Tokyo's National Theater, Emperor Akihito, Empress Michiko, and Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda stood in silence, along with hundreds of others. "We shall not let our memory of the disasters fade, pay attention to disaster prevention, and continue our effort to make this land an even safer place to live," said the emperor, who underwent heart surgery just 22 days ago. The earthquake caused at least $200 billion to the nation's coast, cities, roads, and ports, and today there are still 260,000 people living in temporary housing, reports the Washington Post. "We will stand by the people from the disaster-hit areas and join hands to achieve the historic task of rebuilding," said the prime minister.