hankyoreh

Oh In-se

The bridegroom’s face showed all the marks of the 65 years that had passed. The hair of the bride, a pretty 19-year-old when she left alone for the South, was now frosted with gray. The son that had been in her belly seven months into their marriage had passed his sixtieth birthday without ever having seen his father’s face.

“Come sit next to me,” whispered Oh In-se, 83, to his wife Lee Sun-kyu, 85. It was as if he was calling forth an old memory.

“Meeting again like this after 65 years? It’s all right, I guess. Once I start talking about how much I missed her, there’d be no end to it.”

Dressed in a reddish-brown traditional Korean hanbok outfit, Lee was shy. Oh expressed his apologies to his wife.

“It was the war,” he stammered. “I mean, I…I had no idea how hard it was going to be.”

Oh seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence, perhaps out of guilt for having started a new family in the North. Lee, who had been smiling quietly and talking about how “happy and giddy” she was when she left Sokcho, Gangwon Province, on the morning of Oct. 20, now said that she was “not even crying,” even as she wiped the corners of her eyes.

It was around 3 pm, and the reunion center for separated family members at Mt. Keumgang in North Korea was awash in tears and cries. Every one of the 96 relatives who had crossed the armistice line from the South had their own sad story to tell.

For son Oh Jang-gyun, 65, it had been a lifelong dream. Over and over, he had repeated the word in his mind -- “father.” When they finally met, he prostrated himself in a deep bow.

As soon as they saw each other, Oh In-se clutched his son in a deep embrace.

“I have tried all my life to live as a son with a father,” the younger Oh wept.

The two puts their hands side by side and looked at each other’s faces. “We do look alike,” they said tearfully.

Oh Jang-gyun was born five months after his father went missing, departing from the village of Gadeok in Cheongwon County, North Chungcheong Province. He had been married for just over six months.

“You got ten days of training, and that was it,” he explained.

His last memory of his pregnant wife was her waving and saying, “Have a good trip.” Left alone, she had to be tough in raising her son, traveling the country to do farm work during the day and odd sewing work at night.

Lee Ok-yeon, 87, was dressed in a hanbok outfit with a light pink jacket and purple skirt. She turned her head and saw the husband she had been waiting for so long -- now approaching ninety. The husband, 88-year-old Chae Hun-sik, wordlessly wept as he clutched his son so tightly it seemed his hat might fall off.

“Father, it’s your son,” said Chae Hee-yang, 66, through his sobs.

Lee was hesitant to take her husband’s hand when he reached it out.

“I’m so old now,” she said. “What am I going to do with it?”

It was in August 1950 that Chae said he was “going away for a bit.” She hadn’t heard from him since. Left behind, his wife and son spent their lives in the village in North Gyeongsang Province, awaiting his return some day. Now the father was incredulously stroking the face of the son who had been just a newborn when he went away.

“Your mother . . . without me there . . . please try to understand,” he wept. “I was alone for ten years, and I didn’t know if reunification would ever happen. . . .”

It was his apology for remarrying. Sadness mixed with joy, joy with sadness.

and his wife Lee Sun-kyu

Three hundred eighty-nine people from 96 families in the South Korean delegation arrived at Mt. Keumgang Hotel at around one p.m. that day. At 2:50 pm, they went to wait at the center for the group reunions. Around ten minutes had passed silently, in a mixture of tension and anticipation, when the strains of the North Korean song “Bangapseumnida (Glad to See You)” began to sound. All eyes turned toward the entrance to see the 141 members of North Korea‘s 96-family delegation walk in.

“Is it me?”

“No.”

“You came!”

“You saw me right away.”

“You’re alive! You’re alive!”

“You came! You’re here!”

“You must be my father. My father!”

Tears began to pour as brief exclamations and deep sighs echoed all around. The reunited family members embraced and stroked one another tenderly.

The conclusion of the two-hour group reunions was slow and painful. Even though family members knew they would meet several more times before departing Mt. Keumkang on Oct. 22, they clung to each other’s hands as if they were saying goodbye forever. Their old longing and guilt were that strong.

The family members met again at 7 o’clock that evening. This was the welcome dinner that South Korea had prepared at the meeting center. Smiles were evident amid the tears. The long years apart were bridged by this short meeting. The two hours of dinner seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. As the people went back to their accommodations, weight and weariness could be seen in their steps.

On Tuesday morning at 8:37, the group of divided families from South Korea had boarded 16 buses and headed up the East Sea Line Road toward Mt. Keumkang. An ambulance crossed the armistice line, too.

Kim Sun-tak, 77, the South Korean younger sister of North Korean Kim Hyeonghwan, 83, was in an ambulance, hooked up to a ventilator because her asthma had gotten worse.

Yeom Jin-rye, 83, who was excited about meeting her older brother Yeom Jin-bong, 84, was also transported in an ambulance because of pain from a slipped disc.

Kwon Oh-hui, 97, hoping to meet his stepson Ri Han-sik, 80, and Kim Nam-gyu, 96, hoping to meet his younger sister Kim Nam-dong, 83, were some of the oldest family members in the group, but they also made it to North Korea with no issues.

During the border control procedures that took about an hour at North Korea’s CIQ (Customs, Immigration, and Quarantine), North Korean officials examined all of the laptop computers brought by South Korean reporters. During the 19th session of reunions that took place in Feb. 2014, North Korea took issue with a word document saved on the laptop of a South Korean reporter and refused to allow that reporter to cross the border.

By Kim Jin-chul, staff reporter

Please direct questions or comments to [english@hani.co.kr]