Lee Keum-seom hasn’t held her son in 68 years. The last time she saw him, Sang Chol was four years old, and together with her husband and their daughter, they were headed south, fleeing the fighting during the early days of the Korean War.
They continued south, becoming part of the flood of refugees who crossed what became the Demilitarized Zone. Only later did she discover that her husband and son remained on the other side of the divide, in North Korea.
They are among the tens of thousands of Koreans whose families were separated by the war.
Lee is now one of a small number of people fortunate enough to be chosen for government-run family reunions.
On Monday, the first reunion in three years will take place, at North Korea’s Mount Kumgang. The reunion is included in the historic accord that was signed by the leaders of the two Koreas in April. Around 57,000 people were eligible to take part. Of those, 0.16%, just 93 people, have been selected.
Those left out face the agonizing prospect of never seeing their family members again. More than 75,000 people have already died without ever reuniting with their loved ones.
«When I came to the South, I realized that I won’t see them again alive,» Lee, now 92, said of her husband and son. «I thought to myself that the war needs to be over for us to meet. I gave up seeing them again.»
Separation
Lee grew up in South Hamgyong province in what is now North Korea, where she got married and had two sons. The first died in infancy, but the second survived and she and her husband named him Sang Chol.
Lee was staying at her in-laws’ home in Kapsan county when the war broke out on June 25,1950, after months of rising tensions between the US-occupied South and Soviet-backed North Korea.
Their house was in remote countryside and little news ever reached their doors, but refugees running away from the fighting told Lee and her in-laws what had happened. «They were coming from deep in the mountains,» she said. «They told us as they left that they were fleeing and that we should as well.»
The family packed food and supplies onto an ox cart and headed south.
«We didn’t get to go back to our house. We fled with just the clothes we wore for the trip. We kept walking and walking,» she said. «Then we walked again. I needed to breastfeed my baby. But there were so many people on the road and in the houses by the road so there was no place to do it.»
Seeking privacy, Lee crossed a small stream with her infant daughter, leaving her husband to look after the then four-year-old Sang Chol.
When she returned, the two had disappeared. Lee walked all day but couldn’t find them, becoming more and more distressed but determined to keep searching.
«I continued on. I thought he must have gone all the way,» she said. «I didn’t stop to sleep or eat and kept going.»
Eventually she came upon her brother-in-law, who told her they had been searching for her as well. Lee’s husband had gone back to try and find her, but they had missed each other on the road in the crush of refugees.
She never saw her husband or son again.
Fleeing war
As Lee and her husband’s family continued south, she clung onto hope that he and Sang Chol would catch up with them.
The fighting did instead. One night, as they were sheltering in an abandoned house, she was awoken by the sound of bullets.
«We were in a bad spot,» she said. «We all lay down and stayed there.»
Unable to sleep, she lay in the dark and listened to the battle, her eyes tightly shut. Eventually an announcement came that the fighting had stopped and civilians could board a train headed south.
The train was packed with refugees. Lee and her relatives threw their luggage onto the snow-topped roofs of the carriages and climbed on board themselves. They rode the train overnight to a port, where they were told to get on a ferry headed for Geoje Island.
