Unspoken pain: Cho (centre) and her husband Lee, whose son Ji-han was killed during the Halloween crowd crush in Itaewon on Oct 29 last year, crying as they stand with their daughter Ga-young in front of a cabinet containing the ossuary for Ji-han’s remains during a remembrance ceremony at a charnel house in Goyang on the first anniversary of his death. — AFP
A year after losing her son in a deadly crush that killed nearly 160 people in Seoul, Cho Mi-eun feels her sadness and anger at the tragedy have only deepened, exacerbated by a lack of answers as to what went wrong that night.
Last year, Cho’s 24-year-old son Lee Ji-han was among the tens of thousands of people – most of them in their 20s and 30s – who were out to enjoy post-pandemic Halloween celebrations in the South Korean capital’s Itaewon district on Oct 29.
The revelry quickly turned to panic, however, as a huge mass of people poured into a narrow, sloping alleyway between bars and clubs, the weight of their bodies and a lack of effective crowd control leaving more than 150 crushed to death.
“As time goes by, my sadness only deepens, my longing grows, and my anger also seems to deepen,” Cho said after visiting her son at the charnel house where his remains are kept.
In the days immediately after Ji-han’s death, Cho and her husband dedicated themselves to leading protests demanding answers for how and why the tragedy occurred.
It was only four months later, Cho says, that she realised she was suffering from depression because she had not taken the time to mourn her son, or even to visit his remains at the charnel house.
Now, three times a week, Cho cooks Ji-han’s favourite dishes, hops on a bus and rides the 53 stops to the charnel house, where she sits until it closes at 6pm.
United in grief: People attending a vigil in Seoul yesterday to mark the first anniversary of the tragic crowd crush that killed 159 people during Halloween celebrations in the Itaewon nightlife area a year ago. — AFP
“I felt I should be here with my child so that he wouldn’t feel completely alone,” she said, sobbing.
A police probe into the disaster found massive failures in planning, and a botched and delayed response to the unfolding catastrophe.
But it stopped short of assigning blame to any top officials, and no senior figures were fired or resigned over the disaster.
“Our kids were just walking down the street. They called the police for help and even screamed that they were going to die, but why did no one go?” Cho said.
This year, Halloween festivities in South Korea have been subdued, with the public largely discouraged from celebrating the event.
Cho said last year’s deadly disaster should not stop young people from going out and enjoying themselves.
“Even if 159 beautiful lives were lost on that street, it wasn’t their fault that they went there, so I think young people today also have the right to enjoy the festivities”, she said.
It is the government that should pay more attention to protect people, Cho added.
In recent months, Cho has been focusing on spending the time to mourn her son – but the process is not easy.
“What’s most sad and strange to me right now is that I remember Ji-han’s face and body, I can feel his body temperature when I held him in my arms in the emergency room, but I don’t remember his eyes,” she said.
“The look in my son’s eyes. I think that’s the hardest thing to bear because I can’t remember those beautiful, clear eyes.” — AFP
