At a subway station near Danwon High School, a series of concerts remembering the victims of the recent ferry accident has been held at six every evening since April 20th.

Every surface of the plaza near the subway station is plastered with prayers for the dead and missing passengers, and yellow ribbons tied to the fences and poles flutter in the wind in rhythm with the comforting songs played at the concert.

On the morning of April 16th, 2014, a 6,800-ton ferry on its way to Jeju Island from Incheon was carrying more than 460 passengers when it sank in waters off Jindo Island in South Jeolla Province. As of the morning of May 13th, the death toll reached 275, with 29 passengers still unaccounted for. Korea has been in deep mourning ever since this unspeakable tragedy took place.

It took the tilting ferry two hours and 20 minutes to capsize completely. Most of the passengers were Danwon High School juniors on their school trip to Jeju Island. They must have embarked on the journey excitedly looking forward to having a great time on the scenic island and making cherished memories with their friends. Their parents had rushed to the school upon hearing the news of the accident.



(Woman 1) I only hope that he’s alive. His mother had fainted, so I came here instead. She bought him new shoes for the trip. He loved those shoes. Isn’t the phone working? He must be inside the cabin with all the other students. He called his mother at 9:20 and said that he was told to put on a life vest and stay in the room. I think he’s still in the ship.
(Man 1) She told me the ship was sinking, and that she had her life jacket on and was lying on her side. She said that she would come back alive and that’s when the phone went dead.
(Woman 2) My sister tried for 10 years to have my nephew. It’s okay even if he got hurt. I only hope that he will come back to us alive.

The names of their children, who promised to come back alive, who relayed what was happening inside the ship through their mobile phones, never made it to the list of rescued passengers.

The parents could not wait any longer at the school, so they traveled six hours to Paengmok Harbor of Jindo Island, near the accident site. Koreans all over the nation were also devastated by the news.

(Woman 1) I can’t describe my feelings. I’m just praying for miracles. I just hope that everyone will survive.
(Woman 2) My hands are shaking. I can’t work and I can’t sleep. I hope they will be in their parents’ arms when I wake up.
(Man 1) I can’t understand why such things happen. I’m sad and furious. I want the family members to have hope. I hope they will all get rescued tomorrow.

But dashing everyone’s hopes, the death toll kept rising. The tallies of the passengers, the missing and the rescued kept changing and the incompetence of authorities plunged the families into deeper despair. Divers try desperately to search for and rescue any surviving passengers, but the strong currents and bad weather hindered their best efforts. Here’s Mr. Hwang Dae-shik, chief of rescue operations at Jindo.

It’s really difficult, because we are not seeing any results. What’s the use of doing our best when we can’t rescue even a single person? I’m ashamed as a rescuer and resentful.

Misinformation and the rising death toll intensified the pain and shock of the bereaved families. Every time a passenger was found dead, the families gathered at the Jindo Stadium broke out in loud sobs.

People who had watched this incredible disaster unfold on TV could not sit idly at home. So they went down to Paengmok Harbor in Jindo to help prepare meals, do laundry, and comfort the grieving families.

(Woman 1) I came down early yesterday morning. We start serving breakfast at 6, but we are running a little late today. I also prepare lunch and dinner.
(Woman 2) I’m cooking zucchinis and potatoes, and cutting up radishes to make soup. It’s more depressed here than what I’ve seen on TV. I don’t know how I can help them.
(Man 1) I hope they will eat the meals we prepared and regain their strength.
(Man 2) I’m doing the laundry. I came here to do whatever I can.

Volunteers came from all over the country to serve meals, aid in medical care, do the cleaning, provide support to families and share their pain. But they soon realized that sharing pain is not as easy as they thought. Here’s Dr. Kim Seok-joo김석주, psychologist at Seoul National University, providing bereavement counseling at the site.

They’re very fearful, depressed, and angry. It’s a great shock to them, and it wasn’t just once. By getting the death counts wrong several times, the families have experienced both hope and despair. It’s been like that since the first day, so they have been shocked many times. The shocks keep coming even now. It’s hard for them. They feel chest pains and can’t sleep. I don’t ask them anything because they don’t want to talk about the accident. I just give them some sedatives, but some of them don’t take the drugs because they want to keep their eyes on how the situation is developing. They are not even taking cold medication.

No words in this world can comfort these suffering families. But some volunteers know the heart-rending agony of losing their loved ones.

As soon as I saw the news about the students lost in the sea, I tendered my resignation at the office and came straight down here. I lost a child five years ago, in a river. So I know what these parents are going through. I know that no words can console them. I was like that back then. I threw all the food people brought me. I used to run out early in the morning screaming. It takes time, a really long time, for the wounds to heal.

In addition to a joint memorial altar set up in Ansan, where Danwon High School is situated, 140 locations all over the nation have been turned into tribute halls for the disaster victims. The total number of visitors has topped 1.7 million as of May 13th, but people still stream in daily to mourn the deceased.

Visitors have a moment of silence for the victims, place flowers in front of their photos, say how sorry they are, and then pour out the frustration and anger that has been building inside their hearts.

(Woman 1) They must have been so scared. I came here to wish them some peace.
(Woman 2) They are younger than me, but they’re now all gone. It breaks my heart. I wish they would come back to their families.
(Woman 3) I kept crying as I watched the news, but I didn’t feel any better, so I came here. I prayed that they would be in a better place now and that we would meet some day.
(Woman 4) They are all so precious. I prayed that they would be at peace in heaven and do the things they couldn’t do here.

The memorial wall in front of the joint altar is covered with letters from all over the world – a mother living in faraway Germany, a note from a Chinese student written in perfect Korean, and letters of encouragement from Thailand. Yellow ribbons symbolizing steadfast love and homecoming flutter in the May breeze.

Twenty-eight days have already passed since the day of the tragic sinking. Most of the concerts and festivals around the country have been cancelled and ordinary Koreans have put off their trips and even stopped shopping. Divers continue to brave the rough, cold sea to find the missing passengers. The ferry accident is such an awful catastrophe that the whole nation seems to be suffering from collective post-traumatic stress disorder. Here’s Dr. Cho Sung-nam조성남, director of Eulji을지 University Gangnam Eulji Hospital to tell us more.



Since Koreans are a homogenous group, we have a strong sense of community and affection. The risk for collective trauma and depression runs high for Koreans. There is no news of progress in the rescue operations, only of rising death counts. People tend to immerse themselves in the situation and feel depressed as a group. Also, a large number of Ansan residents are family members or friends of the victims. So the unspeakable shock they received could manifest as severe depression.

Even the survivors who saw the ship fill up with water while their friends and other passengers were trapped inside are still sickened with fear and guilt. Here’s Dr. Cho Sung-nam조성남, director of Eulji을지 University Gangnam Eulji Hospital again.

Survivors also feel extreme fear and anxiety from post-traumatic stress. Instead of the relief felt at having survived the deadly accident, they feel guilty for having survived. Survivor’s guilt is felt more strongly by a person with a higher sense of responsibility. Survivors can’t forgive themselves for their powerlessness, their inability to help others. If such feelings persist for longer than a month, they could end up with a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Rescuers who put their lives on the line everyday are also susceptible to stress-induced depression. Dr. Cho Sung-nam explains why.

During operations rescuers don’t have the time or energy to realize how traumatic the whole experience is. But after it’s all over they realize the devastating nature of the disaster and break down. They feel guilty for not saving as many people as possible and angry at the whole incident. Sometimes they have nightmares and feel anxious, irritable, depressed, and furious. This is why the rescue personnel also need to be looked after.

Even now people wearing yellow ribbons light candles and pray for miracles. This is a time of national mourning and contrition. But there will also come a time for healing after a long period of waiting and grieving. Then, the pain and outrage we feel today should be harnessed to change this society so such a tragedy is never repeated.