Anchor: It’s been 80 years since the Korean Peninsula was split in two after liberation from Japanese colonial rule. The Korean War started 75 years ago, leading to continued division and leaving more than 100-thousand Koreans separated from loved ones on opposite sides of the heavily fortified inter-Korean border. On Saturday, just before the Chuseok holiday, South Korea observes Separated Families Day to support these people.
David Lee has this report.

Report: South Koreans who remember life before the Demilitarized Zone(DMZ) are dwindling in number, and most are over the age of 80. Today, amid strained ties between the two Koreas, 35-thousand people in this situation are running out of hope of someday being reunited with long-lost family members in the North. 

For the third year, the country commemorates Separated Families Day in recognition of their pain. 

Organizations like One Ten Million Separated Families represent South Koreans who still dream of finding their loved ones. 

Stories like that of Bae Ki-yeol, who crossed the border into South Korea at the age of 23, are not uncommon. 

The 96-year-old still remembers the hometown she cherished.

[Sound bite: Bae Ki-yeol, 96 - separated from family by the Korean War (Korean-English)]
“We’ve always hoped for unification and the possibility of going back (home). I believe all ten million or so separated families have thought the same thing. Everyone longs to go back, yearns for their hometown, and remembers playing with friends there, going to school. There’s not a single person who doesn’t think about these things."
"I’ve given up on the hope of ever meeting my family in the North. I’m in my later years now, so I’ve learned that holding onto that hope only causes me pain and heartache.”

Other South Koreans have taken part in reunions with lost family members in the North. 

Of the 20 such events organized by the governments of the two Koreas, the last one took place in 2018 at a resort on North Korea’s Mount Geumgang.

But since that time, escalating inter-Korean tensions have put the family reunions to a stop. 

For 96-year-old Pyon Seung-sok, it was his U.S. citizenship that allowed him to see his family again in 2005. 

With assistance from the Korean American National Coordinating Council, he reconnected with his older sister and his cousins.

He also saw his daughter for the first time. 

[Sound bite: Pyon Seung-sok, 96 - separated from family by the Korean War (Korean-English)]
“A total of seven people came out, including my daughter and her family, my older sister and my younger cousins. I asked them, ‘Tell me how you’re living.’ They lied to me, saying, ‘The Supreme Leader feeds us and teaches us, so we’re living well.’ I told them to be straight with me, but they wouldn’t say a word. I said, ‘I know you are blatantly lying. What’s the need to lie even to me?’ But I just left it at that. I gave some of the money I brought, and feeling sorry for them, I even gave them the suit I was wearing. In fact, I gave them everything that was on me. The only things I brought back with me were the clothes I was wearing and a toothbrush. I had to give them everything I had.”

But after two more visits to North Korea, Pyon eventually stopped receiving letters from his family. He still thinks about the last letter he sent them.

[Sound bite: Pyon Seung-sok, 96 - separated from family by the Korean War (Korean-English)]
“We exchanged letters until 2013. But later that year, a letter I sent came back to me, and there’s been no news from my family since. So, I don’t know what happened to them at all. I don’t even know if the children are all dead. The first time I went there, I recorded a bunch of South Korean songs on a cassette tape and brought it over. I told them to listen to the songs, but later I heard on a TV program that if they get caught listening to South Korean songs, they’ll be executed. So I regretted giving them the tapes. I know I don’t have much time left, as I’m already in my 90s. So I’m just living like this, my heart slowly rotting away.”

Jang Man-soon, chairman of the Committee for One Ten Million Separated Families, says that for many, the dream now is to set foot in their hometowns one last time. 

Because time is running out fast, his organization has appealed to the United Nations, the International Committee of the Red Cross, and countries with embassies in North Korea, such as Sweden and Poland. 

President Lee Jae Myung has also pledged to enhance humanitarian assistance and improve policies for separated families. 

He has made friendly gestures toward North Korea since the start of his presidency, and at last month’s UN General Assembly address, he said his administration intends to put an end to “unnecessary inter-Korean military tensions and hostile acts.”

As the Chuseok holiday starts, Jang remembers when he used to follow his father to the border with North Korea to perform ancestral rites for a grandfather he’s never seen.

[Sound bite: Jang Man-soon, 66 - second-generation member of a family separated by the Korean War (Korean-English)]
“During Chuseok or Seollal, there was a way to go inside the DMZ to pay respects. So when that happened, we would go all the way to the end, to places like Dorasan Station, or for my father’s hometown of Gunnae-myeon in Jangdan-gun, there’s a mountain there. We would go halfway up the mountainside, set up the ancestral altar we’d brought, and perform the rites. And looking in the direction of my father’s old hometown, my father — a very sturdy man — would get teary-eyed because he didn’t know the whereabouts of his own father. I always remember that look in his eyes, ever since I was little. And it was those kinds of memories that led me to take up activism as a second-generation member of a separated family.”

It’s easy to forget that there are still members of society who can neither see nor hear from their families this Chuseok. 

They are still holding onto hope, but that hope seems to fade with every year that passes.  
David Lee, reporting for KBS World Radio News.