burnt them

. She climbed to the roof, recovered the documents and burnt them in her cooking

fire.

In the morning after my father's arrest, the Christians of Bongwha-ri met at Myongsin School and prayed

for the immediate release of my father. People from Pyongyang and Kangdong rushed to the Pyongyang

police station and petitioned for my father's release. Grandpa heard of Father's impending court trial and

sent Uncle to the police station to find out what could be done to help Father. Grandpa was ready to sell

everything he owned to hire an attorney to defend Father in court. Father would not let Grandpa do such

a thing. Father told Uncle - "Attorneys use their mouth for living and so do I. Why would you waste

money, that you don't have, to hire an attorney?"

My father was tried three times in Pyongyang. At each court session, Father defended himself by saying -

"I am a Korean and I have the right to love Korea and work for Korea. I have committed no crime and

you have no authority to try me." After attempting three court trials, Father was convicted and sentenced

to a prison term.

Soon after my father's arrest, Uncle Hyong Rok wanted us to move back to Mangying-dae and came with

his brother-in-law, Kang Young Suk, to fetch us. Mother refused to move and told them that she wanted

to remain at Bonghwa through the winter. Mother wanted to maintain contact with the Association

members and other nationalists who might show up for messages. In the following spring, Mother

moved us back to Mangyong-dae. By that time, she had managed to cover the base for Father. Grandpa

and Mother's father came to get us with an ox-cart.

I was much depressed that Spring and Summer. Every time I asked Mother when Father would be back,

she would tell me that he would be back in a few days. But days went by with Father still gone. One day,

Mother took me to a play ground located at Mangyong Peak and got on a swing holding me on her lap.

She told me: "Sung Ju - Your dad is not coming back, even after the ice in Taedong River over there is

all melted gone. Your dad fought for Korea and he has committed no crime. You will have to grow up

fast and get even with your dad's enemies. You must become a hero and recover our lost nationhood." I

swore to her that I would follow her wish.

Mother had visited Father in prison secretly several times. She did not say a thing about her prison

visits. One day, Mother took me to her parents' house in Palgol on the premise of picking up some

cotton, but her real intent was to visit Father in prison with me. Mom's mother insisted that Mom should

not take me to the prison, because I was too young. Seeing Father caged up in a dark prison cell would

do much harm to my mindset, Grandma argued. I was seven at the time. But Mother persisted and

prevailed.

Upon crossing the wooden bridge over Botong River, I noticed prison right away. No one had told me

what a prison looked like, but I could tell it was the prison from its dark color and its stark, austere

surroundings. The prison was indeed awe and fear inspiring, just being there would send chills running

through any body. Its heavy iron gates, walls, watch towers, barbed wires and armed gourds in dark

uniforms and eyes indicated that it was a place of death and deadly venom.  (PAGE 25)