A North Korean Father Risks Everything for Family | Doohyun’s Story
I lived in North Korea for over 20 years, and for much of that time, I believed my life was normal. I grew up in a big city by the river. When the wind blew, I could smell the water on the breeze, and on holidays, I played along the banks with my friends.
The river ran along the border between North Korea and China. I could see across the water into a different world–one where cars lined the streets, and buildings stretched high into the sky.
But I didn’t realize that life should be different, until the day they took my father away.
My father was a great businessman. He provided for our family despite being forcibly discharged from the military when his Minister of Defense was executed by Kim Il Sung. Labeled as a “traitor,” he was banned from decent jobs and opportunities.
Still, my father was a clever man and found success within the private market system that many North Koreans rely on to survive. Until one day, the police came to investigate him.
Without reason or warning, my father was arrested and imprisoned. They tortured him for a year. When he was released, my father weighed only 66 pounds.
Even after surviving the unimaginable, he was defiant. He wrote 20 pages of complaints to the Central Party about the human rights abuses he endured. My family was terrified of the consequences, but we couldn’t stop him. He fought for his voice to be heard.
On a warm Spring day, a Mercedes-Benz, license plate number 216, arrived at our home. February 16th was Kim Jong Il’s birthday, and cars with this number were only given to his closest aides. My father spoke with the man for hours about his letter. The man apologized and promised something like this wouldn’t happen again. This gave us a bit of hope for the future – for the possibility of change.
But the man left for Pyongyang. And then the police returned. I never saw my father again.
For two years, my family and I lived in unknowing agony, receiving no news on my father. Eventually, we heard from my father’s friend, who was a police officer, that he had passed away in prison.
At the very least, we wanted to send him off properly, so we asked that same friend how we could get my father’s body. Three days later, he returned. He told us they would not return my father’s body. My father had been sentenced to eight years in prison. He’d passed away after two. He still had six more years to serve – as a dead body. As a corpse.
For the first time I wondered whether this was the way normal people lived.
In 2009 I decided to escape from North Korea. Life had become near impossible for me after my father’s death, and I continued to face discrimination due to our family’s status in society.
By then, I had been married to my wife, Jiyeon, for two years. Most of our relationship before marriage was through the phone, because we lived far apart, and traveling in North Korea is difficult. So we called each other every night and talked for hours.
Now, I didn’t know if I was going somewhere she would never be able to reach. I told her it was a business trip. Two weeks. I’ll just be gone for two weeks.
She still cried at the train station, thinking about those two weeks. I couldn’t cry with her because then she would know the truth. So I boarded the train without a word, and watched it take me away from her.
From the moment I escaped North Korea, it felt like I was being chased by a grim reaper. There were multiple close-calls where I felt death breathing down my neck.
I was once hiding in a corn field near the Chinese border. Lying on my stomach, I watched soldiers patrol the area when suddenly, one of them walked towards me. It was too late to run or hide.
I had brought poison with me in case something like this happened - I knew it would be better to kill myself rather than be captured. But as I prepared to take the poison, I thought of my wife. I thought about how she would never know what happened to me.
In that moment of sheer terror, I heard the sound of water. The soldier stood right beside me but he hadn’t seen me. He had only walked over to relieve himself. For the next few minutes, I couldn’t move. The soldier had left, but my body held onto the terror of that moment. I remained hunched and hurried for the rest of the journey.
Eventually, I made it safely to South Korea. I started working as soon as possible – 12 hour days to pay back the broker fee, and save up money for my wife’s escape. My schedule was just working and sleeping, working and sleeping. It was hard, but for the first time in a long time, I had hope.
I was able to find a broker who put me in contact with my wife. It had been ten months since I’d defected at that point – ten months of her not knowing whether I was dead or alive. The call couldn’t be made in the city because the signal could be intercepted, so my wife and the broker hiked to the top of a mountain.
When we heard each other’s voices again, all we could do was cry. But we didn’t have much time, and so I asked her, you’re coming, right?
She said she was.
On December 27th, 2011, Jiyeon crossed the river to escape North Korea on the same route that I took.
As soon as my wife arrived in South Korea, I went to meet her. I was so excited. I couldn’t stop crying. When my wife came into the room, she was crying too – but do you know what’s the first thing she did when she saw me?
She punched me – crying, calling me a liar. And I deserved it.
We live in Utah now with our two beautiful sons. We go fishing, camping, and enjoy the outdoors together. Every time I see them, I realize I’m living in a different world, one where we can finally dream and decide our own future.
This is the life I’ve made for my children. This is the life my father envisioned for me and for all North Koreans when he made his act of defiance. My father died fighting for his voice to be heard – and now, finally, he’ll be heard by the world.
Doohyun risked everything to create a future where his family could live together in freedom. Their story isn’t unique - there are many more North Koreans waiting and hoping for the day when they can reunite with loved ones. Help make freedom part of every North Korean’s story.
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Since resettling in the United States, Doohyun has completed his undergraduate studies and now works for a North Korean human rights organization. He considers helping the North Korean people to be his life’s mission, continuing his father’s legacy.
Chuseok for North Koreans | No Way Home for the Holidays
Autumn is a significant season for many people and cultures around the world. It’s a period of transition and reflection, gratitude for the days gone by, and celebration of the harvest.
In both North and South Korea, this time of year is celebrated with Chuseok, or the mid-autumn festival. Also known as “Korean Thanksgiving,” it’s a major holiday that predates the division of the peninsula. Chuseok is observed on the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar, when the harvest moon shines brightest. Traditionally, people return to their ancestral hometowns to gather with family, share a variety of delicious foods, and pay respects to their ancestors.
But for North Korean refugees, there is no going back. Holidays like Chuseok can be a bittersweet time, one of both gratitude for a life in freedom and grief over being unable to celebrate with family still inside North Korea.
“The first Chuseok in the US felt very empty and lonely. It was just me and my two-year-old daughter, Mia, back then. It didn’t feel like a holiday. I had multiple emotions at the same time. Loneliness, emptiness… there were so many feelings that I couldn’t even put into words.“
– Holly, escaped North Korea in 2013
Chuseok celebrations have evolved to look a little different in North versus South Korea, and even in countries like the US where the Korean diaspora have resettled.
Chuseok Traditions in South Korea
In South Korea, Chuseok is considered the largest and most important holiday of the year. It’s celebrated over three days, during which a “national migration” takes place as people all over the country travel to their hometowns or to go sightseeing. Tickets for planes, trains, and buses are sold out months in advance, and freeways are packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic during the holiday period.
On the morning of Chuseok, families hold a memorial service for their ancestors at home, known as charye (차례). A table of food is prepared as an offering, typically featuring rice cakes, fresh fruits and vegetables, meat dishes, and the favorite meals of deceased loved ones. Families will also visit ancestral gravesites, a custom known as seongmyo (성묘), to pay their respects and tend to the graves.
From the ancestral table to large family meals, food is a central part of Chuseok celebrations. The defining dish of this holiday is seongpyeon (송편), a chewy, sweet, and nutty half-moon shaped rice cake steamed in fresh pine needles. It’s traditionally made with rice from the year’s harvest, finely milled into flour. Preparing seongpyon becomes a family activity as each piece is shaped by hand and filled with red bean paste, toasted sesame seeds, or chestnuts.
Other holiday foods include pajeon(파전), a crispy, savory pancake made with green onions; galbijjim (갈비찜), sweet and savory braised short ribs; and japchae(잡채), glass noodles stir-fried with meat and vegetables.
How Chuseok is Celebrated in North Korea
In North Korea, Chuseok is just a one-day celebration. While it is considered a key traditional holiday, its importance has been minimized relative to national holidays like the birthdays of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il, and the anniversary of the founding of the Worker’s Party.
On both traditional and national holidays, North Koreans are urged to visit the statues of Kim family leaders or the Kumsan Palace of the Sun in Pyongyang, where the bodies of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il lie.
It is much less common for widespread travel to take place during Chuseok due to severe travel restrictions and poor transportation infrastructure. However, these constraints have also made it so that generations of North Koreans remain in close proximity to their hometowns and relatives. For Chuseok, people gather with their nearby family members. Just like in South Korea, they’ll prepare special foods as offerings for charye, and then visit ancestral grave sites to pay respects.
After ancestral rites, festivities become a community affair with traditional food and folk games shared amongst family, friends, and neighbors. Songpyeon is also a holiday staple, but the North Korean version is made with a minced meat and vegetable filling, and are twice as big as South Korean ones. Common folk games are yutnori (윷놀이), a board game, and ssireum (씨름), or Korean wrestling.
Holly & Mia: A Legacy of Freedom
It’s been over a decade since Holly left her hometown in North Korea. But whenever she makes pajeon (파전), it takes her right back to her childhood—sitting by the frying pan and watching her mom cook, eagerly awaiting a taste. “Pa”(파) means green onion and “jeon”(전) refers to foods that have been pan-fried or battered. There are many varieties of “jeon,” made with everything from potatoes to zucchini, seafood, kimchi, and more.
Holly saw her mom cook this dish countless times in North Korea. It was an inexpensive, everyday staple, but also an essential part of the holidays. Every year for Chuseok, the mouthwatering aroma of oil and batter would draw everyone to the kitchen, where a colorful assortment of jeon was being prepared.
Holly now lives halfway across the world from North Korea, but every year during Chuseok, she sets out an offering table for charye. For hours, she prepares foods like pajeon with great care, remembering and honoring her parents and loved ones, who she can’t be with for the holidays.
In 2016, Holly reached freedom through LiNK’s rescue networks with one-year-old Mia in her arms.
Mia is now at an age where she’s able to understand some of the things her mother went through. Holly has begun to open up more about her life in North Korea, and does her best to keep their small family connected to their Korean heritage. She takes Mia to Korean language school on Sundays, and makes an effort to celebrate cultural holidays, like Chuseok. What can’t be put into words, Holly communicates through food—their dinner table is always full of delicious Korean cooking.
In 2024, Holly received her US citizenship, nine years after her resettlement!
"When I obtained my US citizenship, it felt like my escape journey was finally complete. I cried and felt so grateful to the US for giving me a new life. My greatest happiness is seeing Mia have a childhood free of the painful hardships that defined mine.”
These days, Chuseok has become a lively gathering with the many friends and neighbors they’ve met over the years! Holly gathers with other Koreans in the community, and they go all-out preparing delicious seongpyeon and pajeon. She takes great pride in wearing traditional hanboks with Mia, and explaining each dish when guests arrive. The festivities always continue long after dinner, with Korean games like jegichagi, a version of hacky sack, and yutnori, a board game.
Living in the US, Holly and Mia have been introduced to new traditions too. Just a month after Chuseok, their community gathers again to celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey and pumpkin pie, in true American fashion.
Holly still has hope that in her lifetime, she’ll be able to celebrate Chuseok with all her family and bring Mia to visit her hometown in North Korea.
We’re working towards the day when families don’t have to be separated. To date, LiNK has rescued almost 1400 North Korean refugees and their children, reuniting over 500 people with their families in freedom. As we’re helping North Koreans, like Holly, build new lives, we’re also leading initiatives to increase change inside North Korea, through advocacy, information access, and more.
Become a monthly donor and create a long-lasting legacy of freedom. Your support will rescue North Korean refugees waiting for their chance to escape right now, and fuel work that is increasing change and opening inside North Korea.
