A year after Itaewon crush: Parents seek lost children in dreams - and answers from authorities

SEOUL - “Mum, I’m home.” That was how Madam Sunny Kang’s daughter would greet her each night the 25-year-old came home.

She is still longing to hear those words, even though her only child, Ms Lee Sang-eun, has been dead for a year.

“It is just those few words, I am not asking for more,” the grieving mother, 53, told The Straits Times.

Yearning for her child, Madam Kang tried sleeping on her daughter’s bed on her birthday in June this year, hoping to dream of her, but to no avail.

It was only in August, when the mother was sick in bed with Covid-19, that she finally heard the words she had been waiting for.

“She came to my dream and she said, ‘Mum, I’m home’. So I said to her, ‘This is how you finally come to me?’” she recalled, as her eyes brimmed with tears.

Ms Lee Sang-eun (above, left) was one of the 159 people who died in a crush of partygoers in the clubbing district of Itaewon in Seoul some time after 10pm on Oct 29, 2022. Crowds surging in opposite directions in a narrow alleyway caused some revellers to fall, while others got stacked on top of them. Most of the victims died from compression asphyxiation, or suffocation.

The incident exposed gaps in South Korea’s crowd control measures and also raised questions about why the authorities had failed to step in early to disperse the swelling crowds, despite calls made by witnesses to the police from as early as four hours before the incident.

A police investigation, which concluded in January, attributed the crowd crush to a lack of preventive measures and poor emergency response. The lack of details, as well as the delay in holding any individuals directly responsible so far, has pained and enraged the families of the victims.

Ahead of the Halloween weekend starting Oct 27, the government has announced a number of safety measures to prevent another deadly incident. In addition to emergency services on standby, Seoul police announced that more than 1,000 policemen will be deployed for crowd control in clubbing hot spots such as Itaewon, Hongdae and Gangnam.

Seoul city has also rolled out a crowd monitoring system using surveillance cameras installed in the streets. If overcrowding is detected, the police, fire department and disaster management centres will be notified immediately.

But for the parents of victims, such measures have come a year too late.

Madam Kang, who works in financial services, remembers 2022’s Halloween as if it just happened yesterday.

She and her husband had gone to eastern Gangwon province for an overnight hiking trip on Oct 29, a Saturday, while their daughter had planned to go to Itaewon that night with a friend.

Ms Lee Sang-eun had just passed an examination to practise accountancy in the United States and was getting ready to look for a job there.

She last texted her parents in their family group chat at 9.20pm, telling them to have a good time and come home safely. Madam Kang shared photos of autumn foliage with a chirpy “See you tomorrow, my dear daughter”, before going to bed.

The next morning, when she turned on the TV, she found it flooded with news of the Itaewon tragedy. Alarmed, she called her daughter’s cellphone. It was answered by a police officer, who told her the phone was among the items collected by the police from Itaewon.

“I thought perhaps she had lost her mobile phone, but was in a safe place,” said Madam Kang, who rang her neighbours to check on her apartment. The neighbours found no one at home.

The panicked parents rushed back to Seoul, only to receive a phone call from the police at around noon, confirming their greatest fear.

Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we had not gone away…

Madam Sunny Kang, whose daughter died in the Itaewon crowd crush while she and her husband were away on a weekend hiking trip

The couple have stopped going on hikes and overnight trips. They make it a point to be home every night by 11pm - the time their daughter usually returned home.

Every night, Madam Kang sits on her daughter’s bed, waiting. “Because you never know when I might just hear the words, ‘Mum, I’m home’ again,” she said.

Mr Lee Jung-min was watching a football match on TV when he received a call from the fiance of his daughter, Ms Lee Joo-young.

In between hysterical sobs, the young man urged Mr Lee and his family to go to Itaewon immediately but could not explain why.

I thought perhaps there was a traffic accident. Never did we expect that a disaster had occurred in Itaewon.

Mr Lee Jung-min, father of an Itaewon crowd crush victim, on his first thoughts upon hearing that something had happened

Arriving at Itaewon subway station, he, his wife and their older son witnessed the chaos of ambulances being blocked by crowds and emergency responders frantically trying to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on people lying motionless on the ground.

Seized with worry, Mr Lee pushed through the crowds to get to the foot of the alley. Inside an empty shop in a vacant building, he saw his 28-year-old daughter lying on the floor, while her fiance repeatedly pumped her chest. On the first floor of the building were more than 30 bodies.

Mr Lee tried to enter the shop to help but was stopped by the police, who told him that his daughter would be moved soon. Mr Lee then followed the ambulance, thinking that she was being taken to hospital.

But when he arrived instead at a nearby gymnasium that was converted into a makeshift morgue for the victims, Mr Lee knew that his daughter was gone. “I was almost in a state of exhaustion, and it was difficult to come to terms with the reality.”

The family was not allowed to go inside and see her despite their protests, and it was only the next afternoon that Mr Lee received a call to retrieve his child’s body from a hospital morgue in Uijeongbu, 22km north-east of Seoul.

He has not been able to forgive the authorities for barring him from being with his daughter in her final moments.

“ At the gymnasium, despite us providing proof that we were her family, they moved our daughter to yet another location so far away, which made us very angry. We still don’t understand why the authorities did that to us, and we continue to question the government about their actions, but we haven’t received any answers,” he said.

A total of 12 officials, including Yongsan District Mayor Park Hee-young and former Yongsan Police Station chief Lee Im-jae, have been indicted on charges of negligence, but the cases have yet to go on trial. Itaewon is located in Yongsan ward.

An attempt to impeach Interior and Safety Minister Lee Sang-min to hold him accountable for the crowd crush was overturned by the highest Constitutional Court in July.

The lack of answers and accountability is “fuelling our anger and deepening our concern that similar incidents may happen again”, said Mr Lee, who is in the construction business.

He chairs the Association of Families of Itaewon Disaster Victims, which represents some 210 family members of 110 victims.

They have only one goal – to uncover the truth of what happened that night.

“We want to understand why our children, who were attending a festival, lost their lives in a single moment,” said Mr Lee.

For the past year, the group has been pushing for special legislation to launch an independent inquiry into what went wrong and to hold those responsible accountable for their actions before the end of the year.

The urgency is due to the National Assembly’s term ending next May. All pending Bills that are not passed by then will be considered redundant.

The Bill is also caught in a political tussle as the ruling party believes that the opposition is pushing the legislation in a veiled attempt to attack the Yoon Suk-yeol administration.

This was not a random accident; it was something that could have been prevented to ensure that no one died. The biggest question is why so many young people had to become victims.

Mr Lee Jung-min, who chairs the Association of Families of Itaewon Disaster Victims, on the need for accountability for the accident

The crowd crush was the deadliest human disaster in South Korea since the Sewol ferry disaster in 2014, which killed 304 people, including 250 high school students aged 16 to 17 who were on a school trip.

To keep the memory of the Itaewon tragedy alive in people’s minds, the families and their supporters have walked each Saturday in October from the victims’ memorial altar at Seoul City Hall to popular landmarks, such as Namsan Tower and Changdeokgung Palace. It is a distance of 10.29km, in remembrance of Oct 29.

Along the way, they have distributed fliers about their fight for answers.

On Oct 29, the families will hold a multi-religion prayer service at the Itaewon site before marching to City Hall for a memorial service.

Knowing what exactly happened that night is key to helping families move on, said Mr Lee, adding: “Otherwise we are just alive but not truly living.”

Madam Ahn Young-song, 48, who lost her 17-year-old son Kim Dong-gyu in the tragedy, understands how he feels.

Never mind that I can no longer sleep at night, and never mind that work is hard to bear these days. What is most painful for a mother, is to not know what caused the death of her child.

Madam Ahn Young-song, mother of a victim of the Itaewon crowd crush, on the need for answers from the authorities

Madam Ahn, who runs an eatery, has not been able to meet any of her friends since her son’s funeral.

“After I sent off my child in such a manner… I just can’t bear to answer any of their questions,” she said.

Instead, she seeks solace two or three times a week at the City Hall memorial altar, where family members and volunteers come together to keep vigil and console one another.

“Being in the same space with other bereaved family members, I feel comforted without the need to say anything,” she said.

For months, Ms Lee Joo-young’s fiance, Mr Seo Byeong-woo, would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat from nightmares about spirits closing in on him, stifling his breathing while yelling into his ear.

To calm himself down, the 32-year-old would reach for a blanket that belonged to his fiancee and wrap it around himself.

“It makes me feel like she’s hugging me… the blanket still retains her scent, which I miss very much,” he said, his voice breaking as he choked back tears.

While his nightmares have become less frequent, Mr Seo still takes antidepressants to help him sleep at night. He has counselling every three weeks.

Time has not healed his pain.

“Even though I receive a lot of support and comfort, I am not feeling better. In fact, I feel worse,” he told ST at the memorial altar at City Hall, where he frequently goes to pay respects to his fiancee.

I lost someone very precious to me that night, and she was just right next to me. I think it is harder because I feel so sorry for not being able to protect her.

Mr Seo Byeong-woo, a survivor of the Itaewon crowd crush, on why he feels worse one year after the catastrophe

Last Oct 29 started out as a happy day for the young couple, who were engaged for three months. Their wedding was planned for Sept 10, 2023.

After a meeting with their wedding planner, they headed to Itaewon for dinner and to join in the Halloween festivities.

Mr Seo recalled being trapped in the surging crowd, pushed “from the left, right, front and back”. While waiting for help, Mr Seo felt as though he was drifting in and out of consciousness, and when he finally came to, he saw that his fiancee’s eyes were shut.

“I shook her, yelled in her ear and splashed water on her face, but she would not wake up,” he said, adding that he kept on performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation on her even though he knew that she was not breathing any more.

Even if there was just a 1 per cent chance of her reviving, I would keep trying.

Mr Seo Byeong-woo, a survivor of the Itaewon crowd crush, on how he tried to “wake” his fiancee, who was with him that night

Guilt and regret still eat away at him every day, he admitted, adding that he is simply living day to day and cannot bring himself to think about the future.

As he harbours suicidal thoughts from time to time, both his and his fiancee’s family have rallied around him and urged him to keep living.

His elder sister makes it a point to go with him to his counselling sessions as she does not want him to be alone, he added.

Every Sunday, the two families travel two hours to visit Ms Lee Joo-young’s niche in Pocheon, north-east of Seoul. They have dinner together and end the day visiting the memorial altar at City Hall.

“Joo-young’s family tells me that my not giving up on life is also important to them,” he said. “So I will continue to hold on. For the sake of everyone around me, I just have to keep going.”

At a recent meeting with other survivors, nothing was said about what happened that night, but frustrations were vented about the authorities, said Mr Seo.

The truth is not being properly investigated. No one has come forward to take responsibility for that day, everyone keeps saying it is not their fault. Is it our fault then?

Mr Seo Byeong-woo, a survivor of the Itaewon crowd crush, on the need for accountability for the incident

He thinks many survivors have suppressed their memories of that day so that they can move on with their lives.

On Internet forums, some survivors say they are no longer friends with the people they went to Itaewon with so that they are not reminded of the pain from the incident.

One survivor wrote that she struggled with the trauma in the past year, developing a phobia of crowded places and having anxiety attacks at the sound of ambulances.

Those who narrowly escaped death are not the only ones suffering.

One year on, more than 1,300 firemen who were dispatched to the scene are still reeling from the psychological impact and continue to receive treatment, according to government data.

An unnamed firefighter in his 30s told local media that he still suffers headaches whenever he recalls the moment “where dozens of bodies were tangled together”.

Once a lively shopping, dining and clubbing hub frequented by foreigners and locals alike, the Itaewon district remains subdued and quiet, with most customers yet to return after a year.

In the narrow alley where the crowd crush happened, only two shops are open for business.

The alley does not see much human traffic these days, except for a few curious passers-by who stop to look at the post-it messages on a memorial wall near the entrance.

A small entryway leads down to Madam Kim Soon-ok’s basement shop selling clothing and accessories. She had closed early on the day of the incident, when she noticed the crowd was made up of revellers, not shoppers, and, like many others, learnt what happened on the news that night.

Madam Kim, 58, has cried many times watching news videos of the tragedy.

With sales having fallen to worse than during the Covid-19 pandemic, she closes two hours early these days. Madam Kim fears she may not be able to stay open another year.

Now we have sales only once or twice a week. It’s a very difficult situation.

Fashion store owner Kim Soon-ok on how the Itaewon crowd crush has affected her business

At the convenience store next door, an elderly part-timer was sitting on the shop’s small terrace watching videos on his mobile phone.

“Our business was doing well when it opened in July last year, but business dropped drastically after the crowd crush,” he said.

Along the main Itaewon thoroughfare, “for rent” signs are pasted prominently on the glass panes of empty shopfronts.

Many shop owners, however, are reluctant to talk about the poor business when the loss of lives is uppermost in people’s minds.

Antique shop owner Kim Chang Hyun, 61, used to walk past the alley on his commute home. He told ST he cannot bear to go that way now.

“It’s too sad. The people who died – they were the same age as my son and daughter,” he said.

Property agent Lee Jumi, 50, who has lived and worked in Itaewon for the past 18 years, said she has never seen it so bad. Many can count on only weekend shoppers.

“It is hard for shops – especially those in the main street with higher rents – to survive on just the weekend crowd. You won’t make enough to break even your expenses,” she said.

For days after the tragedy, businesses stayed shuttered out of respect for the victims and also out of unease over such a tragic incident.

“But because the policemen doing investigations needed to eat, the neighbourhood army stew restaurant eventually opened up to feed them. That eventually got the other shops and restaurants to start reopening too,” she said.

Landlords have been reluctant to drop rents, she said, betting that Itaewon’s appeal will return. And there are signs that business at restaurants and clubs seems to be picking up more quickly than at retail shops.

Mr Chris Tuter, the owner of Braai Republic, a South African restaurant, said that there was a “massive impact” for nearly four months after the tragedy, but business is recovering.

He counts himself lucky that he has a regular clientele but said some places that were still recovering from the pandemic were doubly impacted by the tragedy.

South Korea’s Ministry of SMEs and Start-ups (MSS) is trying to help. MSS Minister Lee Young told ST that her ministry set up a one-stop support centre to address issues from business owners and offer financial aid.

Since March 2023, the ministry has rolled out initiatives including street exhibitions, pop-up stores and social media campaigns to draw crowds back to Itaewon.

They are working to make Itaewon a destination where “people from all over the world can experience new content while also remembering and offering condolences to its past”, said Ms Lee.

As much as Itaewon merchants look forward to recovery from the crowd crush, they know that their struggles cannot compare with the pain of those who lost loved ones.

I know of families and friends affected by the tragedy. How could I talk about the state of my business when they are going through so much more?

A vet, whose clinic is situated on the main Itaewon road, on how he is coping one year after the crowd crush