SBS's 'Tails of Tales' (hereafter 'Kokomu') features the "Jang Trio"—Jang Hyun-sung, Jang Sung-kyu, and Jang Do-yeon—recounting stories of "that day" in history that we must never forget. For those who missed the broadcast or wish to reflect on its contents once more, SBS Entertainment News presents a comprehensive recap.
The story of "that day" to share with "you" this time is the episode
"A Murderer's Letter – Yeonghwasuk and Jaesaengwon,"
which aired on October 22. Joining as story listeners were actor Joo Hyun-young, a flagship DJ celebrating the 30th anniversary of SBS Power FM, rapper DinDin, and actor Bong Tae-gyu. (In keeping with the nature of 'Kokomu,' this review is written in an informal, conversational tone.)
▲ A Murderer's Letter
March 24, 2025. A letter arrives at the 'Kokomu' production office. Usually, the production team receives tips or fan letters saying, "I'm really enjoying the show." But the letter opened on this day is different from the usual. Here is what the letter said:
<To the Team of 'Tails of Tales'>
"First, I hope you hold no prejudice against me for being an inmate. I was sentenced to death for murder in 1990 and have lived serving a life sentence to this day. I am deeply sorry. Will my remorse and repentance ever comfort the families of the victims? I would not mind dying in this prison. Even so, I atone every single day."
-From the letter sent to the 'Kokomu' production team
The sender of the letter is Shin Kyung-ho (a pseudonym). He is an inmate who committed murder and has been serving time in prison for 36 years. Why did he send this letter?
"From 1963 to 1974, I stayed in 'that place,' received training needed to commit crimes, and wandered all over Busan committing crimes like theft and robbery. Everything started there. Though it is late, I muster the courage to write this letter to reveal the truth of that place."
-From the letter by Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
These are the letters exchanged between 'Kokomu' and Kyung-ho. It is quite a substantial stack. Contained within is what kind of life Kyung-ho lived and what horrific things happened in that place he spoke of. Today, we will follow the story by reading these letters.
Now, let's turn back the clock to the 1960s.
▲ Vagrant Shelters
The time is November 1961 in Busan. Five-year-old Kyung-ho was always curious.
"Brother, where is my dad?"
"Ah, I don't know either. What dad would you have? Nobody here has a dad."
Nobody has a father? Kyung-ho's family was somewhat different from other families. First of all, the family structure was unusual. There were only four or five adults, and about 50 children of various ages. Kyung-ho was a child growing up in an orphanage.
"I understand that on June 19, 1957, I was abandoned in a trash can at the Bujeon-dong vegetable market in Busan, rescued by a market merchant, and admitted here through the Bujeon Police Substation."
-From the letter by Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
Kyung-ho ended up here after being abandoned in a trash can right after birth. The setting is Busan in 1961. Here are photographs showing what Busan was like back then.
People who fled down to Busan to escape the Korean War built these dense shantytowns. You know Busan was the provisional capital during the Korean War, right? The city was virtually bursting at the seams with the influx of people. Refugees fleeing the war, disaster victims who lost their livelihoods, and children who lost their parents—the streets were overflowing with war orphans and vagrant children.
Do you know what "vagrant child" (buranga) means? The dictionary definition refers to a child who wanders without a fixed place to live or anyone to care for them. At the time, Busan needed places to take in these children who had nowhere to go. Where Kyung-ho was staying was a vagrant shelter—Yeonghwasuk and Jaesaengwon.
First, let's talk about the meaning behind the names. Yeonghwasuk comes from Yeong (永), forever; Hwa (華), blooming; and Suk (塾), learning place. In other words, it carries the wholesome meaning of "a learning place where flowers bloom forever." Jaesaengwon literally means a place that allows one to live life anew. The names themselves make it sound like they would guide children down the right path, right? Sometime later, a huge change occurred at Yeonghwasuk. The director changed.
"Then, when I was around six years old, a man came, and they told us to call him director. He looked terrifying, and the way he spoke was frightening, unlike the previous director."
-From the letter by Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
The director's name was Lee Soon-young. It was this person.
He was 32 years old, a retired soldier. The children were terrified of Director Lee Soon-young. He had a massive build and always wore a scowl.
"After that man called director arrived, people suddenly began dying, and construction work started at Yeonghwasuk."
-From the letter by Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
People suddenly started dying after the director came? But could this story be taken at face value? The production team fell into deep thought. So after an extensive search, they tracked down people who had spent their childhoods at Yeonghwasuk and met with them directly. Now, here are their stories, which had been hidden from the world.
▲ Vanishing Children
Here is a map of Busan. Let's head over to Jagalchi Market in Busan. A young child is crying, searching for his mother. The child's name is Yoo Ok-soo, 7 years old. Just moments earlier, he had been looking around the market with his mother and younger sibling, but in the dense crowd, he slipped away from his mother's hand. As he wandered in tears looking for his mother, a man approached and spoke to Ok-soo.
"Little boy, why are you crying? Aren't you hungry? Want me to buy you some bread?"
In the 1960s, food was scarce. Thinking this was an unexpected piece of luck, Ok-soo immediately stopped crying and followed the man.
"Back then, my younger sister and I were holding hands, and my left hand held my mom's hand. We went to Jagalchi Market, and I let go of my mom's hand for just a moment. So having lost hold of her hand, someone said, 'I'll buy you a piece of bread. You're hungry, right?' At the sound of bread, I followed without thinking. Following him was truly the end of happiness and the beginning of suffering."
-Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
After that day, Ok-soo never saw his mother again. But at Songdo Beach, something even more chilling happened: three children vanished all at once.
Twelve-year-old Geun-soo was selling chewing gum to vacationers at the beach. Selling a single pack of gum was more desperate than ever. Why? His two young siblings were sucking their fingers, looking only at Geun-soo. Just then, two men wearing armbands stopped the three siblings. And after that day, Geun-soo and his siblings were nowhere to be found at the beach.
"My younger siblings couldn't go to school back then, and I attended up to the fifth grade before we could no longer afford it. I had to earn money, so I brought gum to sell. But one day, two crime prevention patrolmen came down from the Songdo Police Substation, and all three of us were forcibly taken away."
-Lee Geun-soo, then 12 years old
Crime prevention patrolmen took them? How strange. This time it was Haeundae. Eight-year-old Man-yoo, a second-grader in elementary school, energetically left home to go to school. But on his way to school, a man approached him.
"It was in front of Haeundae Station on my way to school. When he asked, 'What are you doing?' and I said, 'I'm on my way to school right now,' I guess I looked a bit scruffy. So he just threw me into a vehicle."
-Ha Man-yoo, then 8 years old
Children were being abducted from different locations. What they all had in common was that each disappeared after encountering strange men. Time passed, and night fell. A truck rumbled up a slope. The cargo bed was packed with children captured that day. Every single one had a look of sheer terror. They had been seized out of the blue without knowing why. With no family around, how frightened they must have been all alone. But the real terror was only beginning. If anyone dared to cry, the captors ruthlessly slapped their cheeks and threw punches indiscriminately.
"Try getting slapped across the face by an adult. Sparks fly before your eyes. And before that flash ends, something else comes flying at you. Simply put, they shut your mouth completely so you can't say a word and have no choice but to obey them. If you don't obey, there are no excuses. You don't even know where the punches are coming from."
-Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
After an agonizing journey trembling in fear, the cargo door clanked open. Stepping down, a strange building loomed in the pitch darkness. Upon entering, several men carrying clubs stood stationed throughout the room.
"Quiet, everyone! You! Step forward!"
When a child stepped forward and sat before the desk, the first thing they asked was their name. When the child gave their name, they recorded it on the roster with a slight alteration.
"They inverted the names. They would alter the middle name or change the family name. Then, when parents came after hearing that their child was inside, they looked at the ledger, and the name wasn't there. Why? Because they had swapped the name—how could the name be on it?"
-Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
Having finished roster registration, the children were moved to dilapidated barracks. Ahead, visibility remained poor. Along the ceiling of the long, dark hallway hung only a single, faint red bulb. The captured children scattered one by one into separate rooms, and finally, it was Ok-soo's turn. Clank. The lock on the outside opened, the door swung wide, and the foul stench of filth filled the room. Looking inside to see what could possibly be in such a place, dozens of buzz-cut children were sleeping squeezed tightly together in a room so cramped there was no space to step. Yet the way they slept was utterly bizarre.
"Do you know how we slept? Have you heard of 'knife sleep'? You had to prop your head sideways like this. If I turned my head this way, another person's head was right over here. Then I had to tightly hold and embrace the legs of the person lying on that side. Leaving comfort aside, we never once slept lying flat on our backs on the floor. That's how terribly hard it was."
-Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
Squeezing in to sleep turned on one's side like the blade of a knife—the so-called "knife sleep." How about it? Could you sleep like that?
There was an even more shocking part. A person called the "room leader" tapped Ok-soo on the shoulder from behind with a club and said, "You squeeze in and sleep over there." Ok-soo did as he was told, barely wedging himself in between the sleeping children to lie down.
"(After I lay down) then the senior room leader came in, and while we were holding each other, I tucked my feet in. My feet went in, right? Then came another beating. 'You bastards, does this room feel spacious to you? Your feet actually fit?' The person lying head-to-toe held my feet tight, and I held his feet tight too. With all our strength, until the blood rushed. Every time we went to sleep, whether feet smelled or not, we had to hold onto each other like that."
-Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
▲ The Shadow of 'Social Purification'
Why went to such lengths? Ultimately, there was only one reason: to cram more people into these cramped rooms. Every single child literally meant money. That is why they indiscriminately rounded up these children. Why? Because at the time, Busan City paid subsidies to facilities housing them based on the head count. This was inextricably tied to the social climate of the era.
"After the May 16 coup took place and the military regime stepped in, they viewed vagrants and street children as disruptions to social order. Under the guise of 'social purification,' the government framed them not as unfortunate people, but as targets for eradication. With economic development to pursue and foreign capital to attract, anyone who looked like a street kid, seemed a bit unruly, or appeared poor was rounded up and loaded onto vehicles. If they said they had parents, they beat them, and took them away just like that."
-Professor Nam Chan-seop, Department of Social Welfare, Dong-A University
At the time, the Park Chung-hee administration decided to sweep vagrant children and adults off the streets and confine them in designated facilities under the pretext of "social purification." As soon as Lee Soon-young took office as director of Yeonghwasuk, he signed a contract with Busan City for the "consignment custody and protection of vagrants and the homeless." Orphans and vagrant children under 18 were consigned to Yeonghwasuk, while adult vagrants and beggars aged 18 and older were assigned to Jaesaengwon. Kyung-ho's letter described the exact same reality.
"Older brothers, older sisters, and younger siblings brought in from all over Busan Direct Control City without even knowing why they were caught. Many were grabbed while walking home after studying late at school, or while walking home after having a drink. What I saw clearly with my own eyes and heard with my own ears was that these older brothers, sisters, and children were not vagrants. They were ordinary people dragged in through illegal kidnappings and crackdowns. They were simply citizens of Busan."
-From the letter by Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
Remember the stench of filth Ok-soo smelled earlier? The vile odor that stung his nose upon first entering the room was feces and urine that the children had relieved during the night. What did this mean? It meant they were not even allowed to go to the bathroom at night. Why? For fear they might run away during that time. If children escaped, the subsidies would decrease.
▲ The Cycle of Violence
Now it was dawn the next morning. At the sound of the wake-up bugle rousing the children, they poured out in an instant. Ok-soo quickly followed. But his jaw dropped at the sight unfolding before his eyes.
The scale of the facility was far vaster than imagined—it was like an entire village. And that was not all. Look at this.
Children stand packed across a dirt playground shrouded in dust. There appear to be well over hundreds of them. And they are not just standing there. They are lined up in rigid ranks and files, held to strict military discipline. Standing right at the very front is facility director Lee Soon-young.
"Attention everyone! Roll call begins now! First platoon, count off!"
Having done this countless times, they move in perfect order. But roll calls? Platoons? It was just like the military. Remember that Director Lee Soon-young had a military background? What if a single number was missing during roll call? That day immediately turned into a full-blown emergency. To the director, every single head counted as money. If one child was missing, government subsidies were slashed accordingly.
Once roll call was over, the daily routine began. Take a look at this.
This is a map of Yeonghwasuk and Jaesaengwon. Past the entrance with the signpost, walking straight ahead leads to a large cafeteria, and across from it sit the director's office and the Yeonghwasuk administrative office. Next to them are the platoons—the barracks where the children lived. Right beside them is Jaesaengwon. Behind Jaesaengwon, there was also livestock housing. The surrounding area was completely encircled by reed fields and hills. That is why it was barely noticeable to outsiders.
Ok-soo, a new arrival at Yeonghwasuk, was placed in the "replacement depot." When newcomers arrived, they underwent an adjustment period here—essentially like a military recruit training camp. Yet what they were forced to do was bizarre: all they could do was sit. Both hands on their knees, heads fixed looking straight ahead. They had to maintain that exact posture all day long. But what if they moved even slightly? Beatings and corporal punishment were inflicted immediately. Even if their legs cramped, their backs ached intensely, or they urgently needed the restroom, they had to hold it. So what happened? Children began wetting themselves on the spot, one after another. And that was met with a flurry of punches and kicks. Why did they do this? The reason was revealed in Kyung-ho's letter.
"Whenever we made a mistake, there was always 'discipline' from the older boys, and each time, we had to be beaten on the soles of our feet and struck on our buttocks with clubs. I suppose it was meant to teach us not to make mistakes. In fact, I felt more at ease on days when I was beaten. On days when I wasn't beaten, I couldn't even sleep and felt more anxious because I never knew when the blows would come. I thought complete loyalty was everything for me."
- From the letter of Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
"There was no reason for it. It was just to keep us from having even a shred of another thought. Unconditionally, one guy would walk down the line beating us, and then another guy would walk down beating us again. If they weren't beating us, our hearts would race, wondering when it would happen. Sometimes you'd wet your pants without even realizing it from the anxiety. Once you took the beating, even if you were crawling on the floor on your knees, you'd think, 'Ah, I got beaten, so now it's over.' If they weren't beating you, the anxiety was unbearable."
- Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
It was done to instill obedience and loyalty: "If you don't listen to me, there is only violence, so follow my orders without question." It was a place designed to make children incapable of even considering rebellion.
▲ Living Less Than Human
Once loyalty and obedience were drilled into them, the children were assigned to their respective labor sites. Remember Man-yoo, who had been abducted on his way to school in the morning? Man-yoo was put to work in the Yeonghwasuk cafeteria. But did they feed them properly? Here is a look at the diet provided back then.
It was boiled cornmeal mixed with water, known as corn porridge. Even then, they were not given enough time to eat properly. At an age when children need to eat and grow, this single bowl was the entirety of a meal.
"Say they were boiling a mal (about 18 liters) of corn flour. They would pour in a mal of corn flour and add three ditches worth of water. When you scooped it from the cauldron, it was just liquid. It ran like water, with no thickness to it at all. We had to survive a whole day on that."
- Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
Meanwhile, Ok-soo was assigned to the pigpens. Here, pigs were treated far better than the facility's residents. Ok-soo even felt jealous of the pigs, thinking, "Wow, you eat better than I do. If I had been born a pig, at least I would have died on a full stomach." In reality, incidents like this also occurred.
"I would hit the pig over the head with the slop bucket, shove it away, and eat it myself. The pig feed. I would plunge my hand in and fish out anything solid. I'd scoop out solids and bring them back without anyone knowing. Then I'd dry them in the sun to eat later. Things like dried anchovies or scraps of meat. I dried all of that."
- Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
Can you imagine how starving they must have been to do that? And if caught doing even that, they would be beaten on the spot. The reason was simple: what if the pigs went hungry and lost weight? It was so extreme that residents had a saying among themselves: "The director claps when a child dies, but sheds tears when a pig dies." Because pigs brought money when sold. The children were treated worse than pigs.
"Because of hunger, things like this actually happened. A 5- or 6-year-old child was behind the latrine at the 3rd Platoon. There were lots of maggots crawling there because flies swarmed around. The child was picking them up and eating them, so I asked about it. Even when I asked, the child didn't say a word, just kept eating."
- Ha Man-yoo, then 8 years old
Yet did the children never think of escaping from this hellhole? Remember Geun-soo, the eldest of the three siblings taken from the beach? Geun-soo said he stared beyond the wall more than a dozen times a day. He felt as though simply climbing over that wall would allow him to escape immediately. But there was a reason he could not do so.
"If I ran away, it wasn't about surviving on my own. I had to take my younger sibling with me. If I left them behind and escaped, that child would die. For example, if my younger sibling ran away, everyone else could just take a collective beating and let it pass. But if I ran away, how badly would my sibling be beaten?"
- Lee Geun-soo, then 12 years old
As an older brother, he simply could not abandon his sibling. Collective punishment was strictly enforced here. If a single resident ran away, everyone sharing the room was subjected to collective disciplinary punishment and indiscriminate beatings.
"Being in the office area, I saw children being beaten every evening. Kids who ran away and got caught were beaten like dogs. Seeing that, you couldn't even dream of running away. Ordinary people cannot imagine it. About four people holding pickaxe handles didn't care whether they hit the head or anywhere else. They beat them so brutally, as if they didn't care whether the child lived or died. After seeing that several times, you think, 'If I get beaten like that, I will die.' Once you see that, you don't dare think about escaping even for a second. Even when slaughtering a pig, they wouldn't beat it like that. No matter how tough someone is, once they see that, their mind changes."
- Yoo Ok-soo, then 7 years old
What if an escape attempt failed and they were dragged back? This is a pickaxe handle. They would take a pickaxe handle used for digging earth and swing it with full force dozens of times until the soles of the child's feet burst with blood. After being beaten like that, they could not walk and had to crawl. Unable to reach the cafeteria, they went without food for days. That was why children dared not climb the walls and could only hold their breath in fear every night. But there was an even more shocking fact.
"Police substation officers called us 'crows,' and at times looked for armbands marked 'Crackdown.' When targets of the crackdown saw us, they avoided us, warning each other, 'The crows are here.' Those captured were loaded onto vehicles and subjected to all kinds of humiliation at Jaesaengwon."
- From the letter of Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
Hunting down escaped children was also assigned to other children. Kyung-ho was part of the crackdown squad known as the "crows." Moreover, catching runaways was not all the squad did. Remember the children captured at the beginning—Ok-soo, Man-yoo, and Geun-soo's three siblings? The ones who abducted them and brought them to Yeonghwasuk were also this crow crackdown squad. Residents were forced to capture other children. Ok-soo spent eight years at Yeonghwasuk; after working in the pigpens, he too served on the crackdown squad.
"Someone once asked me, 'You were on crackdown duty back then, weren't you?' They didn't know what was inside my heart. So I told them, 'Put yourself in my shoes back then. If you were there, you'd understand how I felt. I caught you back then so I wouldn't get beaten. I had no choice. What grudge did I have against you to catch you? I brought you in just so I wouldn't be beaten myself.'"
- Yoo Ok-soo, forced detainee of Yeonghwasuk
In other words, even knowing it was wrong, he had no choice but to capture other children. If he didn't, he would be beaten himself.
"Even when older girls were dragged in, beaten, and raped, and older boys were brought in, subjected to violence, and forced into hard labor, whether I thought only of my own survival, I simply remained loyal by instinct, like an animal."
- From the letter of Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
Even the squad leaders and platoon leaders who ruthlessly beat the children were, shockingly, fellow residents and victims themselves. The positions were given to those who had been there longer and showed a semblance of loyalty to Lee Soon-young. Victims became perpetrators, and those perpetrators created new victims in a horrific vicious cycle.
The captured children were around 10 years old, or at most in their mid-to-late teens. Putting armbands on such children and giving them authority inevitably led to devastating consequences. Seok-joo, who was captured and taken to Yeonghwasuk twice—at ages 9 and 11—suffered an unforgettable horror.
"It seemed the platoon leader had targeted me. Inside, all the good-looking boys fell victim to that platoon leader. In the room, we had to sleep tightly packed like sardines, but the platoon leader had plenty of space, all to himself on one side. Then he called out, 'Hitler (Son Seok-joo's nickname at the time), come here.' I said, 'Why?' He said, 'When I tell you to come, get over here, you bastard.' Disobeying meant getting beaten, so I had no choice but to go. When I was being abused like that, do you think the others living with us didn't know? Not a single person could say a word."
- Son Seok-joo, forcibly detained at Yeonghwasuk twice at ages 9 and 11
Assaults and beatings between captured children were atrocious enough, but sexual assaults took place as well—it was an absolute living hell. Yet all of this was scripted under the meticulous calculations of Director Lee Soon-young. Once again, it was money that drove him to force children into such cruel and inhumane acts.
"The subsidy per child was fixed. The ways to extract money from that were to give the children as little food and clothing as possible, exploit them through forced labor, and hire as few paid employees as possible. To avoid hiring paid staff, they created a system where detainees monitored one another. That is why they used military-style ranks like platoon leaders and company commanders—methods that bore an uncanny resemblance to the military."
- Professor Nam Chan-seop, Department of Social Welfare, Dong-A University
Hiring outside personnel to manage the children would have required paying salaries. But by forcing the residents to monitor and control one another, it cost him nothing. Lee Soon-young's villainy did not stop there. He even made the children do things too horrific to utter.
▲ Nameless Deaths
One morning, the bugle call sounded without fail, and Seok-joo was busy preparing for roll call as usual. But Gi-cheol, a friend of the same age sleeping right next to him, would not get up. Fearing they might get scolded, Seok-joo shook Gi-cheol to wake him.
"That night, Gi-cheol and I put our heads together and said 'good night' to each other before going to sleep. The next morning at 6:00 a.m., everyone got up at the wake-up call, but he was the only one who didn't get up. So I shook him, saying, 'Hey, Gi-cheol, wake up, wake up,' but he didn't budge at all."
- Son Seok-joo, then 11 years old
Gi-cheol had passed away in his sleep. Seok-joo was deeply traumatized; a friend who had slept beside him just the night before had suddenly died.
"The squad leader came over, looked at Gi-cheol, and reported it to the platoon leader. The platoon leader came over, nudged him with his foot, looked, and said, 'He's dead.' That single phrase was all. Then I could only stare blankly as he was covered and carried out by adults from Jaesaengwon. From that point on, it became the moment when an 11-year-old child realized the terror that 'I could die like that too' and 'I might never get out of here.'"
- Son Seok-joo, then 11 years old
The crackdown squad rushed over and carried Gi-cheol away on their backs. Where were they taking him? The answer lies on the next page of Kyung-ho's letter.
"Watching the older boys and girls die, I thought that to survive, I had to remain loyal. To stay alive, I did whatever the older boys told me to do. I had to secretly bury on the back hill seven younger children who died from harsh abuse, and secretly bury eleven older girls, older boys, and adult men in the reed fields. When told to 'bury the body,' I buried them in the reed fields and hills whether it was day or night, and I endured every filthy sexual abuse and beating without resisting."
- From the letter of Shin Kyung-ho (pseudonym)
Let's look at the map once more.
What was surrounding Yeonghwasuk and Jaesaengwon? That's right, reed fields and hills. That is where the bodies were buried in secret. Lee Soon-young forced even these gruesome acts upon the young hands of the facility's children.
▲ Shadows of Downfall
Meanwhile, in 1969, when Kyung-ho turned 13, a man had recently begun watching Yeonghwasuk closely. As mentioned earlier, Yeonghwasuk and Jaesaengwon were hardly visible from the outside. Moreover, there was little sign of life. Why? Because everyone was out doing forced labor or locked inside the barracks. But one man happened to pass nearby and noticed the facility. Let's first look at a photo of this man.
He was an American priest named Aloysius Schwartz, known as the "Father of the Poorest of the Poor." He received the Ramon Magsaysay Award in 1983 and was nominated twice for the Nobel Peace Prize. He dedicated his entire life to the abandoned. Father Aloysius first arrived in South Korea in 1957 as a missionary priest for the Diocese of Busan. By 1969, he was operating a shelter in Busan providing medical care to vagrants and the homeless. And that shelter happened to be right across from Yeonghwasuk. Father Aloysius asked a nun:
"Sister, what is that place over there that looks like a military base?"
"Father, you have no idea. Just today, a child escaped from there. The child's entire body was covered in injuries and seemed to have gone untreated for a long time."
"Who lives there?"
"I don't know the details. But something horrible must be happening there. Screams never stop every night."
Father Aloysius was astonished. He could not simply stand by and watch. He had to know what on earth was happening there. Accompanied by several nuns, Father Aloysius visited Yeonghwasuk. What were the children like when he saw them? He described it as follows:
"As many as 1,200 children were detained there. Fifty to sixty children were kept in a single room, and many suffered from pulmonary tuberculosis, malnutrition, eye diseases, and skin conditions. Yet they received no treatment whatsoever and were virtually locked inside their rooms all day. Around the children, men serving as the director's henchmen held clubs, watching over them with fierce glares."
- From the biography of Father Aloysius
The children were living in dreadful conditions. Yet there was no easy way to rescue them. As mentioned earlier, Yeonghwasuk was an official facility under contract with the Busan municipal government. Furthermore, rash attempts to rescue the children might cause Lee Soon-young to retaliate against them.
Then one day, an incident occurred that left Father Aloysius in utter shock. Take a look at this photo.
This is a girl who had been staying at Yeonghwasook for over a year. She was in the terminal stages of severe pulmonary tuberculosis, yet she had never received proper medical treatment even once. When Father So visited Yeonghwasook, her condition appeared so critical that he rushed her to a treatment clinic. However, the girl passed away just two days later. At that moment, Father So resolved that he had to rescue these children from that place, no matter what.
Father So went to Busan city officials, police chiefs, and even the mayor of Busan to expose the reality of Yeonghwasook. However, all of them feigned ignorance. He was even threatened: "If you do not stop this immediately, you will face grave consequences." How on earth was this possible? Let me show you this.
These were the board members of Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon at the time. They included an "elected lawmaker" and a "prison guard"—extremely powerful figures of that era. Did Father So give up here? No. Realizing that appeals within Busan would no longer work, Father So decided to take things to a bigger stage. He sent petitions to the Minister of Home Affairs, the Prosecutor General, the Prime Minister, and ultimately even to President Park Chung-hee. With the situation escalating to this level, the Busan city government had no choice. Lee Soon-young was investigated by the police and finally arrested.
A few days later, complete chaos erupted at the relief center run by Father So. Dozens of Hansen's disease patients were blocking the front of the center. Who were they? They were residents of a leprosy resettlement village, another welfare facility operated by Lee Soon-young. Under Lee's orders, they had raided Father So's relief center. They staged a fierce protest, chanting slogans like "Expel the liar Father So!" Yet, not a single person could step forward to stop them. At the time, the misconception that Hansen's disease could spread through mere contact was widespread.
Just then, a group rushed out from the relief center. They reportedly began spitting furiously toward the protesters. The tuberculosis patients admitted to Father So's relief center had stepped up to defend him. A massive riot broke out, with Hansen's disease patients and tuberculosis patients tangled in a brawl. This commotion continued for several days. In the meantime, Lee Soon-young was released just six days after his arrest, on the grounds that there was no risk of flight.
However, the conflict was far from over. Eventually, Father So and Lee Soon-young sat down at the negotiation table. Following lengthy negotiations, this was the outcome:
First, in exchange for providing food and clothing worth $20,000, our sisters must be allowed to visit Yeonghwasook freely at any time to care for the children.
Second, 200 children must be transferred to the sisters' congregation to be cared for.
Father So continued his efforts to rescue the children of Yeonghwasook after that. He collected signatures from more than 100,000 citizens and even launched a fundraising campaign, swaying public opinion. Ultimately, in 1971, the Busan city government cancelled its consignment contract with Yeonghwasook. Even if they abducted children, they would no longer receive government subsidies.
The children from Yeonghwasook who arrived at Boystown with the help of Father So gradually regained their daily lives under his protection and education. So what happened to Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon? Did it close down just like that? If that were the case, the story would end here. But the real beginning of this story—the story of Gyeong-ho, who sent the letter at the very start—begins now.
▲ Breeding Ground for Criminals
Around the time Hansen's disease patients and tuberculosis patients were clashing fiercely, someone secretly called out to Gyeong-ho as he walked across the Yeonghwasook drill ground. Whispering to Gyeong-ho, "Listen to me carefully. From now on, this is our only way to survive," the person led him behind the office to an empty spot.
"When I was over ten years old, under the director's orders, I was trained in crime on the grass behind the office by the drill ground. I learned how to tie people up, how to break into houses, what to do first upon entering a home, and I also learned how to commit street robberies."
— From the letter of Shin Gyeong-ho (pseudonym)
He was trained to commit crimes under the director's orders. And that night, on a busy street in Busan, four men instantly surrounded a woman walking down the street. Pressing a weapon against her side, they threatened her, saying, "Follow us quietly." The men stole the woman's wristwatch, ring, cash, and bankbook before fleeing. This was Gyeong-ho's very first crime. In this manner, Gyeong-ho embarked on the path of a criminal.
He wandered all over Busan looking for targets, moving beyond street robberies to home invasions without hesitation. So where did all the stolen goods go? Into the cabinet inside the director's office at Yeonghwasook. When Lee Soon-young could no longer make money through child exploitation, he began committing atrocious crimes. From that point on, the atmosphere at Yeonghwasook shifted once again—from a nominal child welfare facility rife with beatings and harsh abuses into a massive military academy of crime.
Then one day, the director's office specifically summoned Gyeong-ho.
"It's the director's order. Go to the police substation right now and just stamp your fingerprints a few times, then come back."
Gyeong-ho simply headed to the police substation as told. Remember how he said he stamped his fingerprints? From there, he was taken straight to a prosecutor and even stood trial. The director had framed Gyeong-ho for someone else's crime and sent him to juvenile hall in their place. How terrifying it must have been to be sent to juvenile hall without even knowing why. Yet, Gyeong-ho's feelings were completely different.
"Yet, it was nice. They gave me barley rice for three meals every single day without fail, and occasionally adults would bring bread in plastic bags, sing songs for us, and give us food. No one beat me, and no one subjected me to horrific sexual abuse. Living freely inside the facility was so wonderful. When they told me to leave after several months, I did not want to leave."
— From the letter of Shin Gyeong-ho (pseudonym)
Of course, there are no "what-ifs" in the past, but what if Gyeong-ho had severed ties with Yeonghwasook and gone straight even then? But several months later, when Gyeong-ho was released from juvenile hall, the only place he could go was Yeonghwasook. He had been abandoned there practically from birth. When Gyeong-ho returned to Yeonghwasook, the director welcomed him with open arms, as if he had been waiting. Then, grinning broadly, he said:
"Gyeong-ho, starting today, you are part of the commando unit."
Having become a commando, Gyeong-ho's new stage was Seomyeon, the busiest downtown area in Busan. Specifically, a theater showing foreign movies. Opening a narrow iron door behind the theater and going down to the basement revealed a completely different world. Opening the door and entering, there was a massive secret workshop. As Gyeong-ho stepped inside, the manager greeted him.
"Hey, are you Gyeong-ho? Nice to meet ya."
"Nice to meet you, sir. What should I do?"
"Yeah, just take this and deliver it properly. You can do that, right? Do a good job."
Gyeong-ho's mission was to deliver certain items to madams at dabangs (coffeehouses) and bars.
"Upon becoming a commando and swearing loyalty to the director in front of the general manager, I delivered drugs using a theater at Busan's Seomyeon Rotary as a base. I delivered marijuana, called 'drug cigarettes,' to middle-aged women operating businesses in front of dabangs, theaters, and bars, and I personally delivered part of the sales proceeds to police officers and public officials."
— From the letter of Shin Gyeong-ho (pseudonym)
Now Lee Soon-young had gone so far as to dip his hands into the illicit drug market. Furthermore, he was descending deeper and deeper into the criminal underworld by joining hands with gangsters and paying bribes to public officials. Of course, throughout this process, he mobilized children who knew nothing. At this time, Gyeong-ho was only 14 years old.
As Lee Soon-young stepped further down the criminal path, Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon, which no longer brought in money, were pushed to the back burner. And in 1976, when the Busan city government revoked its corporate license, Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon closed down forever. So what happened to Director Lee Soon-young after that?
Although there were multiple legal battles, the final ruling was a fine of 300,000 won—equivalent to about 7 million won in today's money. The court's reasoning was as follows: "While it is true that inmates were beaten and mobilized for forced labor, there is no evidence to conclude that Lee Soon-young ordered or directed it."
Moreover, most of the wealth amassed through the inmates' forced labor and the funds illegally acquired by the commandos, including Gyeong-ho, were transferred intact into the possession of Lee Soon-young's family. And in 1981, four years after the final trial, Lee Soon-young died of a chronic illness. He passed away leaving behind countless victims, without ever being held properly accountable.
▲ The World Outside Hell
So how did the victims live after leaving Yeonghwasook? Man-yu, who was snatched on his way to school, and Geun-soo, who was dragged away along with his younger siblings. After leaving Yeonghwasook, the two of them were dragged off to somewhere else yet again. It is probably a place you have heard of: "Brothers Home." It was the country's largest confinement facility for vagrants during the 1970s and 1980s, remaining as another horrific human rights violation in modern South Korean history.
However, the two were reportedly astonished upon arriving at Brothers Home. There were far too many children from Yeonghwasook there. Most of the children released from Yeonghwasook either could not find their families or were turned away by them. Having nowhere to go, they wandered the streets again, only to be captured and brought to Brothers Home. But there is an even more shocking story here.
"The operational methods of Brothers Home and Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon were so similar that they could be considered nearly identical. It appears Park In-geun, the head of Brothers Home, benchmarked the operational methods of Director Lee Soon-young of Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon. I heard that the two men knew each other."
— Professor Nam Chan-seop, Department of Social Welfare at Dong-A University
The origin of Brothers Home, often called the worst concentration camp, was none other than this Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon. Furthermore, among those from Yeonghwasook, there are reportedly many who, like them, were repeatedly and consecutively interned—from Brothers Home to the Samcheong Re-education Camp. If you had lived such a life for your entire existence, could you have lived a normal social life? Panic disorder, anthropophobia, claustrophobia. These were the common conditions among the victims that the program met.
Moreover, remember when they were first captured? They wrote different names for the children in the registry. That single moment completely transformed their lives forever.
"Even though I was a South Korean citizen, up until 1988, you know how there are people floating in limbo? Unable to do this or that—a person suspended right in between, that was 'me.' When I was dragged to a police substation in the 1970s, do you know what the first thing I heard was? 'How many of you crossed over!' while beating me. 'What is your mission this time!' At that police substation, we went either to the rooftop or to the basement. Then they would sit you down, skewer you on wooden skewers, and spin you around. Then they would cover you with a towel and pour wasabi over you. If you didn't consume it, it was even more agonizing. You just drank whatever they gave you."
— Yoo Ok-soo, victim of forced internment at Yeonghwasook
Whenever police conducted random inspections, he was mistaken for a spy and subjected to severe torture because he did not have proper identification documents. In short, he was an unidentified person. Such incidents were reportedly commonplace for children from Yeonghwasook. And what was the situation when Mr. Yoo was first dragged in? He let go of his mother's hand at Jagalchi Market and ended up at Yeonghwasook. Was he able to meet his mother after leaving Yeonghwasook? He did meet his mother, but only after a staggering 30 years had passed.
"At that time, I received a call from the police station. The first thing they asked me was, 'Mr. Yoo Ok-soo, didn't you live in Hadan-dong?' I said, 'That's right, why?' and they said, 'Could you come over for a moment?' I went to the hospital, and an elderly woman was lying there. They asked, 'Do you know this woman?' and I said, 'I don't know her.' Because I didn't know, I had no memory. All my memories had been completely erased. 'I don't know this grandma.' Then the doctor said something and drew blood from that grandmother and me. Later, they contacted me again. 'Sir, your DNA matches that grandmother's.' 'That person is your mother.' She looked at me, weeping, and said, 'I am your mother.' Yet, even when my mother was weeping and saying 'I am your mother,' something emotional should have welled up inside me, but there was nothing. It just felt bland. 'Is this person really my mother? Isn't she fake?'"
— Yoo Ok-soo, victim of forced internment at Yeonghwasook
Too many years had passed, causing even affectionate feelings toward family to fade away completely.
So, what was Gyeong-ho's life like? Let us return to Gyeong-ho's childhood. What was 14-year-old Gyeong-ho doing earlier? After his first stay at juvenile hall, Gyeong-ho was imprisoned multiple times for theft, robbery, and drug distribution. But aren't you curious? How did Gyeong-ho end up committing the heinous crime of murder? Let me tell you that story now.
▲ The Man Who Became a Killer
It was 1984 at Seoul Station, after Gyeong-ho completed his eighth prison term. By then, Gyeong-ho was 28 years old. With nowhere to go, he was sleeping in the underpass of Seoul Station. But when he opened his eyes, a woman was standing before him. She looked several years older than Gyeong-ho. And looking beside her, a man was with her as well. They took Gyeong-ho, bought him a jacket and a meal, and out of the blue, made an offer:
"Would you like to come work with us?"
Fortunately, the group operated a restaurant at an amusement area in Gyeonggi Province. They were looking for staff to work together at the restaurant. From Gyeong-ho's perspective, he was immensely grateful. Gyeong-ho reportedly worked diligently with the determination to live a new life. One year, two years passed, and before long, six years went by.
One day in 1990, an altercation broke out between Gyeong-ho's restaurant and the neighboring restaurant over parking spaces—the kind of territory dispute that often occurs between restaurants. But this was where trouble erupted. The fight, which began as a verbal argument, escalated into a physical brawl as emotions ran high. And at that moment, Gyeong-ho crossed a line he never should have crossed. Long after that day, how does Gyeong-ho look back on that time?
"The fact that I became like this is entirely my own fault. What happened at Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon was what it was, and while I cannot say it had no influence at all, if I consider myself from the perspective of the victims I harmed over the years, I am a shameless, heinous criminal living off taxpayers' money for life."
— From the letter of Shin Gyeong-ho (pseudonym)
After reading the entire letter, the production team of "Bite the Tail" visited the prison and met Gyeong-ho in person. Gyeong-ho, now in his 70s, reportedly said to the crew the moment he saw them, as if he had been waiting: "Before I die, this is my only wish." What was Gyeong-ho's final wish?
"If I am recognized as a victim of Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon and receive compensation, I will donate it to a welfare foundation helping neighbors in need so that people like me will no longer be created."
— Shin Gyeong-ho's (pseudonym) wish
While murder can never be justified, it was his wish that no further tragedies like his would ever occur again. And there was one more thing:
"To excavate the bodies secretly buried around Yeonghwasook, including the bodies I secretly buried, and return them to the embrace of their families."
— Shin Gyeong-ho's (pseudonym) wish
As the production team was leaving, Gyeong-ho also left these final parting words:
"Please do not forget that I am a heinous criminal. I am a prisoner serving a life sentence. I hope for neither forgiveness nor any opportunity."
Remember Seok-ju, who discovered his friend lying dead beside him earlier? Seok-ju, one of the last inmates of Yeonghwasook, first revealed the existence of Yeonghwasook and Jaesaengwon to the world in November 2022. After running around in all directions, he led 185 victims and bereaved family members to secure a 51.1 billion won compensation ruling against the state and the Busan metropolitan government. These are individuals who lived their entire lives under hellish trauma. How did they feel when they finally received state recognition and victim compensation? The victims spoke with one voice:
"It's not about the money. Whom do I resent and live with now?"
The director has died, decades have passed, and now having even received money from the state, they are left not knowing where to vent the deep grievance of their ruined lives.
Even now, whenever he has time, Seok-ju visits the former site of Yeonghwasook in Jangnim-dong, Saha-gu, Busan. He goes to honor the spirits of his friend Gi-cheol, who must be buried somewhere on this mountain, and the children who disappeared from the world without a name—friends who died such wrongful deaths.
"Gi-cheol, you must be somewhere on this mountain too, right? More than 50 years have passed, but not a single day went by without me thinking of you. Shouldn't we pull you out of the darkness now? I will make sure my brothers and friends can go to a better place. I'm sorry, my friend..."
Will he ever be able to find his friend Gi-cheol beneath that hillside someday? Eleven-year-old Seok-ju intends to keep visiting this mountain until the day he sees his friend again.
What are your thoughts "today" after hearing the story of "that day"?
Reporter Kang Sun-ae
(SBS Entertainment News, Reporter Kang Sun-ae)
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