Love in Korean War: Wartime bride's son traces mother's journey from Wonju to America
Park Yoo-sun and Ralph Smith pose in Wonju, Gangwon Province, in 1952 and 1953. Courtesy of Charley Smith and Positive Thinking
Charley Smith shares the untold story of his mother, who buried her true name to marry a US serviceman
On the wooden veranda of a traditional Korean house, its lattice doors covered in paper, a young couple sits facing each other and smiling. The American husband, hair cropped short, has lather on his face and is about to shave. His younger Korean wife holds up a mirror for him.
Last summer, their granddaughter shared 10 of the black-and-white photographs on Reddit, the American online forum. They were taken in the early 1950s in Wonju, Gangwon Province, at the height of the Korean War, and the couple in them is Park Yoo-sun and Ralph Smith. The photos drew widespread attention from users in both countries.
The marriage carried a price. Women in Korea who married American servicemen in that era were labeled "yanggongju," literally "Western princess," a derogatory label used against women associated with U.S. troops. By the granddaughter's account, the couple settled in the United States in the 1960s.
Their son, Charley Smith, now 74, published "Yoo-sun and Ralph" through the Korean publisher Positive Thinking. The book traces a family history intertwined with the turbulent course of modern Korean history, from why his mother, whose real name was Yoo-sun, had to go by the unfamiliar name Gye-wol, to her reunion with surviving members of her family in North Korea. It also recounts Smith's own experiences growing up biracial.
The photographs and letters the couple left behind are on display in a special exhibition at the War Memorial of Korea in central Seoul. Smith, in South Korea for the exhibition and the book, sat for an interview on Sept. 16 at the Hankook Ilbo offices in Seoul.
Charley Smith, author of "Yoo-sun and Ralph," poses ahead of an interview at the Hankook Ilbo offices in central Seoul, Sept. 16. Korea Times photo by Min Gyeong-suk
Q: Yoo-sun met Ralph in 1951 while working at a U.S. military base in Wonju?
A: At that time, even though my mother spoke no English, she went to the U.S. military base to support herself, and there she did jobs like cleaning, assisting the medical unit and delivering letters. My father, a U.S. serviceman stationed in Korea, fell in love while helping my mother find her lost family.
Q: Did your parents like talking about the old days while they were alive?
A: My mother talked a lot. I frequently heard the story of how she would beg her mother every morning before school, 'Make my rice ball big.' Food was scarce and people went hungry. When I was about 6, my mother was crying bitterly, so I asked her why, and she said, 'Because I miss your grandmother.'
Q: And yet you learned your mother's real name shortly before she died.
A: She said that when she couldn't find her birth records during the war, she obtained and used another woman's documents to meet the immigration requirements. Perhaps she hid it her whole life out of fear that her son and two daughters would lose respect for her. Because of that, we aren't sure of her actual birth year. She used to ask us to call her by the nickname 'U-so-ni.'
Q: What was discrimination like for an Asian family in America at that time?
A: It was so widespread in those days that I think my parents saw it as unavoidable. I vaguely remember white men ignoring my mother. She taught her children to adapt well to America and at the same time instilled pride in being Korean. I especially loved her spicy "mandu-guk" (dumpling soup).
The Smith family poses in the United States. Clockwise from top left are Charley Smith, Margaret Smith, Ralph Smith, Park Yoo-sun and Jean Smith. Courtesy of Charley Smith and Positive Thinking
Q: Yoo-sun's longing for Korea and her lost family comes through strongly.
A: When a letter came in the spring of 1990 from my uncle Yang-sun in North Korea, my mother wept so hard she couldn't speak. It was possible because my father had registered her information with a separated-families search program in Canada. The following year she traveled to North Korea to meet the four brothers and sisters who were still alive there.
Q: Did she go alone?
A: Yes. I wanted to go with her, but the people around us talked me out of it, because North Korea wouldn't welcome an American. In fact, four men monitored my mother for the entire six-day visit. She badly wanted a second reunion, but her health declined and it never happened. The letters effectively stopped after 1999.
Q: Apart from your father's second posting to Korea in 1961, did you never come to Korea with your parents while they were alive?
A: My parents came to Korea for sightseeing or on business, but we never traveled here as a whole family. Money was the main reason. Along with "aigo" and "sesang-e" (rough equivalents of "oh dear" and "good heavens"), the Korean phrase my mother said most often was "don eopseo" — no money. Even from that distance, the two of them were very proud of Korea's development, above all the 1988 Seoul Olympics.
Q: What would Yoo-sun and Ralph say if they knew you published a book about them?
A: I think they'd be more moved than I am. The two of them really were one. "Yoo-sun and Ralph" is a book about how a person builds a meaningful life. I wrote it honestly, without exaggeration, and Positive Thinking helped polish it. The exhibition at the War Memorial is thanks to the publisher, too. For our family, it's an honor.
The first letter sent by Park Yoo-sun's eldest brother, Park Yang-sun, May 4, 1990 / Courtesy of Charley Smith and Positive Thinking
This article from the Hankook Ilbo, the sister publication of The Korea Times, is translated by a generative AI system and edited by The Korea Times.