CITYSCAPES Explaining the unexplained on Yonsei campus
A mysterious object sits in the front yard of Underwood Memorial House on Yonsei University's Seoul campus, last Sept. 21. / Courtesy of Ron Bandun
By Ron Bandun
The universe is a big place filled with unexplained things. Unidentified flying objects (UFOs) exist, until they become identified. In your limited existence you can't explain every natural phenomenon you encounter, and it's arrogant to presume your unexplainable encounter somehow unlocks the mysteries of the universe.
In all my experiences, I've had a few encounters that gave me a deep chill. I like to sit and savor it, like you would an ice cream sundae or a horror movie. Though for the record, I hate horror movies; I'm already living in one.
Of course the sensation always subsides, leaving me with no more answers about life after death.
I probably felt it most intensely on the Yonsei University campus, right in front of Underwood Memorial Hall, located past an old stone bridge and surrounded by trees.
The hall is named after Horace Grant Underwood, an American Protestant missionary who founded Chosun Christian College, which later became Yonsei University in 1915, a year before his death. There is a statue of him somewhere, reportedly riddled with bullet holes from the Korean War.
Underwood's family had a house on campus, where on March 17, 1949, communist insurgents murdered his daughter-in-law Ethel Van Wagoner Underwood.
The Underwoods donated the house to the university in 1974, and in 2003 it opened as Underwood Memorial Hall. Then on Nov. 24, 2016, a fire damaged it, causing its temporary but protracted closure.
Much of what I know comes from Ji-hoon, a brilliant historian who comes off as omniscient and able to see through time. I've always said you can't kick a rock in downtown Seoul without Ji-hoon stopping and giving you a detailed but fascinating lecture on the rock's back story. His knowledge is amazingly thorough, and he always pushes for historical veracity rather than passing on rumors, even when they are popularly believed or more exciting than reality. He previously worked at Underwood Memorial Hall as a guide and caretaker for about a year prior to the fire.
“I was the official tour guide and the caretaker of the Underwood Memorial house,” he told me. “I did the guided tour of the whole house, cleaned the house every day and made sure everything was neat and tidy ― I even wound the old clock (one of the actual Underwood family donations at the house) every day ― as I actually fixed the clock to run properly and ring the bell at every hour.”
Underwood Memorial Hall seen with fire damage last Sept. 21.
When I visited at night last Sept. 21, the upper floor was damaged badly, its three windows gaping emptily at me.
It was sad to see it in such a state, with the upper level windows blown out and showing fire damage. The Underwood legacy in Korea is great, and there is still at least one Underwood living in Korea today.
Lines of police tape hung out front, so I kept my distance from the house itself, instead setting up my tripod in the front lawn and taking pictures from there. Even in that state, it was a beautiful old building, covered in ivy and topped with clay tiles.
During a long exposure, I became aware of a hooded, humanlike figure huddled in the grass behind me. It gave me quite a scare, and creeping closer I couldn't discern what it really was. I really didn't want to be frightened at this historic site tied closely to one of Korea's earliest foreign families. I especially didn't want rumors to get out of the site being haunted, seeing how ghost hunters mistreat other locations. But it gave me the creeps so I left after taking a couple pictures.
I returned Sept. 25 in the afternoon, to find new signs placed on the house saying the university would finally repair the fire damage starting next month, which came as very good news. The house was quite a pleasant sight in the daytime. Students passed by regularly on their way to class from Yeonhee-dong, and an old woman collected pine nuts next to the house. And there was that humanoid shape, sitting right where I'd seen it the previous night.
The object is revealed in daylight, except its exact purpose still remains mysterious. What in the world is it? / Courtesy of Ron Bandun
I determined it was manmade, an asymmetrical sculpted black shape covered with fallen leaves and peeling paint. But what was it? One friend looking at my online images later suggested it was a mount for a statue to fit over top. That seemed plausible to me.
Then Ji-hoon spoke up: “It is one of the upright sofas at the Underwood House.”
When I reacted in surprise, he repeated “I am serious _ this is just a sofa.”
But I was doubtful, even believing the statue mount theory over this, especially due to its irregular design which I imagined could prevent statue rotation.
“It was extremely uncomfortable but it was designed by one of the Yonsei graduates and had been donated to us,” he continued. “As it was extremely uncomfortable and yet still occupied a tremendous amount of space we decided to put it outside.”
So it turns out, one of the most frightening things I've seen was merely a former student's design project. But Ji-hoon wasn't finished.
“I also have to add,” he continued, “I am the one who brought that thing under the tree on the right side of the house, near the water basin.”
I could not have imagined a more thorough answer to this mysterious encounter. From now on every time I see something unsettling or unexplained left in a strange location, I'll think, “Ji-hoon did it.”
Underwood Memorial Hall is renovated and reopened now, and apparently this object has been removed from the lawn. I only wish I had the chance to take Ji-hoon's tour of it.
“For the record I'm unaware of any haunting rumors there,” Ji-hoon added.
Ron Bandun is not really afraid of the dark and does not really believe in ghosts.