A night to remember: Celebrating Korea Times at 50 in 2000

Then-President Kim Dae-jung leads a toast during the 50th anniversary celebration for The Korea Times, published in The Korea Times Nov. 2, 2000. Korea Times Archive

When I first began contributing to The Korea Times in the late 1990s, I could never have imagined where that journey would take me. At the time, I was teaching full-time and writing in the evenings. I sent in my first “Thoughts of the Times” column in 1998, unsure whether anyone would even notice. To my surprise, it ran a few weeks later. Seeing my byline in print for the first time was a thrill I’ll never forget.

My early columns were simple reflections on life in Korea — cross-cultural moments, small observations and lessons learned as an expatriate teacher living in a country that had become home. Readers occasionally wrote letters in response, some challenging my views, others offering encouragement. Their feedback gave me a sense of connection to the broader community of English readers in Korea.

An illustration of a Korea Times reporter, published in The Korea Times Nov. 1, 1972. Korea Times Archive

Writing for The Korea Times was never casual or incidental; it was a chance to write with purpose, to test my voice and see where the words might lead. Each column became an experiment in expression — an exercise in clarity, empathy and observation. Through those pieces, I learned the rhythm of deadlines, the weight of revision and the quiet satisfaction of seeing ideas take shape in print. It was there, on those pages, that I began to understand what writing truly meant to me.

By 2000, I was reviewing books for the paper, which opened another door — one that led me into feature writing. That summer, I was given the opportunity to cover a series of Korean War commemorative events marking the 50th anniversary of the conflict. It was an assignment that carried both weight and privilege. I met veterans who had returned to the peninsula for the first time since the 1953 Korean Armistice Agreement — men who still carried memories that words could scarcely capture. I wrote stories that tried, however imperfectly, to honor their sacrifices. Those articles remain among the most meaningful pieces I’ve ever written.

The Korea Times office, published in The Korea Times Nov. 1, 1994. Korea Times Archive

That same year, The Korea Times turned 50 — a milestone few institutions achieve, especially one born in the ashes of war. Founded in 1950, when the Korean Peninsula was being torn apart, the newspaper had grown alongside the nation itself. It chronicled Korea’s rebirth, its struggles for democracy and its emergence as a modern powerhouse. To me, the paper was more than a newspaper; it was a mirror reflecting both Korea’s progress and the diverse voices that had made it their home.

On Nov. 1, 2000, I was fortunate to attend the newspaper’s 50th anniversary celebration at Sejong Center for the Performing Arts in Seoul. There I was — the accidental journalist — feeling part of history. The evening was electric. The hall filled early with diplomats, business leaders, politicians, editors, columnists, reporters and well-wishers.

The highlight of the evening was an appearance by President Kim Dae-jung. When he spoke, he recalled his years under house arrest and credited The Korea Times for helping him learn English and stay connected to the world at a time when he was physically isolated. His remarks carried both gratitude and symbolism: The very publication that had once served as his private tutor had now become a national institution, celebrating 50 years of bridging Korea with the international community.

As he stepped down from the stage, shaking hands along the aisle, I found myself among those waiting in line. For a few seconds, as he clasped my hand and nodded, I felt the enormity of the moment. It wasn’t just about meeting a president or a Nobel laureate — it was about witnessing the living history of Korea’s journey. I was both humbled and honored.

Then President Kim Dae-jung speaks during an interview, published in The Korea Times Nov. 1, 2000. Korea Times Archive

Two years later, that memory took on deeper meaning. One afternoon, I received a phone call from a man who introduced himself as one of Kim’s secretaries. He said the president wished to thank me for my articles and asked to meet at a coffee shop in downtown Seoul. I was astonished. When we met, he presented me with several books and a presidential watch — gifts from Kim Dae-jung himself. The secretary explained that the president wanted me to know he appreciated my writing and the perspective it offered.

That moment — quiet, unexpected and deeply moving — remains one of the proudest of my life.

An editorial cartoon marks the 20th anniversary of The Korea Times, published Nov. 1, 1970. Korea Times Archive

When I think of The Korea Times at 50, I think not only of the institution but of the generations of journalists who carried forward its mission of connecting Korea with the world. Time has a way of revealing what moments truly matter, and that night at Sejong Center was one of them. I didn’t realize it then, but it marked a turning point. Writing was no longer something I simply did — it became who I was. The lessons I learned at the paper — discipline, empathy and the quiet power of words — have followed me into everything I’ve written since.

And now, 25 years later, I find myself writing once again for The Korea Times, this time to celebrate its 75th anniversary. The world has changed beyond recognition since that evening in 2000: The newsroom has gone digital, stories break in real time, and readers span continents with a single click. Yet the paper’s purpose — and my gratitude — remain unchanged. For me, The Korea Times has always been more than a publication; it is a companion on the long road of writing, reminding me that words still have the power to connect, to clarify and to endure.

A man carries newspapers in front of the Korea Times building in central Seoul, published in The Korea Times Nov. 1, 1975. Korea Times Archive

As I look back on that unforgettable night and all that followed, one word comes to mind: gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunities, for the mentors and friends I met along the way, and for the newspaper that opened the door to a life of writing.

Happy 75th anniversary to The Korea Times. And thank you — for everything.

Jeffrey Miller is the author of several novels, including "War Remains," a story about the early days of the Korean War, and "No Way Out," a thriller set in Seoul in 1990.