Please forward this error screen to sharedip-19218624772. Fall River mayor’s fate in what is short selling Laurel J. TROOPER TROUBLE: In a visit to the Herald Monday, Oct.
SECOND OPINIONS: Nurses have come out on both sides on Question 1, which would affect hospital staffing. Charlie Baker opposes nurse staffing mandates on Nov. Enter the characters you see below Sorry, we just need to make sure you’re not a robot. 20, 2018, file photo, South Korean Ham Sung-chan, 93, right, hugs his North Korean brother Ham Dong Chan, 79, during the Separated Family Reunion Meeting at the Diamond Mountain resort in North Korea. Ninety-three-year-old Ham Sung-chan’s eyes widen with excitement as he describes the shock and euphoria of reuniting with his baby brother, now 79, during three days of family reunions in North Korea. But there’s a deep and bitter regret, too, and it stems from a simple bit of math: After nearly 70 years of a separation forced by a devastating 1950-53 war that killed and injured millions and cemented the division of the Korean Peninsula into North and South, Ham and his North Korean brother got a total of only 12 hours together. Ham was one of the 197 South Koreans who visited North Korea’s scenic Diamond Mountain resort from last Monday to Wednesday for rare reunions with relatives in the North.
The heart-wrenching images of elderly Koreans embracing each other for the last time continued in a second set of reunions involving around 300 South Koreans that took place from Friday to Sunday. Ham, who described the details of his trip in an Associated Press interview in his home in Dongducheon, north of Seoul. The time we spent together was too short, way too short. Just after we met, we had to depart.
Born in eastern North Korea, Ham was in his 20s, selling fish and cosmetics in the South, when war broke out in June 1950 and prevented him from returning to his hometown. Ham thought his mother was still in the North until he met her in the South in 1983, several years before her death. But he did not expect any of the three brothers he’d left in North Korea to be alive. If they weren’t killed by the war or North Korea’s devastating 1990s-era famine, he thought they would have died of old age. One of his brothers, however, 79-year-old Ham Dong Chan, was frail but still alive and eager to meet his oldest brother. But Ham’s joy when he learned of this soon gave way to anxiety. His mind raced with endless questions.