By John Yoon
Just days prior to embarking on a trip from which he would never return, Oh Jaejin’s father was filled with joy at the news of becoming a grandfather after Oh shared that his wife was expecting.
“He mentioned that he was on the verge of tears,” recalled Oh, 37, as he remembered his father’s reaction to the joyful news shared earlier this month. On Sunday, Oh’s father lost his life along with 178 others when the aircraft, Jeju Air Flight 7C2216, crashed while attempting to land at an airport in the southwestern region of South Korea after departing from Bangkok.
The tragedy, recognized as the deadliest aviation disaster in recent history, transformed the airport in Muan County into a scene of immense sorrow and disbelief for the countless relatives of the victims who had hurried there. On Tuesday, that loss intensified as officials gradually brought families to a temporary morgue set up in the airport hangar, outside the terminal, to identify the bodies retrieved from the charred and destroyed fuselage.
The efforts to reconstruct hundreds of body parts have been arduous, but authorities reported that by Tuesday morning, 170 bodies had been identified, with four families receiving their loved ones. The crash was so catastrophic that only two individuals aboard survived — crew members who are now hospitalized in Seoul. A memorial altar was being established on the first floor of Muan airport on Tuesday, allowing relatives and visitors to place flowers.
The victims comprised toddlers and grandparents, whole families, groups of friends, and couples. To those anxiously waiting at the airport this week, these individuals represented their sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, and children.
Many of the victims’ families lived nearby. Residents of the coastal area have a long history of fishing and rice farming, although many have also been employed in petrochemical, steel, and shipbuilding industries since the country’s modernization began in the 1960s.
South Jeolla province — home to the airport, the only international one in the region — has the oldest demographic in the nation, with many young people relocating to Seoul for enhanced job prospects.
One individual expressed that he had lost his nephew, who had traveled to Thailand with his entire family, including his spouse, two children, and mother-in-law. Another person shared that both of his parents were among the victims.
At 64, Oh’s father was vacationing in Bangkok with seven childhood companions from Mokpo, a neighboring city. Oh mentioned that in recent years, his father frequently enjoyed golfing with them during their leisure time.
Oh last saw his father, who ran a small shop near Mokpo, on Christmas when he and his wife brought him kimchi. Just this month, he had informed his father about the pregnancy, sharing that the baby was expected to be a girl. Oh’s father last communicated with his family when Oh’s mother reached out on Saturday night for a wellness check. He replied that it was too noisy where he was and that speaking on the phone was difficult.
Oh, also a bank teller in Mokpo, indicated that his father hadn’t even shared his Thailand travel plans to avoid worrying his children. He discovered his father was on the ill-fated flight only after the crash, when his father’s friends contacted him with the news. In a rush, Oh hopped in the car with his wife and drove to the airport, where he spotted the aircraft’s tail visible on the horizon as he neared.
His mother, who arrived independently, was initially in disbelief. “Is this for real?” he recalled her exclaiming. “I can’t fathom what’s occurring.” Gradually, the grim reality settled in, overwhelming her.
Officials confirmed on Sunday night that Oh’s father was among those who perished.
However, confusion ensued, as Oh described. Transportation officials arranged for shuttles to transport families of victims whose identities had been verified from the terminal to the temporary morgue in the hangar. Arriving around midnight, Oh was anxious to see his father’s body, only to be instructed to wait for his turn.
Hours later, officials told him to leave, citing a mistake: The bodies were not yet prepared for viewing. He returned home around 6 a.m.
On his second trip to the airport, after a brief hour of rest, he noticed bodies scattered across the tarmac near the aircraft’s tail. Eventually, officials granted him access to the morgue later that day.
“I was extremely concerned — I heard that many of the bodies were burned,” he recounted. “When I finally laid eyes on him, I could distinguish his upper body, and he appeared alright.”
He inquired about the rest of his father’s remains. Officials informed him that they were located elsewhere but could be recovered. This brought him some comfort.
“It seemed like it was likely a quick death,” he remarked.
Later that day, Oh was advised that it might take up to 10 days for the remains of all victims to be prepared for return to their families. This information brought him a sense of relief, he said. “It felt reassuring to know the anticipated timeline rather than wait indefinitely,” he noted.
While waiting, Oh began to manage his father’s affairs. He needed to shut down his father’s shop, assessing assets and liabilities. He expressed concern over how to arrange for his father’s cremation given the high number of victims but limited crematoriums.
He was also planning his father’s funeral, which has faced delays. In South Korea, funerals are typically held immediately after a person’s passing and last for three days. He was attempting to inform all of his father’s friends and acquaintances in advance but lacked access to his father’s cellphone contacts. He was taking a leave of absence from his position as a bank teller at a local agricultural cooperative.
“I’m unsure how I’ll maintain a cheerful demeanor with customers at my job once everything concludes and I return to work,” he stated. “People will inquire about my well-being, and I’ll have to respond that I’m fine.”
Oh also mentioned that Thursday was the annual memorial for his grandfather’s passing, and his mother’s birthday was approaching this weekend. His wife was anticipated to give birth in July.
“Only positive events were on the horizon,” he shared. “But my father is gone.”
Oh declared his intention to drive daily to the airport from his home in Mokpo, as if it were his routine commute, until he could retrieve his father’s remains.
“I want my father back as soon as he’s prepared,” he expressed.
