History is the foundation of the humanities.
A building without a foundation stone cannot exist.
Shin Chae-ho (1880-1936) once emphasized the importance of history, saying, “If one abandons one’s people, there will be no history, and if one abandons history, a people’s concept of their own country will not be strong.”
This is why we cannot turn away from those who risked their lives to migrate across the river and those who dedicated their lives to the independence movement there.
A present without a past cannot exist, and a future without a present cannot come.
Past, present, and future are like one book.
All other time zones must be connected by a single line on the same line to complete a complete narrative.
The stories that are so heartbreaking must be shared to gain power.
That invisible energy makes you realize who you are, where you came from, and why we are great.

--- p.12, from “Dreaming of a Solidarity of Memories That Will Shake Again”

What does it mean to do something that is so specific that it involves damaging one's body?
The phrase “body, feet, and hands are like parents” appears at the beginning of the classic book on filial piety, “Classic of Filial Piety,” which is said to have been written by Confucius or his disciples.
It means that preserving the body you received from your parents is the first step to filial piety.
Could it be that the people who formed the alliance didn't know that?
It is a different level from 'bob cut' which is just cutting hair.
It is a job that requires seeing blood and enduring extreme pain.
And you have to live your whole life seeing the raw fish with your own eyes.
If so, doesn't that mean that the existence of the country should take priority over the practice of filial piety?
It is a matter of pushing away filial piety as a personal emotion and filling its place with the two letters of independence.

--- p.88, from “Just, Just is Not Just”

I stayed in Vladivostok and went to Shinhanchon as if I was going to work.
The first day, I was at a loss because I had nothing left, the second day, I felt hopeless in the face of disappearance, and the third day, I felt a surge of anger in the face of reality.
We set out to find the site of the house where Lee Dong-hwi spent his final years until his death in 1935.
The traces were replaced by a store building.
The Independence Gate, which was built by Koreans to commemorate the first anniversary of the March 1st Revolution in 1920, now exists only in records.
The only trace is a single sign that reads 'Seoul Sky', meaning 'Seoul Street'.
Where was the Hanmin School playground? Where did Shin Chae-ho write? Where were the spies spying on the independence activists? Did the village, with its campfires blazing, look peaceful despite its inner feelings? Is the only thing that hasn't changed from then to now the magpie's nest on the tree branch?
Still, the reason I couldn't put the camera away was because of the memories this space held.
The reason we can throw a tantrum and ask for some mercy is because there is a power here that connects memories.
--- p.131, from “Trampled Ground”

Even if the Czechoslovakian Legion handed over weapons cheaply, arming an army requires a huge budget.
But, even if an opportunity is right in front of you, you can't just sit there and wait because you don't have the funds.
Someone might have come out with a ring that felt like callused flesh, someone might have brought out a faded hairpin from their sideburns, someone might have brought out a treasure that had been hidden somewhere in their house.
For those who don't have that, wouldn't they have told them to at least take a clay pot?
Otherwise, there would be no reason for Korean rings, silver hairpins, and brass bowls to have flooded the Czech flea markets in the past.
I guess these were other independence funds like Altolan, donated by unknown independence activists.
--- p.152, from “The Hairpin and Ring that Went to the Czech Republic”

The number of people mobilized is known to be around 9,000.
Depending on the situation, horse-drawn carriages were used to transport weapons, and when they encountered frozen ground, sleds were used.
When transporting by march, one person carried four rifles on each shoulder and ran through the rough mountain path, avoiding the snow.
Most of the carriers were farmers.
If the purchase negotiations were delayed, the farmers in Bukgando who had set out to transport the goods would feel anxious about the farming work they had left behind.
If you're unlucky, you might end up having all the weapons you bought stolen by bandits.
Help from the nearby Korean community was essential.
The villagers showed them the way safely and provided them with shelter and food.
At times, he also helped transport weapons.
When the weapons carrier finally reached its destination, the independence fighters would have welcomed them with excited hearts and teary eyes.
The victory in Bongodong and Cheongsanri is the result of these invisible efforts.

--- p.152, from “The Hairpin and Ring that Went to the Czech Republic”

The completely unexpected truth that Eom In-seop is a master spy is revealed.
If we go through the harm he inflicted on our independence movement one by one, we will be so shocked that we will almost burst out in a scream.
One spy is more frightening than a hundred, or even a thousand Japanese soldiers.
How did he, who was praised as a leader of the volunteer army, end up becoming a spy who committed murder?

--- p.164, from “The Secret Agent and the Hangul Type Theft Incident”

The door opened, through which special envoys would have passed, beneath the Taegeukgi fluttering in the wind.
I climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked across the creaking wooden floor.
It was as if that sound was signaling the beginning of time travel.
'Lee Jun-yeol died in this room!' The words written above the door were visible.
The death of Lee Jun, who passed away on the evening of July 14, 1907, remains a mystery to this day.

--- p.196, from “Lee Jun’s Great Country”

That night I had to sleep in a corner chair at the airport.
What movie do you want to watch? Sometimes, when situations like this arise, I just want to quit my work.
Then review the photos you took.
Why does each and every scene look so lonely?
Then, I suddenly become curious about the next filming location.
How empty the space is there?
It's my own way of calming myself down when I want to let go.

--- p.222, from “Some Principles of Work”

Sovietskaya Hill, a little outside the city center.
This is the site where about 400 people were shot during the April Massacre.
It is also presumed that Choi Jae-hyung died here.
While staying in Ussuriysk, I climbed the hillside path every day.
One day I chose the morning breeze, another day when the sun was high in the sky, and another day I chose the twilight hour.
At first, I took pictures honestly, one by one.
There wasn't a single cut that was too much.
Then he shook the camera and fired the strobe like crazy.
If you don't like this either, take out your tripod, put on a filter, and let the time pass.
Later on, I even ran around with a camera.
Every time I climbed the hill, I was faced with a vague feeling and had a hard time finding my way because I didn't know where to go.
All I could do was hold my camera and struggle in front of the slaughterhouse on the hill.
Then, I saw the sun setting next to a cross that had nothing to do with anyone's death and trudged down the hill.
As the steps increased, the question, 'What kind of light did he see that caused his death?', which I couldn't shake off with each step, grew in size.
And the next day, I was forced to climb the hill again in search of the dreams of someone who had not been saved.
--- p.263, from “Struggle on a Hill”

Hong Beom-do, a man as tall as a tree.
His granddaughter, Mrs. Kim Ala, was not officially recognized as Hong Beom-do's blood relative.
Of course, biologically, Hong Beom-do's blood is not mixed in.
To be precise, you should consider them his family.
Because family can be formed without having to share blood.
What matters is not her direct lineage, but any memories she has.
That is why Mrs. Kim Ala's existence is important.
That memory can have power as its own proof.
The gun holster and worn-out photo of Hong Beom-do that she presented are evidence that she wants people to see her as herself.
However, some argue that it is necessary to verify whether they are truly Hong Beom-do's.
The standard by which we look at Mrs. Kim Ala, who was one of the people who had to prove herself and lived through a time when she could not prove herself, is the gaze of whether it is real or fake.
That cold, cruel gaze continues even now.

--- p.276, from “Hong Beom-do’s Half-Seat Photographs”

Leaving the city and heading south along the bumpy dirt road next to the railroad tracks, you will come across Chesnokov Station, the site of the Free City Massacre.
The steam locomotive water tower that remains here, where freight trains mainly stop, is a symbol of the Free City disaster.
Some of the independence fighters were stationed around this water tower in what was once the village of Suraseph.
The water tower must have looked down on the chaos of the bloody and gunpowder-smelling scene, where an unexpected civil war, not a civil war, had broken out.
The sole witness unwittingly became a symbol of the tragedy, bearing the brunt of it all.

--- p.303, from “I hope we never fight among ourselves again”

What I wanted to capture was a photograph that resists oblivion and concealment.
I wanted a single photograph to actively confront oblivion and bring it back to memory.
The past must be understood.
That knowledge must be based on a reflective attitude.
That is the quickest way to clear the haze from oblivion to memory.
I hope that Mrs. Svetlana's hazy face has helped us re-evaluate the past, bringing to mind those who have driven oblivion, and that this story and these photographs have fulfilled their purpose, helping to shape a true map of memory.

--- p.352, from “The Unremembered”