I want to pay tribute to my “samonim” in today’s editorial. Samonim means the wife of one’s teacher. One of my most influential teachers was Ed Wagner, my thesis adviser and major professor at Harvard. I wrote a piece paying tribute to him several years ago (Sept. 22, 2019). At that time, thanks to the connection provided by my old friend and retired editor of The Korea Times, Hong Soon-il, (who died two months ago at the age of 93), I reconnected with my samonim,Namhi Kim Choi Wagner.

She was appreciative that I had written a tribute to her late husband and called me to tell me so, thanks to Hong Soon-il’s telling her about the article and sending her a hardcopy of that edition of The Korea Times.

Thereafter, I would call Mrs. Wagner from time to time, just to chat. She was always so appreciative of my calls — this was mostly during the COVID-19 pandemic and since she was in her 90s, she was especially careful to isolate and not catch the disease. Whenever I called, she clearly was talking to only a few people; a neighbor helped her to order groceries and somewhat oversaw her isolation.

We had pleasant chats. I had the opportunity to ask her about her history and to hear her story. It was a story of tragedy and triumph.

She was raised in Japan before liberation. She described her father as a successful businessman who enjoyed working with the Japanese and who spoke Japanese perfectly, such that many people didn’t know he was Korean. But the disadvantage of being Korean in Japan was ever present and came to haunt her when she graduated from college there. She had attended a teachers’ college and graduated at the top of her class, and as such was most highly recommended by the college to teach at a local high school.

She went to the appointment with the principal, set up by her adviser at the college. The principal greeted her cordially and said that he was looking forward to meeting her since his good friend at the college had recommended her so highly. She saw a folder on his desk with her name on it and she saw the principal open the folder, and there with a large stamp on the top page was the word “Chosenjin” — Korean!

The principal reacted with visible shock, and his countenance changed, and in a very saccharin way said something about being unable to hire at this point. There were no openings at all, he said. And he thanked her for coming.

I asked her to tell me the tragic story of her first marriage. I knew her first husband was a reporter for the Hankook Ilbo and The Korea Times, and that he had died as he was going to report on the mainland Chinese shelling of two small islands claimed by Taiwan, Quemoy and Matsu. His ship disappeared on the trip to the islands, and the bodies of those on the ship were never recovered. Mrs. Choi had three young daughters when her husband died in 1958. Her husband was Choi Byung-woo, who had founded the Kwanhun Club, a professional association for reporters that still exists, and he was instrumental in establishing April 7 as Newspaper Day, which is still observed in Korea today. He was 34 when he died.

I asked how she came to Harvard where she had a teaching position in Korean language. She reported the connection was due to a piece of classical music, though I can’t remember if it was one of the moonlight sonatas or which piece it was. But Mr. Baxter with the Harvard-Yenching Institute had come to Korea to interview possible candidates to teach at Harvard. Mrs. Choi was on his list of possible candidates. She played her prized record player with the beautiful sonata, and as it turned out, Mr. Baxter later said he loved that music and it stuck in his head as a memory of the candidates he interviewed, and he recommended her for the job. Later she married Prof. Wagner, who at that point was a new professor at Harvard.

She always took an interest in her husband’s students and would host parties at their home in Lexington from time to time. I didn’t presume to get to know her then — she seemed so far above my lowly station as a student, but she was most cordial. Late in life she took up making beautiful pottery and held a couple of shows. I was fortunate to get one of her works.

After I published my tribute to Prof. Wagner here in this space four years ago, it gave samonim a reason to call and thank me, and we “chatted” thereafter from time to time. She was intensely supportive of her husband’s legacy and saw to his papers and research notes and materials being turned over to the Harvard Library and kept well. Indeed, Prof. Wagner’s work, as the first Ph.D. in Korean history in America, was primary. He paved the way for a field that is prospering today. And supporting him, working with him, was a charming Korean woman whom I shall always be happy to say I chatted with from time to time. She died on March 9, 2023, at age 99.


Mark Peterson (markpeterson@byu.edu) is a professor emeritus of Korean, Asian and Near Eastern languages at Brigham Young University in Utah.

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A tribute to Namhi Wagner

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31.03.2024

I want to pay tribute to my “samonim” in today’s editorial. Samonim means the wife of one’s teacher. One of my most influential teachers was Ed Wagner, my thesis adviser and major professor at Harvard. I wrote a piece paying tribute to him several years ago (Sept. 22, 2019). At that time, thanks to the connection provided by my old friend and retired editor of The Korea Times, Hong Soon-il, (who died two months ago at the age of 93), I reconnected with my samonim,Namhi Kim Choi Wagner.

She was appreciative that I had written a tribute to her late husband and called me to tell me so, thanks to Hong Soon-il’s telling her about the article and sending her a hardcopy of that edition of The Korea Times.

Thereafter, I would call Mrs. Wagner from time to time, just to chat. She was always so appreciative of my calls — this was mostly during the COVID-19 pandemic and since she was in her 90s, she was especially careful to isolate and not catch the disease. Whenever I called, she clearly was talking to only a few people; a neighbor helped her to order groceries and somewhat oversaw her isolation.

We had pleasant chats. I had the opportunity to ask her about her history and to hear her story. It was a story of tragedy and triumph.........

© The Korea Times


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