Over the passage of time, my hair has thinned, but I make it a rule to go to Munhwa Barber’s Shop, located in an alley behind the Jogye Buddhist Temple, once a month. I have been a loyal customer of this place for nearly 30 years.
Its owner, Mr. Choi, has a strongly conservative view on social issues, unlike some of his old clients who worked for the media organizations near his shop, namely the Hankook Ilbo-Korea Times and Yonhap News Agency. Our opinions may not be identical, but he trims my gray hair exactly the way I like it, varying by the hot and cold seasons. He receives 8,000 won for his half-hour service, including shampooing and a short finish styling with the dryer.
The last time I went to the barber’s, Mr. Choi had just returned from a trip to China to visit his son, who runs a taekwondo gym in Tianjin. Choi junior had opened a gym first in Shenyang, where he met a Chinese girl who was working for a local sports organization. They married, and the bride happened to be the only child of a “billionaire” of Shenyang, according to Mr. Choi.
“My in-law’s house was large beyond imagination. My son told me to retire and live comfortably either in Seoul or with him in Tianjin. I told him ‘no.’ Traveling to famous places in China, I felt numb in my hands and arms. I need to work with these scissors for as long as I can, as long as you guys come to this place. What do you think, Elder Kim?” he asked me.
As I am a deacon at a Presbyterian church in Eunpyeong-gu, he calls me by my church title. Of course, I supported his decision, not solely because I did not want to lose my trusted barber, but I believed that his career in the tiny shop where a coal briquette boiler is still in use was the prettiest kind of life. Yet, it means an indefinite waiting for Mr. Choi’s assistant, the mustached Mr. Kim, to whom the owner has promised to turn over the business when he retires.
Mr. Choi is a lucky man, or “blessed” in the Christian term. Sitting in one of the four chairs in the Munhwa Barber’s, I thought of two other men who earned far greater material rewards through lifelong hard work and different pursuits than the quiet, modest one of Mr. Choi. One was my fellow elder at Somang Church, Park Rae-chang, and the other was the late Sung Woan-jong whose suicide earlier this month rocked Korea’s political world.
Park, who served as president of the Christian Businessmen’s Committee Korea chapter and chair of the National Elders Association of Korea (of the Presbyterian Church), wrote a memoir and sent the manuscript to me the other day for advice and editing. Meanwhile, I had read excerpts of Sung’s autobiography in online and print media in search of explanations to the many questions left by his death. (Sung’s 2007 book was not available in bookstores.)
Both men made fortunes, Park in the textile business and Sung in construction, from extreme childhood adversities that led to scant education. Entering the business world in their 20s, they grasped success in their start-up ventures with diligence, innovative ideas and a little luck, tiding over occasional hurdles with strong willpower. They both sought social recognition for their rags-to-riches lives, but Sung’s strategy was to buy power with money. He apparently hanged himself when he realized the golden shield he had procured could not protect him.
Park’s father, a Salvation Army officer, was slain by communist guerrillas that were in control of his native Mururi village in Imsil County and the Mount Jirisan area during the Korean War (1950-53). Recovering the remains of his father from a mass grave and burying them in a hillside, Park and his older brother came to Seoul, and the two teenage boys earned a living by shining shoes and delivering newspapers.
After military service, Park found a job in the East Gate Market and opened a fashion textile dealer’s shop with the help of a leading trader in the booming clothing industry of the 1970s. In the following decades, Park’s Bochang Corp. became a reputed supplier of high-quality color cotton fabric needed for local designer brands. Park himself regularly made visits to Milan, Paris and other European cities to “investigate” fashion trends until he decided to retire a few years ago.
He spent a lot of money on supporting financially weak churches and preachers and in the operation of Christian organizations. He accepted various honorable titles in the Christian community, which he seems to appreciate as due reward for his efforts of life that he made in total dependence on “God’s guidance,” as he says in his memoir.
Sung Woan-jong’s life was similar. After a tough childhood under uncaring father, he learned independence through years of street work in Seoul. Returning to his hometown of Seosan, South Chungcheong Province, he started a cargo forwarding business and then entered construction as a partner in a local builder. He practiced the art of bribery to win civil engineering projects and has had brushes with the law “by engaging in the entrenched custom” since he moved his business to Seoul, according to his autobiography, titled “Light of Dawn.”
To expand globally, Sung merged his Dae-A firm with Keangnam Enterprises to use its overseas construction license. As his business thrived, his political ambitions grew: He supported Park Geun-hye in the 2007 presidential nomination race, shifted his allegiance to the winner Lee Myung-bak, and then acted recently in favor of the potential presidential candidate Ban Ki-moon, the present U.N. chief. He left an apparent bribery list of eight prominent politicians to pull them into his grave in revenge for their supposed betrayal.
Park Rae-chang may not be too pleased to have his name put alongside Sung Woan-jong’s in this article. Still, he must feel relieved that he made a different choice that kept him from the dangerous temptation of power after achieving material success. Mr. Choi the barber would also gratefully compare his lot with that of the dead tycoon.
By Kim Myong-sik
Kim Myong-sik is a former editorial writer for The Korea Herald. ― Ed.
