"Cried Loudly in Front of the Completely Collapsed House"... Wildfire Evacuees Lost Their Place to Go [Report]

411 Evacuees Gather at Andong Gymnasium
Wildfire Destroys Not Only Homes but Also Fields
"All We Feel Is Uncertainty About When We Can Return Home"

"When I close my eyes, I see fireballs flickering everywhere. I cried my heart out in front of the house that completely collapsed."

Disaster victims resting at a shelter set up in Andong Gymnasium, Andong-si, Gyeongbuk. They are watching the real-time wildfire updates on the electronic display board. Photo by Lee Eun-seo.

On the afternoon of the 27th, at Andong Gymnasium in Andong-si, Gyeongbuk Province, I met Mr. Shim Hyo-seop (68, Gwimi-ri, Iljik-myeon), who said his chest had felt heavy since yesterday. His house had turned into ashes due to the wildfire that engulfed the Yeongnam region. Having come to this house as a bride at 23 and spent over 40 years there, Mr. Shim lost both his home and a 700-pyeong peach orchard overnight. He wiped away tears, saying, "Not even a single spoon was left; even the compost all burned down." He added, "At least five chickens survived the flames. I heard noises from a corner, and when I went there, they were huddled together, so I let them go to find their own way and came to the shelter."

The wildfire that started in Uiseong, Gyeongbuk, spread to the southern part of Andong, deepening the worries of evacuees who took refuge in shelters. The news that the flames could spread to downtown Andong brought a double burden of fear and despair.

At Andong Gymnasium, which I visited that day, 111 tents were tightly set up. This temporary shelter was arranged for 411 evacuees (as of 7 a.m. on the 28th) from areas directly affected by the wildfire, such as Gilan-myeon and Iljik-myeon. Most evacuees were elderly people who had farmed fields or tended orchards. They wandered around the gymnasium or sat on mats placed in front of their tents, staring into space with heavy hearts. Some evacuees, still wearing their work clothes from days spent in the fields, wiped away tears while talking on the phone with their children or neighbors.

Inside Andong Gymnasium, where about 100 tents are densely lined up. Next to the tents, various control rooms and mats are set up. Photo by Eunseo Lee.

The uncontrollable wildfire turned not only fields but also various farming tools, tillers, and cold storage into ashes. Ms. Jogeum-hee (72), an evacuee, said, "When I went back today, there were no clothes, dishes, farming tools, or even the wooden boxes used to grow shiitake mushrooms?they all burned down." She added, "The green onions and garlic I planted last year to eat in spring all withered."

Mr. Kwon Oh-bong (81), who escaped with only the thought of surviving the fire, said, "It felt like the fire was jumping over 100 meters every second." He added, "If I had stayed just 10 minutes longer, I would have brought 100 sets of clothes, but when the fire came, there was no time for that."

Mr. Lee Jae-yeon (78) swallowed his tears alone every evening. Showing the press photos of a yard full of wildflowers, he said, "Wildflowers like pheasant's leg, stone saxifrage, and crowfoot all got scorched and died in the fire." He added, "Watching the flower buds form and bloom was my only joy, but now it feels so empty."

A disaster victim from Myeongjin 2-ri, Iljik-myeon, Andong-si, Gyeongbuk, is showing the reporters the burned state of their village. Photo by Eunseo Lee.

Evacuees who lost their lifelong homes expressed their despair to the press. Ms. Kim Jeong-ja (86), who built a new house in Mukgye-ri, Gilan-myeon, Andong, five years ago, said, "Even if I cook rice, wouldn't it be more comfortable to be at my own home?" She added, "Even though they serve good meals and beef at the shelter, it tastes really bad." She continued, "I saved money all my life and even borrowed to build the new house, but when the fire went out and I went back, only the brick walls stood like a stone fence," expressing her emptiness.

Mr. Park Dae-gyeong (82), another evacuee, said, "The house burned down completely, and when the wind blows, only dust flies around. I didn't even let my son see it." He added, "The roof curled up like paper scraps as if a war had broken out, sticking tightly to the ground."

With no end in sight to their evacuation, evacuees feel frustrated about when they can return to their daily lives. Mr. Lee Soo-ryong (90) said, "When I lie down to sleep, tears silently flow." He added, "If I have to live here, then I live, but even if I go to the village, I might just stand in the fields," expressing his despair. Mr. Lee Tae-gu (85), who was listening nearby, also said, "I don't know how long I have left, but before I die, I want to go into my house and sleep comfortably."