by Laura Ling
Now, every few days, I was allowed a new book, and I pored through each one. They were my escape into other worlds. I seemed to find a parallel to my own situation in nearly every novel. In The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Huck reflects on the boredom of living under the care of the strict widow, Miss Watson. “Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn’t no use. I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead.” As I peered out the window in the guards’ room, I felt Huck’s despair.
Along with books, I was allowed to read a few magazines at a time. Family and friends had included an array of publications including the New Yorker, Vanity Fair, People, Glamour, and InStyle. I’d never been as up to speed on the latest Hollywood celebrity gossip as I was during my time in captivity. My guards were interested in the fashion magazines. One day, Min-Jin asked if she could read the Glamour. “Of course,” I said and handed it to her. As she was flipping through the pages, Hyung-Yee walked into the room and began looking on as well. They glanced over at me and put their fingers over their mouths, indicating that I shouldn’t tell anyone they were reading the fashion magazine. I immediately became nervous. I had no problem giving anything to my guards if they asked for it; they were my guards after all. But I was not about to do anything that could get me in any more trouble than I already was. At the same time, I didn’t want to fracture the bond I had worked so hard to build with them. I decided my relationship with my guards was less important than jeopardizing my already dire situation.
I waited anxiously for the girls to finish perusing the magazine and then said to them, “I’m sorry to say this, but I can’t let you look at these magazines if you don’t have permission. I can’t do anything that might cause any more problems for me. I really need to get home to see my family. I hope you understand.” They nodded in acknowledgment.
“We understand,” said Min-Jin. “It’s no problem. We just wanted to have a quick look.”
“Okay, great,” I said, relieved that I hadn’t burned a bridge with them.
One evening, while watching the nightly news report, I saw an image of Roxana Saberi, the Iranian-American reporter who had been arrested in January while living and working in Iran. I was familiar with Roxana’s case because it became international news after Saberi was detained for allegedly purchasing a bottle of wine in Iran. My North Korean guards were fixated on the report. After the newscaster finished, there was an awkward silence in the room. The guards whispered to each other while stealing glances at me. I asked what the report was about. One of them explained that Saberi had just been sentenced to eight years in prison for espionage. The news about Saberi put me in a daze. I suspected that the North Koreans were paying attention to her case, and might even look to her situation as a model for ours. Feeling defeated, I retreated to my room in tears as the guards continued to murmur to each other.
EACH TIME MR. YEE took me outdoors for a walk, I asked him if he’d heard any news or knew of any progress.
“Your government doesn’t care about you,” he said to me one day. “They are trying to keep things quiet. You’re not important enough to them.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “They don’t care about us. We don’t work for the government. We’re just private citizens. The government is not going to get involved in our case.”
I wanted to temper whatever expectations existed about our value. I knew that if the North Koreans were hoping for a big prize from the U.S. government in exchange for our release, the chances of our going home would be slim. I was hoping some sort of private monetary exchange might be sufficient.
“I think my family could raise some money so that they could pay the government a fine for our crime,” I suggested. “Perhaps they could raise one or two hundred thousand dollars.”
Again I was trying to reduce their expectations by suggesting an amount that wasn’t overly exorbitant.
“We don’t care about money,” he responded. “That is what you value in your country—money and possessions. Here, things are different. Your government must do something. Our countries are at war, and you are a citizen of the United States. Your government must act.”
He indicated that in the case of another American detainee, Evan Hunziker, who was arrested while swimming in the Yalu River along the Chinese–North Korean border, the U.S. government sent an envoy, then congressman Bill Richardson.
“What if the chairman of my company, former Vice President Al Gore, came as an envoy,” I suggested. “Would that be acceptable?”
“Al Gore is a private citizen now. He’s not connected to the government,” he replied.
“Yes, but he is close to President Obama,” I explained. “He’s also a Nobel Peace Prize winner. He’s probably one of the most popular postpolitical figures in the entire world. And I know he would be willing to come here.”
He thought about this as we walked along. “That might be a good idea,” he said, nodding.
Finally, he’d given me a response that offered a tangible way forward. I felt relatively confident that Al Gore had already offered himself as an envoy, and was continuing to do so. But I wanted to be sure.
Ever since my meeting with Ambassador Foyer, when the ambassador told me that I had a right to send letters, I’d been asking Mr. Yee if I could write to my family. “I will think about it” was always his response. I tried to persuade him that I could use my letters to express the need for urgent action, and then my government would understand the gravity of our situation.
During one of our walks, Mr. Yee asked to whom I would write, if I were allowed to send out letters. I told him I wanted to write letters to my family, to my sister, to my husband, to my boss and CEO at Current TV, and to my colleagues. He asked what I planned to write to each one of them. I discussed what I wanted to say in general terms. Strategically, I wanted to convey specific messages to my sister, who had contacts in the United States that could be helpful to our situation, and to my bosses at Current TV. I also hoped to write to my family, husband, and colleagues. I wanted to comfort them and let them know I was hanging in there and being as strong as possible.
“You must express the need to act swiftly,” he chimed in. “If you go to trial, you will undoubtedly be given a very long sentence because of the nature of your crimes.”
I knew his message had to be part of the government’s overall plan. If he was telling me to pressure my family to act quickly before a trial, he must truly believe or know there was some sort of opening for negotiation. I took this as a positive sign, despite the growing tension between the United States and North Korea.
I was allowed to write the letters in mid-April, but it would be a month before I was able to give them to Ambassador Foyer during our second meeting.
LISA
ON MAY 11, MY mom, Iain, Paul, and I flew to Washington, D.C., to meet first with Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and then with the Chinese ambassador to the United States, Zhou Wenzhong.
Even though China had not been active on our issue, three months had elapsed and we figured we had nothing to lose by asking for the Chinese government’s help. Euna’s husband, Michael, and daughter, Hana, joined us for the meeting with the secretary of state. The secretary’s office also invited former Vice President Gore to attend because of his role as chairman of Laura and Euna’s employer, Current TV. Plus, he had obviously known the secretary of state for a long time, and she thought it would be a good idea to have him in the meeting.
In her stately office, with Deputy Assistant Secretary Jim Steinberg as well as Kurt Tong, Linda McFadyen, and a number of other official-looking State Department colleagues in tow, Secretary Clinton expressed her concern about Laura and Euna’s detainment. She told us that getting the girls back was important to her, both as America’s chief diplomat and as the mother of a daughter. We felt consoled by how compassionate she was. There was a softness about her that doesn’t always come through on television, and for that we were grateful.
“This is a uniquely American issue,” I urged. “Surely, other countries should understand that this has nothing to do with the larger geopolitical issues.”
Photographic Insert
All-American girls with our all-American dolls.
This portrait of our paternal grandparents, Lien and H.T. Ling, was taken in 1946 in Nanjing, China.
This was a trip to a temple in Taipei, Taiwan, in 1948 to celebrate the birth of Black Dragon’s second son to his second wife (right) . Our grandmother, Mrs. Wang (left), is carrying our mother.
This photograph was taken in 1953 at a sixtieth birthday gathering for our great-grandmother (seated in the center). Our maternal grandfather, known as Black Dragon, is in the center wearing the dark shirt. Our grandmother, his first wife, is standing next to him. Next to her are his concubines. The man next to Black Dragon is his brother and next to him are his two wives. Most of the children in this picture belong to the two brothers. Our mother stands just below Black Dragon.
Our parents, Douglas and Mary, on their wedding day, March 8, 1969.
This is a photo of Laura just a couple of weeks after she was born in December 1976. Lisa was so excited to have a baby sister, or “Baby Girl,” as she would call Laura.
Here we are with our grandmother, Lien Ling, who helped raise us, and made us memorize every church hymnal in the book.
Dad and his girls in 1977.
Here we are with our mother in 1980.
Laura and Iain dated for seven years before finally tying the knot on June 26, 2004.
Laura and Iain having fun with their bridal party in the courtyard at the Pacific Asia Museum in Pasadena, California. From left to right: Dorothy Fong, Michael Tummings, Laura, Iain, Lisa, Jean Roh, Josh Clayton, and Charles Clayton.
At Lisa’s wedding on May 26, 2007. You’d never know our parents were divorced from this family photo. They were even color-coordinated.
Laura and Doug celebrating Lisa’s wedding.
In June 2007, Lisa went to North Korea with Dr. Sanduk Ruit, where he performed cataract operations. Here, hundreds of people are lined up in Pyongsong, North Korea, to get checked by Dr. Ruit and his team.
In much of the world, cataracts occur in elderly patients. Due to severe conditions, many North Korean children are stricken with it. This is a young North Korean child who had just undergone a cataract operation on his right eye.
After a successful cataract operation performed by Dr. Ruit’s team, this woman rushed to the portraits of the Great and Dear Leaders to thank them for restoring her vision.
Lisa and a man she asked to take a picture with in a park in Sariwon, North Korea. He is wearing a pin with a portrait of North Korea’s Great Leader, Kim Il Sung. The documentary Lisa made after this trip was highly critical of the North Korean regime.
Laura’s last assignment before going to China was for a Current TV documentary about the drug wars in Mexico. Here she is with producer Mitch Koss, who is filming her in front of a military base in Tijuana.
Lisa and Laura on New Year’s Day, two and a half months before Laura’s arrest.
In June 2009, Iain spoke at a vigil held at the San Francisco Academy of Art.
Iain sent dozens of letters and photographs to Laura while she was in captivity. In this one, he is holding a special message for Laura (he calls her “b”).
Lisa and her husband, Paul Song, at a Los Angeles vigil for Laura and Euna.
This vigil in support of bringing Laura and Euna home was held in Los Angeles on June 4, 2009. It was one of a number of gatherings that took place the day Laura and Euna’s trial was to begin.
Anderson Cooper’s 360 broadcast live from this vigil, where Lisa, Euna’s husband, Michael Saldate, and Iain appeared. It was believed that North Korea’s Dear Leader watched CNN, so this live shot was orchestrated to happen the morning of Laura and Euna’s trial in the hope that he would be watching.
Our father spoke at a vigil on July 9 in our hometown of Sacramento, on the steps of the capitol. The next day, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton asked the government of North Korea to grant amnesty to Laura and Euna.
This photograph, taken on August 4, 2009, of the jubilant North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il, and a stoic President Bill Clinton in Pyongyang was seen all over the world.
Iain, Lisa, and Mary holding a December 7, 2007, copy of GQ magazine on which President Bill Clinton graced the cover (not sure why we saved this old issue). They had just learned that Laura and Euna were safely on the plane headed home. Lisa e-mailed the photo to Doug Band, who showed it to President Clinton while on the plane.
This photograph, taken by President Clinton’s close adviser, Doug Band, is of the vehicle carrying Laura and Euna to the airport in Pyongyang. Band wanted to make sure the car with Laura and Euna was never out of his sight.
While the plane taxied on the runway, Euna and Laura looked through the cockpit to see their families anxiously awaiting their arrival.
Just moments before the plane landed in Burbank, California, on August 5, 2009, Laura and Euna posed for this photograph with President Clinton and his team. From left to right: Justin Cooper, Dr. Roger Band, President Bill Clinton, Euna Lee, Laura Ling, Min Ji Kwon, Doug Band, David Straub, and John Podesta.
Mary hugging Laura moments after her return, while Iain and Lisa look on.
From left to right: Charles Clayton, Vice President Al Gore, Iain, Laura, President Bill Clinton, Lisa, Paul Song, Mary, and Doug.
In September 2009, our family threw a luncheon at Woo Lae Oak restaurant in Arlington, Virginia, to thank Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and State Department colleagues who helped with our case.
Kurt Tong (left) and Linda McFayden (center) of the U.S. Department of State were our regular government contacts and friends during Laura’s captivity. We were so happy that Swedish ambassador to North Korea, Mats Foyer (right) , happened to be visiting the United States when we threw the luncheon and was also able to attend. Ambassador Foyer was Laura’s lifeline to her family and the outside world.
Without explaining how, Deputy Assistant Secretary Steinberg said that overtures had been made to North Korea to have direct talks about Laura and Euna, but there had been no response. Secretary Clinton reiterated the importance of maintaining low visibility so as not to raise the stakes and possibly provoke the people who were holding Laura and Euna. She strongly suggested that we continue not speaking publicly about the matter.
Then Al Gore chimed in. He told Secretary Clinton that he would be willing to go to North Korea if the opportunity presented itself.
To that, she remarked, “That’s not a bad idea, Al. That just might work.”
I was worried about what this would mean for Governor Richardson. No one in the room knew I had been communicating with him. If Gore were appointed to this mission, would the governor be out? I had only one objective, but I wondered if a change might result in the bruising of egos. The governor had become a confidant, and I knew he took our case very seriously. Still, at the end of the day, all I cared about was getting my sister out, no matter who was taking it on. I even thought the more people trying, the better.
That same day, we went to see Ambassador Zhou at the newly built Chinese Embassy in Washington. Designed by the two sons of renowned architect I. M. Pei, this structure is an imposingly modern, sleek symbol of China’s emergence. Even though Governor Richardson had told me that the North Koreans loathed having to answer to China, we hoped that given our Chinese descent, the Chinese government might help us somehow. We presented Ambassador Zhou with a Hermès tie upon entering the room. He was formal but kind enough.
We told him we believed the North Korean soldiers crossed into China to apprehend Laura and Euna. We asked if the Chinese government would raise this with the government of North K
orea.
“I’m sorry but we cannot help you,” he replied. “First of all, they were inside China without the appropriate visa.”
What the ambassador said was true. Laura and her team had gone to China as tourists instead of journalists because they wanted to avoid the watchful eyes of Chinese government officials while reporting on the controversial issue of trafficking. In other words, he made it clear that we shouldn’t look to China for help. That said, he kept the tie.
Meanwhile, Al Gore became a man on a mission. He had been engaged from the start, but after our meeting with Secretary Clinton, he went from taking cues from the State Department to becoming an active player in the game North Korea was perpetrating. Getting the girls out was among the most important things on his list of priorities. Additionally, the State Department had apparently found another means of communicating with North Korea outside of the “New York channel,” and Gore allowed himself to be presented as an envoy to this other source. He was certainly a formidable candidate: a former vice president of the United States, former presidential candidate, Nobel Peace Prize winner, and chairman of the company that employed Laura and Euna.