Jeremy Seligson writes and shoots

Introduction to "A Walk on Lone Tree Mountain"

Currently our hill

is called “Saddle Mountain,”

because of its shape,

and also “Empty Crag Hill,”

in honor of “Empty Crane,”

the 15^th century geomancer

monk who chose Seoul

for the capital of the

Jo-seon Dynasty (1592-1910)

According to the missionary

Horace G. Underwood III,

who passed away at the age of 91,

when he was born in 1917 and grew up

on the campus of Yonsei University,

founded by his grandfather,

Horace G. Underwood I,

the neighboring hill was called

“Lone Tree Mountain,” Aside

from the two old elms

at Adorn Greatness Temple,

no other trees gave company there.

All else, including shrubs and roots,

had been cut down or dug up

by poor, cold and hungry natives

 for firewood, fuel for cooking,

heating and baths, or else

to supply the Japanese

colonizers during their

Chinese war (1931-1945).

Up until the 1970’s,

photographs show the hill barren,

only rocks blackened by fire.

Afterward, with prosperity, people

could rely on charcoal, oil and gas

and no longer consumed wood.

As a result, the slopes felt free

to be revived by Nature’s hands.

Some seeds floated over

on air, in bird feathers or

on nomadic animal fur,

also, humans’ garments,

Inaugurated in April 5, 1949

by President Rhee Syngman,

and enthusiastically encouraged by

President Park Chunghee in the 1970’s,

Arbor Day tree planting

became a patriotic duty

for all South Koreans.

Citizens trooped up this and

all other bald, beaten hills, torn up

by great wars, to plant cherry,

mulberry, plum, Rose of Sharon,

azalea, forsythia, magnolia, etc;

and flowering medicinal herbs,

until every inch of the slopes was

glorified by a rich variety of plants, a

virtual Eden, bursting with fascinating

shapes and colors, textures and scents.

These attracted pollinating insects,

like native rock and big pumpkin bees,

butterflies, crickets and cicadas,

centipedes and spiders, moths,

a sluggish species of mosquito, etc..

Of course, hungry birds dined here,

chirping and changing with the seasons,

such as pheasants and nightingales,

owls and hawks, hoopoes and

giant jays, pigmy woodpeckers and

orioles, turtle-doves and magpies,

and on the crags, crows.

Critters took up residence, too,

no more tigers and leopards,

bears and wolves, mostly

chipmunks and flying squirrels,

families of gipsy toads and frogs,

plus a couple of nasty snakes.

Humans were drawn to the slopes on

early mornings, after work on

late afternoons and holidays

~ old men would wile away their days

carefully playing Chinese checkers

or Japanese Go by the numerous

“medicinal” springs and exercise parks.

An American would frequent those paths;

ones that ran every which way to fresh

delights. He would be driven by his wife

to Seoul Foreign School each morning,

deposit their small daughter safely

on campus and then stroll out the back gate

alone into the magical refuge of green hills

which he would traverse by ever-new routes

on his way home.

Nightly, while others frequented bars, he

would return to the mountain, climbing through

the temple grounds to drink of flower and leaf,

rock and pond, again. Under the full moon,

the reflection of city lights on clouds,

or else in dark air, he could feel his way

cheerfully along.

Variously he attended an owl solo,

a nightingale duet, a frog chorus,

or cricket concert and over a period

of a dozen years produced a memory

of a growing island of green in the city,

this poem

Now the mountain has gotten back

its original names, An San,

“Saddle Mountain,”

and Mu-ak-jae, “Empty Crag Hill.”

Until the 20^th century, signal fires were lit

on its peak, relaying messages

between the capital and the Chinese border,

as well as down south along the peninsula.

During childhood, Horace G. Underwood III

rollicked on a snow sled here.

His grandmother was shot by communist

guerrillas who had knocked on her back door,

while she was serving the family tea.  

After General MacArthur’s landing

at Incheon Harbor

on September 15^th, 1950,

four days of bloody fighting ensued

against North Korean soldiers

dug in here on what

the U.S. Marines attackers

called “Hill 296.”

1, 200 NK troops died, and some

American companies suffered

up to 85% causalities.

Elderly neighbors can’t forget

seeing bodies of men, women

and children strewn all over.

Only a few survivors can recall such,

and appreciate the changes.

Now, up on Lone Tree Mountain,

overlooking the great and wonderful

City of Seoul, you can.