One of the fun things about unveiling a project that you’ve been working on for years is to see the reaction—and to see what comes out of the woodwork.
Since the spring, when I first took KOREAN MESSIAH on the road, I’ve spoken to lots of readers of Korean heritage who have told me about Christian grandparents or relatives from what is today North Korea, but who hadn’t heard the story of how it all happened: that it was Pyongyang, not Seoul, that was the center of Christendom on the Korean peninsula; that Kim Il Sung’s own family had been part of that explosion of the faith. For many people, learning those two things helps explain a lot—and connects some of the dots that got me so excited about diving into this project in the first place.
While touring the book, I also heard from descendants of some of the central characters in the book. No, not the Kim family (!!), but the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of William Baird, the Indiana missionary who played a key supporting role in my book, alongside Samuel Moffett, his classmate, colleague, and best friend. Together, Moffett and Baird were instrumental in turning Pyongyang from the Sodom of Korea into the “Jerusalem of the East”—and together, it was Baird and Moffett who raised Kim Jong Un’s great-grandparents in the faith.
One of the Baird descendants, Brandeis University professor Dan Bergstresser, shared some family photos—one circa 1882, where Moffett, Baird, and Baird’s future wife, Annie Laurie Adams, pose at Hanover College in Madison, Indiana; and another circa 1931, from the North Korean city of Kanggye, of a Presbyterian hunting party, featuring members of the Baird clan.
But perhaps the most unforgettable encounter during my April-May book tour of the East Coast came at Columbia University, where Joseph Terwilliger, a tuba-playing neurobiologist and geneticist, raised his hand during the Q&A to tell the room about the time he accompanied Dennis Rodman to Pyongyang on one of his four “basketball diplomacy” trips between 2013 and 2017.
At one dinner in Pyongyang, Terwilliger remembered bowing his head in prayer as the man known as “the Worm“ vehemently insisted that everyone—yes, Kim Jong Un included—stand up and bow their heads as the NBA’s all-time record-holder for consecutive rebounding titles said grace before partaking of the meal. And yes, Terwilliger recounts, Kim stood and dutifully bowed his head. (Joe later came through Beijing, where we snapped that photo.)
One of the great regrets of publishing is learning only afterwards about some of the amazing details that you could have squeezed into the book—if only you had known about it before publication. Alas, the nature of book writing (and journalism) is that, often, you only find out afterwards. But, as I head back out on the road this week, I’m looking forward to hearing more zany stories.
Before I wrap up, one update: I’ve made it to the Cundill History Prize shortlist!
Now, it’s off to Hong Kong. 應間見!