I first met Kevin Jung in 1990. He called me — a stranger — out of the blue to introduce himself, stating that he saw my name on the new admission list (I had just passed the Washington state bar). He said that since he and I shared the same last name (although I spell mine “Chung”), he knew that I was Korean. Back then, having the same last name was enough of a reason to get together for lunch, and so we did.

We met at a popular Japanese restaurant called Kumagoro, in downtown Seattle. As we talked, we found out that we had a few things in common, aside from our surname. Like me, Kevin had moved from Korea when he was in elementary school and considered himself an “in-between” — 1.5 generation. We had both spent time in Washington, D.C., attending law schools and had played organized soccer, although he said he had considered playing soccer as a pro. Kevin also told me that there were several other Korean American attorneys in the greater Seattle/Tacoma area, and that we should try to get together. As we parted, I told him that if he needed any help with anything, he should let me know. I was not being presumptuous as a brand new lawyer; it just seemed that because I was working at a large law firm and he was working by himself, I could try to get help for him. Kevin did take me up on my offer because I remember him calling to get legal forms. 

The Jung family: Kevin, Brendan, Bryan and Sally (from left to right).

A couple of years after our lunch, I contacted Kevin about participating in a new pro bono program. I had been thinking about getting together some of the KA lawyers in the area to start a legal clinic for the low-income and the elderly. I was trying to do this through a community counseling center, and I contacted several attorneys to find out if they would volunteer. I knew that Kevin would be interested because I had heard him on Korean-language radio programs speaking out on the lack of legal representation in the Korean community. This was also around the time when riots in Los Angeles had decimated many Korean-owned businesses, and a lot of people felt that some type of community legal-assistance program was needed. As I suspected, Kevin was very receptive and said such a program was critical for our community. He then came to a dinner hosted by the Korean consul general of Seattle to bring various interested parties together. True to himself, Kevin was rather outspoken and talked passionately about the unmet legal needs in the growing Korean community.

It took several more months, but the clinic finally got started in the early summer of 1992. Kevin was the first scheduled attorney, and when I saw the local Korean-language newspaper on the following Monday, I was elated that we received front-page coverage: high-priced lawyers were organizing to give something back to the community. I still remember the large picture of Kevin with the client’s face turned against the camera. Many people felt uneasy about coming to the pro bono legal clinic and wanted to remain anonymous.