Once upon the inhospitable West, struggling Korean churches shared one common fate and hope with their more established black counterparts in post-Emancipation Dixieland.

The newcomers from the conquered kingdom fought for independence, and the latter battled Jim Crow for equality.

Their community-based churches were home to humble folks: itinerant farmhands, laborers and domestic workers, jobless or between jobs, or between crops.

 These grassroots preachers, mostly unpaid or underpaid, held menial jobs, while tending the needs and hopes of the lonely flock as their spiritual and community leaders.

But hidden or hardly known were the grinding hardships their wives and children had endured in the shadows.

Such was the life and times of Paul Whang, the first American born to the legendary pastor Whang Sa-Sun of the Korean Methodist Church in San Francisco, and his long-suffering family.

Historian B. Y. Choy, author of “Koreans in America,” who knew the iconic figure for decades, recalls: “Hundreds of Korean students and political refugees received advice, counsel and help in securing jobs. Many stayed at [Whang Sa-Sun’s] home until they found a place to live or got jobs. … He gave no attention to his own personal gains or glory but always concerned himself with the welfare and interests of others.”

BACK ROW, LEFT TO RIGHT: Yim Chung Koo, Whang Sa-Sun and Cho Sung Hak. Middle row: Whang Ai Sung, Chang Tai Sun (Paul’s mom and Sa-Sun’s first wife), Whang Sa Yong (Sa-Sun’s older brother) and Whang In Sung. • FRONT?ROW: Kay Yim, Elizabeth Whang, Paul Whang, Dan Cho and Paul Cho.

The seminary-educated independence fighter joined the church in 1915, and rose from local preacher, to assistant minister and finally senior minister in 1930, dedicating the first Korean church building in the mainland, while holding down odd jobs.

Throughout, his home/church belonged to his flock and community, touching almost every member of the nowhere tribe in exile.

 Years after his passing, 79-year-old widow Ok-Suk confessed in her 1980 interview, “As a pastor’s wife, I had no time for myself. For 24 hours my heart was heavy. So was my head. I longed for an ordinary wife’s life. ‘When will you leave pastoral work?’ I would plead with him. His stock answer: ‘You should be grateful that we are doing the Lord’s work.’

“When he retired [in 1942], I realized my longings for comfortable life was wrong. I really felt sorry for my husband and the Lord. So I repented in my prayers, shedding much tears.”

On April 4, 2005, Paul, the lone surviving son of the legend died in peace at age 99, surrounded by family members, blowing a kiss goodbye to his great-granddaughter Jaylyn minutes before.

    He was cremated, his ashes put into a small earthen urn together with two rocks he brought back from his memorable 1989 visit to North Korea: one from Shinuiju, his parents’ hometown, on the shore of the Yalu River, and the other from the famed mountains known as Geumgangsan.

Paul Whang at Geumgangsan, also known as Diamond Mountain.

    Three years earlier, in his 2002 interview with K.W. Lee, he sat with better-half Ruth, 83, at their neat two-story house overlooking the San Francisco Bay and reflected on their unsung journey.