'After You Left': a poem by the father of Christina Yuna Lee

Correction: a previous version of this post contained a typo that’s since been corrected. Christina Yuna Lee was killed on February 13th, 2022, not 2012.

When Christina Yuna Lee moved to Chinatown, in a three story walk-up across from Columbus park, her Dad, Sung Son Lee, warily eyed the neighborhood. “I told her, ‘There are so many homeless shelters here. Isn’t it dangerous?’” His politically progressive daughter chided him. “They’re just poor, they’re not dangerous!” she said. 35-year-old Lee, a senior creative producer, had long been involved in environmental causes and human rights.

She was right—homeless people are no more likely to be violent than anyone else. But sometimes, dangerous people might end up unhoused. On the night of February 13th, 2022, 25-year-old Assamad Nash, who’d been staying at a nearby shelter, followed Lee up 6 flights of stairs to her apartment and barged in and attacked her with a knife. When police finally got to the scene, Lee was lying dead in her bathtub.

“Finally got to the scene” is the operative variable here. After Lee’s horrific death, all the usual characters blamed criminal justice reform, changes to the bail law (even though Nash’s pending cases were not the result of bail reform). But no one — no one — asked why it took police an hour and 20 minutes to enter the apartment.

That is, until Lee’s family started asking. They’re certain that Lee—who was stabbed 40 times—could have been saved if police broke into the apartment while she was still alive and they’re suing the city for negligence. When Lee started screaming, her neighbors called 911 and officers arrived within three minutes. They reported that they heard a woman screaming … and then stood outside her door for an hour and 20 minutes, waiting for the Emergency Services Unit to arrive.

The NYPD claimed the door had been “barricaded.” But that’s also what the Uvalde police claimed and it turned out the door in Uvalde hadn’t even been locked. Even if her front door had been “barricaded” her apartment is easily accessible through the fire escape. Furthermore, the Emergency Services Unit is supposed to be ready to instantly deploy 24/7. Why did it take an hour and 20 minutes for them to get to Lee’s place, which is three blocks away from the precinct?

I was at the “riot” in Union Square yesterday. I approached some guys from ESU and asked them how long it takes to deploy. They declined to tell to me—"You seem like a nice young lady but you have to go through media relations”—but one of them did offer that he hadn’t even heard of the Lee case, so it doesn’t appear that the incident inspired a lot of soul searching within the NYPD.

I should have a long feature about Lee and police poor response to emergencies coming soon. But I wanted to share the family’s demands for the city:

First, we wish to name one of the homeless shelters near Manhattan’s Chinatown the “Christina

Yuna Lee Memorial Shelter.” It will remind New York of the importance of crime prevention and giving

care to those who need it. This demand is based on our family’s wish that no one falls victim to a sudden

yet preventable death like Yuna’s.

Second, our family has no desire to be involved in this lawsuit for years to come. It is our wish to

come to a swift and fair settlement with the City—every penny of the award will be donated to a

homeless shelter named after Yuna to aid and support New York’s unhoused population.

We believe this is the way to honor Yuna, who was taken much too soon from the family and

friends who loved her dearly.

Lee’s father wanted to share a poem he wrote about Christina.

After You Left

If you miss someone, 

try walking in the dark

You may not see anything,

but it’s never empty.

You are there, hidden in the dark. 

The wind carries with it your scent, or you could bloom as a flower to greet me. Now I am at peace. 

Nothing is gone forever— You and I, though we are apart for now, we’ll meet again when it’s time and we’ll say our temporary goodbyes when it’s time 

What more is there to feel?