Ye Weihang, male, born in Beijing on February 10, 1970, killed when only 19 years and four months old; he was a junior in Beijing Senior High School No.57; he was killed on June 4, around 2:00 a.m., at Xinhua Park, in front of the dormitory some hundred yards east of the Muxudi bus stop; he was shot through his left arm and hit twice in the chest; his family keeps his ashes in the bedroom.
Testimony of Yin Min, mother of Ye Weihang
On June 3, 1989, at 9:00 p.m., the Chinese People's Liberation Army started a massive slaughter of unarmed Beijing citizens. The entire world was shocked by this cruel, bloody massacre!
I am a doctor, and at that time I was just visiting a child with a high fever. From that family's apartment on the sixth floor I could see my son, reviewing his lessons under a lamp in our apartment. Because he had already entered the stage of intensive review for the college entrance examinations, I felt a boundless comfort and confidence when I saw my son studying with such concentration. How in the world could I have known that this glimpse from the building across was to be our last farewell! But that senseless gunfire shook his young spirit. At a quarter past midnight my son put down the review lesson for his language class-[Lu Xun's] "In Memoriam Ms. Liu Hezhen (1904-1926)" - and went to Muxudi on his bicycle (my colleague later told me the time). After my son was shot at around 2:00 a.m. on June 4, four young people took turns carrying him on their backs to the surgical ward of the Navy General Hospital (a surgeon told me this the next day), trying to save him. My son was shot three times: one bullet cleared through his left arm, one bullet lodged in the right-hand side of his chest, and one in the back of his chest. The doctors did everything they could to save him, but he died anyway. He was only 19 years old!
Given the circumstances at the time, we had no way of finding out exactly where our son had died. But several months after it happened I dreamt about the place where my son was killed. To make sure, I went to look for the place the next morning, and the situation did resemble what I had seen in my dream: a place in Xinhua Park, in front of a dormitory, 100 yards east of the Muxudi bus stop (it doesn't exist anymore; they have built an overpass there). And so I decided that that was the place where my son was killed.
After my son was killed, I did not want to put him in some bleak, desolate spot. So after the cremation I put my son's ashes in my bedroom, so that we could console each other's lonely spirits. Now I can just chat with my son about my depression and my grief, and tell him what is happening around me...
In school my son received good marks both for his work and for his character. He gained the confidence of students and teachers alike. He was one of the best students in his class, and a good cadre. He was our hope and our future. His sudden departure was like a bolt from the blue. Our hearts bled. The family suffered endless misery and pain. It is hard to recover from such a heavy blow. We have been shot through our heart and soul, and these wounds won't heal. For ten years we have fought a bitter struggle searching for justice for our child. We call upon all conscientious people to use the law for the protection of human justice, to reveal history in its true colors, and to punish the killers to the limit of the law, so as to comfort the souls of our murdered loved ones in Heaven!Yin Min