My father’s EDSA tale

For sure, if my father lived up to this day, he would be telling me how he and some of his friends stormed Malacañang 30 years ago after Ferdinand Marcos reportedly left the Palace. Anti-Marcos groups ransacked the place, valuables were also reportedly looted.


He’s the chubby dark dude with glasses

He hoped to bring home something valuable. He went home to my grandma with a leaf.

We had interesting dinners every People Power anniversary. My Ilocana mother is for Marcos and my father was proud to have been present at People Power. “Progress” vs “freedom,” “prosperity against “democracy,” among many other things that I choose to leave out. (There are too many posts on that already anyway.)

Papa would always tell us how he lined up to see Ninoy’s bloodied remains, attended the senator’s funeral, and how next day’s papers reportedly ignored the mobilization. He would tell us that everyone was afraid. Everyone thought Marcos’ regime will never end.

My father was at EDSA 30 years ago, scared for his life, but he felt that he had to be outside on the streets. Perhaps, in a parallel universe, he’s now doing his “Laban” chant against my mom’s “Marcos pa rin.”