In memory of Antonio R. Pano (Tony) It was fast, it came without a warning. You were gone for good. It was at the start of the declining years of the Marcos dictatorship when I first met Tony, fresh from Ateneo de Manila University. I was also a fresh mass communications graduate dreaming of becoming a reporter for a local broadsheet when we met, not in a smoky newsroom, but in a spanking new editorial room across Kalayaan Hall of the Malacanang Palace. Just beside Freedom Park was a private compound housing the Philippine-United States Business office, the office of the late Benjamin Cocoy Romualdez, the powerful brother of the First Lady Imelda R. Marcos and the long-time Philippine ambassador to the United States. He also controlled the Journal Group, publisher of broadsheet Times Journal, Peoples Journal, Taliba and Womens Journal. Behind the de facto embassy in Manila was a modern newsroom with brand-new typewriters, desks and a dormitory for men and women journalists. Food was never a problem because it had buffet from breakfast, lunch and dinner and it was very lavish as the ambassador was hosting American and Filipino politicians and businessmen -- and, of course, a bunch of journalists holding office there. I reported to Art Cariaga at Peoples Journal and after he asked me to write a news story, he shipped me to Aguado Street, that was the office was known then. I could not remember if I found Tony there or I was hired ahead of Tony by a few days. It was July 1983, a month before Marcos nemesis, former senator Benigno Aquino, was set to go home. Tony was a dreamer. The Jesuit-schooled would-be journalist was apolitical or he never showed it openly. He was a great story teller, typing away with only one hand, recounting success stories of Kilusang Kabuhayan at Kaunlaran (KKK) in Camanava area to help the former first lady, Imelda Marcos, win a seat at the Batasang Pambansa in May 1984. I never met his family bur he kept of mentioning his sister, Vessie, and his family in Pasig. I covered Marikinaa-Pasig-Pateros-Tagig at that time but I never got a chance to drop by his house. But, Tony was a thoughtful son and brother. I never had the chance to know the people in his lives, in his stories. He rode jeepneys to his beat and interviewed the ordinary people, the barangay tanod and the barangay captain, reporting ordinary lives on how the KKK changed them. He would come back in the early evening to tell stories of a housewife who got a 500 peso loan from KKK and was earning a decent 50 to 100 a day selling cooked food or starting a backyard piggery. Those were the stuff we were doing back then until the campaign period for the Batasan elections in 1984 when we were instantly turned into political reporters and assigned to follow late Dindo Fernando and Danny Floro who were then running for seats in the Pasig-Marikine district. We spent endless nights as Aguado Street as presidential guards ringed the compound while Metro Manila was burning and people were ransacking the Kadiwa stores in the aftermath of Ninoys assassination at the tarmac of the Manila International Airport on August 21, 1983. We never got to see Ninoy at Santo Domingo Church and the long funeral march to Manila Memorial Park because we were warned the First Ladys eyes and ears can see us if we go there. We were probably the youngest then, Tony was 22, Gene Orejana, Patricia Adversario and I were about 21 then. the late Raul Beltran, Cesar Carpio, Fred Gabot at Efren Danao were our seniors. Roger Carpio and the late Johnny Villena were our photographers. Yvonne Chua and Amy Pamintuan did not stay a day longer in the bureau but Amor Lopez, Alden Alag, Melissa Reyes were also part of the bureau. Tony and I stayed up to the very end when Peoples Journal under Gus Villanueva made us police reporters after May 1984. In December 1985 was the last time I worked with Tony because I joined the Manila Times under Chino Roces, Amando Doronila and Vergel Santos. I learned Tony joined Philippine Star and we still bump into each other but Tony has made a name in the newspaper industry. He was well loved by beat reporters and heard stories of his kindness and generosity even from province-based Philippine Star reporter, like John Unson. Tony was married to his journalism profession. He loved writing, staying late into the night, puffing stick after stick of cigarettes in between a sip of red wine. I could only imagine the pain Tony endured, skipping lunch and dinner to edit, write and close the pages of the Philippine Star. The ending came suddenly, without a warning. It was swift, Good bye my dear friend. Rest now, Tony, your work is done
Posted on: Sun, 07 Sep 2014 15:21:04 +0000
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