My hero

By NIMROD NL QUIÑONES

Today as we celebrate Araw ng Kagitingan (Day of Valor) I remember the man, who was not only the one who influenced me most while I was in my formative years, but he is the hero that I look up to up to today, years after is passing.

I am referring to Cipriano Rosal Quiñones, Sr., my grandfather, a veteran of World War II, a strict disciplinarian, but also a caring father and grandfather.

I spent most of my growing years under the watchful eyes of my grandfather. Since I was the eldest grandson, although the second grandchild as my cousin Mary Ann was born seven months ahead of me, I became the pet of my grandparents.

A family beach outing in the early 1970s in Talisay. I am the baby being held by my father, Nonilon, second son of my grandparents.

My grandmother Paz Frasco Quiñones referred to me as their ‘himutakal’ or the so-called share of the owners of the boar from the brood of the swine.

At a young age I already spent time with my lolo and lola and went to the Bruce Lee movies with them.

When our family moved back to Toledo City when my father got promoted to junior staff at the Foundry of the Atlas Mines, I spent the school breaks with my grandparents in Minglanilla. Then we moved back to Minglanilla when my father got sick and eventually died when I was only seven years old.

With several members of the family at the old house that we rented in Mambaling. I am that boy holding a toy sword being held by my grandfather.

My grandfather loved to talk about the Second World War to anybody who would listen. He’d sing their songs and regale people with how his unit saw action in the battlefields in the northern part of Cebu and even the island of Leyte. I was probably the one he talked to the most among my generation in the family.

One of the biggest regrets I have in life, is my failure to put my grandpa’s war stories on record and write about them.

A wedding photo of my grandparents in the northern town of San Remigio where my grandmother was born. Her father, Bibiano Frasco, was formerly the town’s presidente, which is equivalent to mayor today.

In 2005, I received an email from somebody with the address smilestony@aol.com asking me if I was related to a big guy, who taught them bicycle tricks in Bogo many years ago. I knew he was referring to my grandfather though he recalled the name Ceferino not Cipriano.

When I spent most of my time biking, my grandfather would tell me stories of how he raced his friends from Medellin to Bogo and his bike tricks.

In a second email, the sender gave me a name Misael Mayol Pedrano and he told me that I should write about my grandfather’s war exploits.

I still have the email on my inbox and here it is:

“Yeah, I remember his nickname, he was a kindhearted and large fellow who allowed many of us then to learn some bicycle tricks.

“It seems to me that I am familiar with you some decades ago and perhaps you know me personally.

“I used to teach in the Northern Cebu Colleges and in former Holy Family Academy (later as professor of Spanish in the Gregorio Araneta Foundation University (panghambog panagsa).

“What a very happy coincidence. Your Lolo was a veteran – one who really fought the Japanese. I, too, fought and killed some Japanese in ambushes. I have partly written about my exploits (which resulted in my commission in the field as second lieutenant in1945).

“I am requesting you to put his exploits in writing. We have here in Bogo a Magazine called the BUDYONG (comes out only when makahigayon or if we can solicit enough ads. Opring’s exploits will appear in the BUDYONG with your permission. I am the publisher and editor.

“I believe the two of us will someday be together in the BUDYONG OR PERHAPS later in the revival of the BOGO TIMES of which I was also the publisher and editor. This e-mail is quite long now, but to a writer, I believe it is not.

“We will be talking (writing) some more.

“Sincerely yours.

(They call me MISAK (Meshach in Bogo).

MISAEL M. PEDRANO
Artesia, California”

I found my grandpa’s name in the roster of troops, he was First Sargent of the United States Armed Forces in the Far East.

I still have goosebumps every time I read this email. This was also the last time that he contacted me. A Google search of his name yielded an obituary that listed a Misael Mayol Pedrano who was born on December 19, 1919 and died on February 9, 2007 at the age of 87. He is buried in California.

Aside from his war exploits my grandfather loved sports. He played table tennis and all his sons also played the sport. I did pick up a paddle several times in my life and would say that I am not so bad, but never good enough.

He used to watch me when I practiced long jump in front of our house. There was always something being done on our old house and we had this perennial mound of sand that became my sandpit that allowed me to dream of being Carl Lewis the jumper and on occasion, the sprinter.

Lolo took care of me when I was sick but he often told me how he would report to work even when he was sick most specially during his days at the Atlas Mines where he worked at the open pit.

My grandfather at his work place, the open pit of the old Atlas Mines in Toledo City, Cebu.

He was loving husband, who took care of my grandmother. One of my most vivid memories of my grandfather was him carrying a tank of oxygen to be used by my very sick father, who was already brought home due to his terminal illness.

There are much to write about my grandfather and how his presence made me remember to toe the line, do my job right and find ways to solve problems that I encounter. He taught me how to drive.

I disappointed him when I got out of the Philippine Military Academy not through the two options he gave me – graduation or the United States Coast Guard Academy. I did get his affection back when I worked hard on being a judo athlete and won in tournaments.

Lolo Opring with me and my siblings and cousins. We were all Lolo’s boys.

He stood by me during good and bad times and even took some scolding from my grandmother because of me. My grandfather was a man of action. I miss him a lot and I hope to someday find a way to write about his war exploits.

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