E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
A man for all
Sunday, 12 19, 2004
Yesterday, with a numb hand, I faced my computer, hoping that the grief that filled my heart could summon enough anguish to describe my defiant refusal to mourn the death of Fernando Poe Jr.. But enough already - I have read and heard enough of what the grieving multitude who trekked to the Santo Domingo Church have said about how they felt on the death of this extraordinary man. A single utterance from me at mourning would not make a difference.
So, today I celebrate the life of Fernando Poe, Jr..
Today I rejoice at the enriched humanity that came to him, unsought but well deserved, when he found good cause, whether as Daniel Barrion in the movies or Fernando Poe Jr. in real life, in which he could act as a man for other men. The simple folk who were too battered in spirit found themselves a leader when they put their trust in Daniel Barrion; the millions who put their trust on Fernando Poe Jr. in the last elections were desperate for a leader, a leader upon whom they could bestow the last vestiges of their hope that arose at Edsa, but rendered unrequited by that woman who loves Jose Pidal and his ilk more than the nation.
Today I give praise over humility of the man who, in the face of fame and fortune, has given us a code to live by: Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can. Like the rest of us, from the hour he came forth to this world a natural-born Filipino citizen 65 years ago, he began to die, but between that birth and his death last Tuesday, there was the life that he lived as a man for other men. In countless unheralded, gratuitous gestures he made life a little bit happier and a lot more tolerable for so many people: the nameless hangers-on who stayed behind the glare of his luminance, the hard-up individuals to whom the fates and society had been unkind, the sick who would have gone on to die had not their idol singled them out for his beneficence. Just before his death, his hand was reaching out to the victims of a calamity wrought by the insatiable greed of man.
Today I salute Fernando Poe Jr. who, despite - or perhaps because of - the characters he had portrayed onscreen, had not been nobody else but himself when he was cast in a political milieu that night and day tried its self-righteous best to transform him to everybody else. Measured against the benchmark qualifications that others brandished before the electorate, he offered his persona to the nation just the way he was, and what he could do. It was a hard battle, the hardest perhaps in his whole life, that he fought; he never stopped fighting even after he was robbed of victory by the Congress of the Philippines; and only his death has stopped him from waging that lonely battle in the Presidential Electoral Tribunal.
Today I shed no tears for the man who has refused to let his critics wear him down. They do not count, these self-proclaimed arbiters of sense and sensibility who pointed out how this valiant man stumbled and where this man for other men could have done better in the stories of bravery that he filmed, in the political decisions that he made. The praise belongs to Fernando Poe Jr. alone - who was right there in the arena, whose face was sullied by the grime of intrigue, whose birthright they tried to steal, whose victory last May they actually robbed him of. Fernando Poe Jr., who when he erred and came up short, as men must, came striving valiantly because he knew there would be no glory without error and shortcoming; who knew the great passion and devotion of a multitude that placed their hopes on him.
Today I exult at the sight of that multitude who with mournful tread file past his bier to thank him for making them believe that something inside of them could yet be disdainful of the hollow gestures and circumstances of entrenched power. This is the multitude who grieved over the death of another man who would have been president. Without minimizing the courage with which Ninoy Aquino had died, this multitude will not forget the courage with which Fernando Poe Jr. had lived. It had to take this “mere actor” to teach the nation’s teeming masses that hope for a better future is a spirit that will not stay imprisoned under the inert weight of governmental indifference and neglect. That hope lives on; it will not only endure: it will prevail when, at last, the nation looks into its deepest nature and discovers that, as individuals, they could meet the challenge of courage if they heed that small voice that comes in the dark night of the soul. The life that Fernando Poe Jr. lived as a man for other men teaches us, offers us hope, and provides us inspiration that we, too, could make our dreary lives sublime and, in dying, leave behind us footprints in the sands of time.
Today I thank Fernando Poe, Jr. for the time I spent in his living presence, for I got acquainted with a hero who continues to give us hope. I refuse to mourn his death, knowing that the crusade that he started will live on through the regal and gracious woman he took in sickness and in health, who stayed with him for better or for worse, that the cold, unforgiving hand of Death would not even bring them apart.
In dying, Fernando Poe Jr. exited from the scenes that all of us, a frustrated but hopeful nation, kept replaying in the movies in our minds - and rode into the pages of living history.
Today I salute Fernando Poe Jr. who, despite - or perhaps because of - the characters he had portrayed onscreen, had not been nobody else but himself when he was cast in a political milieu that night and day tried its self-righteous best to transform him to everybody else. Measured against the benchmark qualifications that others brandished before the electorate, he offered his persona to the nation just the way he was, and what he could do. It was a hard battle, the hardest perhaps in his whole life, that he fought; he never stopped fighting even after he was robbed of victory by the Congress of the Philippines; and only his death has stopped him from waging that lonely battle in the Presidential Electoral Tribunal.
Today I shed no tears for the man who has refused to let his critics wear him down. They do not count, these self-proclaimed arbiters of sense and sensibility who pointed out how this valiant man stumbled and where this man for other men could have done better in the stories of bravery that he filmed, in the political decisions that he made. The praise belongs to Fernando Poe Jr. alone - who was right there in the arena, whose face was sullied by the grime of intrigue, whose birthright they tried to steal, whose victory last May they actually robbed him of. Fernando Poe Jr., who when he erred and came up short, as men must, came striving valiantly because he knew there would be no glory without error and shortcoming; who knew the great passion and devotion of a multitude that placed their hopes on him.
Today I exult at the sight of that multitude who with mournful tread file past his bier to thank him for making them believe that something inside of them could yet be disdainful of the hollow gestures and circumstances of entrenched power. This is the multitude who grieved over the death of another man who would have been president. Without minimizing the courage with which Ninoy Aquino had died, this multitude will not forget the courage with which Fernando Poe Jr. had lived. It had to take this “mere actor” to teach the nation’s teeming masses that hope for a better future is a spirit that will not stay imprisoned under the inert weight of governmental indifference and neglect. That hope lives on; it will not only endure: it will prevail when, at last, the nation looks into its deepest nature and discovers that, as individuals, they could meet the challenge of courage if they heed that small voice that comes in the dark night of the soul. The life that Fernando Poe Jr. lived as a man for other men teaches us, offers us hope, and provides us inspiration that we, too, could make our dreary lives sublime and, in dying, leave behind us footprints in the sands of time.
Today I thank Fernando Poe, Jr. for the time I spent in his living presence, for I got acquainted with a hero who continues to give us hope. I refuse to mourn his death, knowing that the crusade that he started will live on through the regal and gracious woman he took in sickness and in health, who stayed with him for better or for worse, that the cold, unforgiving hand of Death would not even bring them apart.
In dying, Fernando Poe Jr. exited from the scenes that all of us, a frustrated but hopeful nation, kept replaying in the movies in our minds - and rode into the pages of living history.
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