I was browsing through some blogs we have syndicated at Philippines Today and I happened to read Jessica Zafra’s post about Ninoy Aquino’s 25th death anniversary being commemorated today, August 21. I was really surprised to realize that it has indeed been 25 years since then.
Where was I twenty five years ago today? Well, I was still in elementary. I think I was in Grade V then. We had a TV in our house, but we were listening to the radio instead as news of Ninoy’s assassination exploded all over the archipelago. I guess those were the heyday of radio broadcasting – news stories were dished out by radio newscasters faster than their television counterparts. Of course, nowadays we check out the internet instead for the latest news. Anyway, it was a really poignant memory for me, because right after my Daddy heard that Ninoy got killed, he started storming around and cursing Marcos and his government to high heavens. I remember thinking, why is he so fuming mad? As for me? Well, I didn’t even know who Ninoy Aquino was (shame on me), but it sure was saddening for me to know that he got killed just because he returned to the country! I became more interested about the country’s state of affairs afterwards.
September 11, 2001. I woke up to the sound of my radio playing, which was programmed to play at a specified time in the morning each day. It served as my secondary "alarm clock" because sometimes I would sleep right through the ringing of my primary alarm clock, often to disastrous results. I was half-awake when the radio came on. Well, soon the DJ on the radio started giving the news, and it was then that I heard about the two commercial jet planes crashing into the Twin Towers. I was fully awake in an instant. I turned on the TV and sat there agape, almost unbelieving that it really happened.
At the same time, I got kind of worried because Baggy was still in Plymouth, UK, attending a conference and was scheduled to come back after a day or two. I was very relieved when he got back safe and sound. But later he told me how tense the condition was at Heathrow airport.
Big earthquake of 1990 in the Philippines. I was riding a bus in Monumento. I didn’t feel the earthquake right away probably because of the bus’ movements. I remember getting off the bus because of the traffic jam that ensued there, and when I walked I felt the ground shake. I’m not sure if that was the main earthquake, or if it was an aftershock. As soon as the rest of the news came in, I was saddened to learn that among the cities devastated, my dear Baguio City was among those laid to waste. (I went to Baguio City High School, in case you didn’t know. I spent 4 years living in Baguio City. 🙂 )
Anyway, it was just interesting for me to reminisce those specific days. Funny how one could remember some days more than others, no? So, would you me tell where were you when those major events in history happened?
a. at home in albay. an experience that merit a blog entry today.
b. samar on a med mission. we watched the entire thing on cable.
c. on a resto in legaspi city, out on a date with my girlfriend then.
just passing by….
Bill: Thanks for sharing! Btw, I noticed that you were in three very different places on those dates. 🙂
lagalag kasi ako, eh. hehe
Tama. I had just given birth to my bonch when it happened — when the tarmac killing happened. And my bonch is now 25! That meant I was on maternity leave and I was able to catch the events unfolding on TV. I felt strangely numb then … it was days before the outrage came out.
When the big earthquake happened, we were in the office working (a couple of hours before, we were having a blast of a time playing pictionary and the floor almost shook with our jostling). When the real scary shaking began, I was on the phone and I sat there paralyzed for the full minute (or so) that it lasted. My first thought was of my children — where are they? are they safe? And I shouted to God to stop.