Even The Grass Bleeds
Page 5
It was 4:05 in the afternoon of July 16, 1990, Monday when Daniel decided to visit Tony. Tony was absent in their Bible Study last Saturday, and Daniel thought it may be good to pay him a visit. After all, it was he who invited Tony to the Bible Study-Fellowship which was being held every Saturday. He ought to show his concern for the latter.
Although Tony had shown interest in the Bible Study sessions, Daniel knew that he had not yet made the decision of inviting Jesus Christ into his heart.
. . .
Brother Ben Cervantes was in a Pantranco bus to Manila that Monday afternoon.
He would attend a seminar on missions sponsored by the Jesus is Lord Christian Fellowship the following day in Philamlife, Quezon City. The seminar would last for three days – Tuesday to Thursday.
After the seminar, he would visit his uncle, Colonel Tirso Martinez, Philippine Air Force (PAF), at Villamor Air Base.
Then, he would go back to Baguio City on Friday afternoon, July 20, for the Saturday Bible Study Fellowship.
. . .
Paciencia Pascual, the businesswoman who was a member of Brother Ben’s Bible Study group, was having a discussion with Ernesto Santos in the latter’s flower shop at the Baguio public market. They were talking about the possibility of putting up a Christian monthly digest for Baguio residents. “This has been my vision for the past two years, at matagal ko nang ipinapanalangin ‘to,” she told Ernesto.
(“This has been my vision for the past two years, and I have been praying about it for a long time.”)
“Kung talagang will ng Lord, ituloy mo,” Ernesto said.
(“If it’s the Lord’s will, then go for it.”)
“Tutulungan mo ba ako?” she asked him.
(“Are you willing to help me?”)
“Paano?” Ernesto asked.
(“How?”)
“Sa circulation. Malaki ang maitutulong mo sa distribution ng publication,” she answered.
(“With the digest’s circulation. You can help a great deal in the distribution of the publication,”)
“Eh, wala akong experience sa pagtitinda ng mga magazines o digests. Bulaklak ang mga itinitinda ko,” Ernesto said.
(“But I don’t have any experience in selling magazines or digests. I only sell flowers,”)
“Pareho na rin ‘yon. Marketing din. Kapag willing ka, magagamit ka ng Panginoon,” she said.
(“It’s should be similar. It’s still marketing. If you are willing, the Lord can use you.”)
. . .
Grace Guillermo was still in Dagupan City that Monday afternoon. Dagupan was roughly 50 kilometers South West of Baguio.
She decided to go home last Saturday afternoon to get money from her parents for buying the books she needed in school. She also needs her allowance.
Her father, Mr. Franco Guillermo, had a bicycle shop along Torres Bugallon in Dagupan. He wanted Grace to study in the city so she could help him in the store.
But Grace wanted to study in Baguio so she could concentrate on her lessons. At the same time, she yearned for an environment like Baguio’s: cool, relatively clean, not so polluted, and beautiful. It was her mother who supported her desire to attain an education there.
Since she only had two classes on Monday, she decided to go back to Baguio at dawn on Tuesday. If she left Dagupan at 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday, she would be in Baguio before 7:30 a.m.
. . .
Arturo Bigornia, Emilio Lopez and Florentino Africa, all enrolled at the Saint Louis University, had decided to go to Burnham Park for a stroll following their afternoon classes.
“Mag-boating tayo!” Arturo told his two companions.
(“Let’s go boating.”)
“Oo nga, maganda siguro mag-boating ngayon,” Emilio said, supporting the recommendation.
(“Yeah! Now’s a good time to go boating.”)
“Wag na. Maglakad-lakad na lang tayo. Tingnan n’yo ang langit. Madilim. Baka mamaya, biglang umulan,” Florentino countered.
(“No. Let’s just take a stroll. Look at the sky. There are dark clouds. If might rain later on,”)
He was right.
About ten minutes later, the rain began. There was a heavy downpour. The three were trapped inside a restaurant in the park.
The torrential shower was reduced to a drizzle at about 4:20 p.m.
“Dito muna tayo. Umaambon pa, eh,” Arturo said.
(“Let’s stay here for a while. It’s still drizzling.”)
“Hindi ba nakakahiya. Kanina pa tayo rito,” Florentino said.
(“Aren’t we overextending our stay? We’ve been here for a long time.”)
“Hindi naman siguro. Umuulan, eh,” Arturo stated.
(“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s raining.”)
“Ang mabuti pa, magkape na lang tayo para walang masabi ang mga waitresses,” Emilio said.
(“Let’s just order coffee so that the waitresses won’t think we’re being rude.”)
“O, sige,” Arturo replied.
(“Okay.”)
The three ordered coffee and sandwiches for snacks while waiting for the drizzle to completely stop.
. . .
Mario Vicente, a second year U.P. Baguio student, another member of the Bible Study Fellowship, was in Cabanatuan City that Monday, a location roughly 110 kilometers South East of Baguio.
Like Grace Guillermo, who was in Dagupan City that Monday afternoon, Mario was also unable to go back to Baguio.
He went home to Cabanatuan City on July 14, Saturday, to get his allowance.
Unfortunately, he had a fever the following day. The doctor who treated him advised him to rest for two to three days before going back to Baguio.
. . .
Wilfredo Agnir was having a cup of brewed coffee in a café just below the Baguio Cathedral that Monday afternoon.
He was thinking of his exam in a math subject two hours ago when a classmate at the Baguio Colleges Foundation approached him.
“Willie! Nandito ka pala.”
(“Willie! So you’re here.”)
He turned to the person who just spoke to him. It was Imelda Brillantes, a friend.
“Kanina ka pa ba rito?” Imelda asked.
(“Have you been here a while?”)
“Hindi naman… Halika, join me,” Willie said.
(“Not really… Why don’t you join me?”)
“O, sige,” Imelda replied. “Pa-bantay lang nitong books ko, ha, at mag-oorder lang ako,” Imelda answered.
(“Okay.” “Can you watch my books? I’ll just order,”)
“Okay! Sige, akong bahala sa things mo,” Willie assured her.
(“Okay! Don’t worry about your things.”)
. . .
At about 4:30 p.m., Daniel was at the lobby of the Hyatt Terraces Hotel.
He walked to the information booth, and asked whether Mr. Antonio de Guzman was in the hotel.
“Just a moment, sir. “I’ll check whether he’s around,” the lady receptionist replied. She paged for Tony. He was in the hotel’s mini gym.
The receptionist gave Daniel instructions on how to get there.
“Thank you. I appreciate your help,” he said.
“Don’t mention it,” the lady receptionist replied.
It did not take long for Daniel to reach the mini gym. Tony was waiting for him there.
“Hello, Daniel! Nice to see you!” Tony greeted him.
Daniel smiled back, and warmly shook his hand.
“What brings you here?” Tony asked.
“Just visiting,” he shot back.
“I’m currently assigned in this area every afternoon,” Tony said. “The management tasked me with supervising the gym.”
“Good! Now I can come and exercise here,” Daniel said.
“Sure, you’re welcome to pay me a visit,” Tony said. “By the way, how’s the Bible Study group doing?”
“Fine! Fine! We have missed you! Join us every Saturday.”
“I’ll try to make…”
Tony would not finish the statement. The building began to tremble.
“Earthquake!” Tony shouted.
“Takbo tayo sa labas, Tony!” Daniel exclaimed.
(“Let’s run outside, Tony!”)
“Dito na lang! Sa mesa! Sa ilalim ng mesa!” Tony was nervous.
(“Over here instead! The table! Get under the table!”)
They took cover under a nearby table. It was then when the portion of the Hyatt Terraces Hotel, where the gym was located, suddenly crumbled.
There was a nearly simultaneous power outage.
Then, screams and wailings were heard in the darkness.
. . .
The driver of the Manila-bound Pantranco bus where Brother Ben Cervantes was in, felt something was wrong. The bus was cruising the MacArthur Highway stretch between Paniqui and Gerona, Tarlac, roughly 85 kilometers South of Baguio City.
“Bakit kaya magalaw?” he asked himself.
(“Why is it shaky?”)
Afraid that his bus might hit a passing car, he swerved it to the roadside and brought the bus to a halt.
Brother Cervantes wondered why the driver stopped the bus.
A woman at the rear seat of the bus shouted: “Lindol! May lindol!”
(“Earthquake! There’s an earthquake!”)
“Oo nga! Gumagalaw ang mga poste ng kuryente!” exclaimed the man beside her.
(“You’re right! The electric posts are moving!”)
“Nagka-crack ang highway! Bumubuka ang lupa!” another lady was hysterical. “Diyos ko! Diyos ko! Tulungan mo po kami! Iligtas mo po kami!”
(“The highway is cracking! The earth is opening up!” “My God! My God! Help us! Save us!”)
Brother Cervantes bowed his head and prayed for his safety, for that of the rest of the passengers, and for that of his family in Baguio City.
His wife Arlene, and their two-year old daughter Ruth, were left behind in Baguio.
. . .
Paciencia Pascual and Ernesto Santos were eating pizza in the latter’s shop when the earthquake occurred.
Pandemonium broke out in the market. People were running ang screaming, all terrified by the tremors.
“Ang lakas!” Paciencia told Ernesto.
(“This is strong earthquake!”)
The first tremor stopped.
There were a few seconds of stillness.
Then the second tremor, stronger this time, began.
“Diyos ko! Diyos ko! Maawa ka po sa amin! Tulungan po n’yo kami! Iligtas po n’yo kami!” a woman was on her knees, crying towards heaven.
(“My God! My God! Have mercy on us! Help us! Save us!”)
“Bumagsak ang Baguio Park Hotel! Bumagsak ang Baguio Park Hotel!” screamed a terrified man.
(“Baguio Park Hotel collapsed! Baguio Park Hotel collapsed!”)
Paciencia urged Ernesto to run with her to the street. “Sa labas tayo, Ernie! Dali!” she shouted.
(“Let’s move outside, Ernie! Quickly!”)
They quickly ran out of the public market building, together with other terrified vendors.
The road was filled with people who came out from the buildings nearby.
“Diyos ko! Diyos ko! Wag mo pong gunawin ang mundo!” an old woman behind Paciencia and Ernesto said, crying.
(“My God! My God! Please do not destroy the world!”)
“Ernie, manalangin tayo,” urged Paciencia. She led him in praying the Lord’s prayer.
(“Ernie, let’s pray.”)
. . .
In Dagupan City, Grace was talking to a buyer in their bicycle shop when her father screamed: “Lindol! Lindol!”
(“Earthquake! Earthquake!”)
He shouted for Grace to run to the road.
The buyer followed them, as horrified as they were.
“Wala na! Tumigil na!” Mr. Guillermo said.
(“It has stopped!”)
Then, the second tremor began.
“Daddy, hayan na naman po!” Grace exclaimed.
(“Daddy, there it goes again!”)
“Bumubuka ang lupa!” the buyer shouted, aghast.
(“The earth is opening up!”)
A violent explosion terrified thousands who flocked to the road.
“It’s the end of the world! It’s the end of the world! Lord, forgive us! Lord, forgive us!” a lady was crying.
“This is God’s judgement! This is God’s judgement!” a man kept saying.
. . .
Arturo Bigornia, Emilio Lopez and Florentino Africa had just finished their snack in the restaurant at Burnham Park when the earthquake struck.
“Lindol! Lindol!” a waitress screamed.
(“Earthquake! Earthquake!”)
The three quickly ran out of the restaurant to an open area.
Fear engulfed them when they saw the Baguio Park Hotel reduced to ruins.
“Let’s kneel and pray!” Arturo urged the other two.
As the three knelt and prayed, they could hear horrifying screams from the people trapped in the rubbles of the Baguio Park Hotel.
“Lord, forgive us! Lord, forgive us!” Arturo exclaimed in prayer.
“Lord, save our country! Please, save our country!” Florentino appealed.
Emilio prayed silently. He thought it might be the end of the world.
. . .
Mario Vicente, then in Cabanatuan City, still nursing a fever, was shocked when the cabinet in his room crashed.
As their house shook, he realized it was an earthquake.
His mother, then in the kitchen, rushed to his room when she heard the noise created by the fallen cabinet.
“Anak ko!” she shouted, rushing to him, embracing her son.
(“My son!”)
“Let’s pray, Ma!” Mario told his mother who was crying.
They had just begun praying when they heard a man shouting that the Christian College of the Philippines1 building collapsed.