Remembrance of Times Past with Tony Tagamolila

There he is, second from right, peering shyly over Doy Vea’s shoulder, exactly as I remember him. The Tony Tagamolila (“Tony Taga”) of my teen-hood. Clean cut Pre-Military Training (PMT), quiet, calm, self-assured. And super talino (intelligent). I’m the kayumanggi (brown-skinned) fellow lurking in the shadows, with the dragonfly specs. My mother, Alita, is grinning with pride as she greets us on the gangplank of the Doña Florentina.

This was Pier 2 of the North Harbor in Manila, in March, 1966. We had just arrived from Bacolod, where our high school newspaper, The UP Highlights, was crowned the nation’s best. We were 17, HS seniors, and the world was our oyster. The next month, Doy would graduate salutatorian, Tony clinched first honor, and I was a distant 40th   (in our A section class of 40 students).

Pier 2, North Harbor, Manila, March 1966 (left to right) author, Doy Vea, Tony Tagamolila

Six decades have passed since the photo was taken, and the memories are beginning to fade (like the photo). Today, Doy is a highly respected businessman. I am eight years into a comfortable retirement, after 40 years of “passing gas” (I used to put people to sleep, and wake them up, which was the more difficult and rewarding part of the job).

Doy Vea and me

My mom is gone now. And so is Tony T.

He was killed by the Philippine military in the hills of Aklan in 1974. They claim he was a “rebel,” a leader of the New People’s Army. Growing up with the guy, and knowing him as I did, I do not doubt these allegations.

I was in graduate school when I learned of his demise. I never saw him in those two years he was “underground.”

In high school, we did the usual high school things that teenagers do. We climbed the 200-plus circular steps to the wings of the angels in the Quezon Memorial Circle and tossed paper airplanes, and cigarette butts at our nervous buddies on the ground.

Yes, we climbed to the top of the Monument (and smoked cigarettes).

We knew all the Beatles song lyrics. We had “crushes.” We rode the singko sentimo (five centavo) Ikot jeeps, lunched at the Multi. On occasion, we noticed our math teacher Miz Villabos sneaking off for a puff in the girls CR (and never reported her).

We spent a weekend in a seminary in Baguio with Father Ben Villote, wondering if the clergy was in our future. On Saturday mornings, we put on khakis and marched for PMT. We even found time to study.

In freshman year of college, I wrote a treacly, altruistic, albeit, well-meaning essay on “Why I want to be a Physician.” Actually, my dream was to be a correspondent, but my Lolo wanted me to follow in his footsteps and promised to haunt me should I stray. The story won First Place.

Runner up was a Law student named Miriam Defensor. She had just been named editor-in-chief of the Philippine Collegian (the campus paper) and needed a sports editor. Thus began my (short-lived) detour to journalism.

Tony, Doy and I would also join the Alpha Sigma Fraternity, a brotherhood dedicated to Serving the Masses.

Alpha Sigma Fraternity initiation, April 1967:  Me (extreme left), Tony (third from left), Gerry Barican (fourth from left; he did not complete).

The late ‘60s were a critical time for the university and the country. The Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos Duocracy was running amuck. The Collegian was at the forefront of the reporting and opinionating. Miriam was followed by my high school buddy Joey Arcellana, then a succession of likeminded fraternity brothers, with Tony becoming editor in 1970. I was promoted to Managing Editor and basically ran the entire operation. The publication came out every Wednesday, but we worked every day, gathering at the Liwayway Printing Press on Tuesday nights for final proofs.

The Press was located in the University Belt area of the metro, and also printed the campus newspapers of nearby schools. So we got to meet with fellow activists and writers, which led to the revival of the College Editors Guild (CEG), which had been inactive for a while.  (https://prezi.com/lzjc9jborswg/college-editors-guild-of-the-philippines/)   There is plenty of documentation, i.e., books, videos about those heady days. Check out the archives at the Main Library of the University for back issues of our Collegian- careful, the paper is yellowing and turning crumbly! Google “The Diliman Commune,” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uueaha2II0Q) and  the YouTube slideshow of Lauren Pimentel (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZyj_P6b3VU)  on Crispin and Antonio Tagamolila.

At our High School Class’ 25th year homecoming reunion, we started the Antonio Tagamolila Scholarship Fund to commemorate his legacy and ultimate sacrifice. Representing the family was Crispin, Tony’s eldest son (and namesake of his Kuya, who was also martyred). Cris is the spitting image of his dad, and I have to admit, for a few moments during the ceremony, yours truly went verklempt.


Senen “Sonny Siasoks” Siasoco, M.D. chronicled the Philippines’ First Quarter Storm in the 1960s as a reporter/editor of the Philippine Collegian, the student organ of the University of the Philippines. He continued his education at the best medical center on Aurora Boulevard, QC, and honed his craft in the icy frozen tundra of the North. Nowadays, you may occasionally find him circling the neighborhood on his ebike, or grappling with the daily Wordle.


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