Fred Marquez – He was a bright boy in journalism – responsible for the success of Mod Magazine and some of the publications in the Journal Group of Companies. Fred was my boss for two years and a half. He took me in and made me managing editor of a weekly television magazine.
Fred was not only my editor. He was also a friend. Although we had occasional differences, we basically worked well together because we were both willing to work long hours. We’d often start work at 2 p.m. (the start of presstime in most publications) and finish at 2 a.m. without complaining. (The others – staff writers, art director and paste-up artists could not keep up with us and were dismissed earlier.)
Amazingly, there were times when we wouldn’t go home yet after work. Never mind if it was two o’clock in the morning. Sometimes, we’d pass by a Chinese eatery in Mabini for noodles and chitchat. (The workload in the office was often heavy and we hardly had time to talk while putting the magazine to bed.)
When the magazine folded up, he was given a new assignment by the company, while I was given my walking papers. But we agreed we’d get together from time to time to catch up on each other. It never happened. He was always working. Sometimes, I’d call up his house at noontime and he’d still be sleeping after staying in the office till morning. Most of the time, it was his wife Dolly and I who would end up chatting on the phone. Eventually, I also became very busy myself.
The only time Fred slowed down was when he got sick. I was studying in the US when this happened. When I returned home, he was already quite ill and instead of a happy reunion wherein we could talk about old times, he was there in the hospital bed feeling weak. In the year 2000, he passed away and now, I regret the fact that we never had the chance to get together and talk about old times.
Maria Teresa Carlson – About a year ago – on Nov. 23, 2001 – I was in Camp Crame working on Nida Blanca’s murder case when I was told that the former Miss Young Philippines-turned-comedienne Maria Teresa Carlson had leapt to her death from the 21st floor of Platinum 2000 in Annapolis, Greenhills. Hearing that, I passed on the Nida Blanca story to another unit and rushed to Platinum, where I saw several TV crews gathered outside begging to be let in. I remember devising several plans along with Kara David and Lei Alviz of GMA-7 on how we could get inside the building. One plan was to pretend we were going to use the spa in Platinum, which was open to outsiders, but the guards wouldn’t buy that.
When the situation seemed hopeless, I decided to proceed with the crew to Loyola Guadalupe where Carlson’s remains were brought hours earlier. We got there a little too late. The remains had been brought to the airport to be airlifted to Laoag City.
In my desperation, I decided to seek out the mortician and from her I was able to piece the story together – although in a rather gory fashion. I also talked to the person who gathered the remains at the Platinum building – and her story was even gorier.
From Loyola, the crew and I proceeded to the different precincts in San Juan to look for the maids who used to keep Carlson company in her Platinum home, while I requested another unit to get the autopsy report from Camp Crame. In the evening, I sought out Carlson’s good friend Carmi Martin in the middle of a prayer meeting in Makati to get a few words from her.
At the end of the day, we were quite satisfied with our work and were very pleased when the show yielded high ratings for that episode. The following week, we even went to Laoag City to cover her funeral.
In the days that followed, I realized I had immersed myself so much in the story of the death of Maria Teresa Carlson that for several weeks, I couldn’t shake her off my mind – especially before going to sleep at night. No, these were not ghostly manifestations. Maybe it was my conscience bothering me – I don’t know. I wasn’t sure.
Eventually, I resorted to prayers and prayed for the repose of her soul. Soon enough, images of her stopped clouding my mind. But I still continue to pray for her and for other departed souls, who – even in death – continues to make a dent in my mortal life.