How it all began for Gloria

Glorious will always be her film career.

Spanning five decades (and still counting), it has transcended changing viewers‘ taste and varying trends in the movies.

But Gloria Romero is not one to bask in past glory.

Regarded like a living treasure by film industry members today, she still recoils a bit every time people refer to her as a movie queen.

However, there is no denying that she is a legend in show business and, this year, she is the recipient of the Natatanging Gawad Urian of the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino. (To be produced by APT Enterprises, the 27th Gawad Urian will be held on June 19 at the AFP Theater and will be telecast via RPN 9 at 9 p.m.)

Perennially in the most beautiful and best-dressed list, Gloria Romero is of mixed parentage.

Her father was Pedro Galla, a man born to a landed family in the small town of Mabini in Pangasinan.

Along with his brother Emilio, he left for the United States in the early 1930s supposedly to study. But instead of a diploma, he brought home a wife, Mary Borrego Miller.

Of Spanish-American descent, Mary’s life actually had enough dramatic moments that could rival some of the weepy scenes in the tearjerkers later churned out by daughter Gloria for Sampaguita.

The product of a broken home, Mary and her three siblings chose to stay with their mother, who tragically enough – orphaned them early in life at the age of 15, she was a young bride to Pedro whom she always called Pete. Initially, they settled in Denver, Colorado where their three kids were born: Louise, Gloria (born Dec. 16, 1934) and Tito, who would also grow up to be an actor in the Sampaguita Pictures compound. (He died of cancer in 1979.)

In 1937, Pedro decided to bring his family to the Philippines. Upon docking in Manila, Mary marveled at the beauty of Manila, then one of the finest cities in the Orient. To her disappointment, Manila was not their final destination.

After touring the city for a few days, they packed their belongings once more, boarded a hired truck and traveled through dirt roads until they reached Pete’s sleepy Pangasinan hometown of Mabini. This was when Mary began to cry. The cries turned to wails when she saw hogs feeding under the house, which was going to be home for her and the kids.

To please his young wife, Pedro would send her to Baguio for the weekend. But those mountain resort trips were not enough to placate Mary, who obviously yearned for an exciting city life.

She begged Pete to bring the family back to the United States. Next year, he promised her. After that he bargained for another year and yet another – until the Second World War reached the Philippines.

To their relief, Mabini was so beyond reach, it took the Japanese half a year to set up base there – and when they did, Pedro had to evacuate his family to the mountains bordering Pangasinan and Zambales. His main concern was his American wife, who could get arrested and locked up in jail by the enemies. During their escape to the mountains, Pedro had his wife lie down inside a pushcart covered with hay.

Although there were no Japanese in the mountains, there was malaria and other diseases that could harm the children. From time to time – when they were sure there were no Japanese in Mabini – they would go to town to seek comfort in their home. It was around this period when another baby, Gilbert, now a doctor based in the East Coast, was born to the family.

One day in 1943, however, what Pedro Galla dreaded most finally happened. As the family was preparing for dinner, they heard strange noises outside their home. When they looked out the window, they saw a troop of Japanese soldiers – about 30 of them – surrounding the house. "Nakaturo ang mga bayoneta nila sa amin," recalls Gloria, who still gets teary-eyed recounting this story several decades later.

It was Mary they were after. They made her come down from the house and with the sharp blades of the bayonets of a whole platoon of Japanese soldiers pointed at her, she was led away as the pealing of the church bells heralding the Angelus filled the cold and biting air "Oh, how we cried," remembers Gloria as they watched helplessly their mother being taken away by the Japanese. Even her father was unable to do anything because he himself was arrested later, but was eventually released.

To her credit, Mary kept her composure during the long and arduous interrogation before the Japanese officials. And she refused to speak to them in English, preferring to talk in the Castilian tongue as part of her act in order to convince the officers that she was Spanish and was therefore not an enemy – Spain being an ally of the Axis Party to which side Japan belonged during World War II.

She may have survived that ordeal in the hands of the Japanese officers, but was unable to escape the other problems brought about by war. One was lack of medical attention during the dark days of the Japanese Occupation.

Although Mary was basically healthy, she had an accident shortly after giving birth to baby Gilbert. And this was all because of the blackout imposed on the citizenry by the Japanese Imperial Army. As required by the Japanese, not even a tiny candle could be lit late at night.

One evening, Mary was trying to figure her way through the dark-filled corridors of their home when she took a wrong turn and fell down the stairs. All she complained about from that fall was a bleeding nose. It was only after a couple of years when it was discovered that she had broken three ribs in that accident. But even then, nothing much could be done because it was still wartime and there was no medical help around – except for folk medicine. Eventually, she started coughing and went through such excruciating pain.

In January 1945, Mary – although feeling very weak – looked out the window and saw airplanes that she unmistakably identified as American. Then word got around town that the Americans had reached the Lingayen Gulf and that relief goods were being distributed several towns away. Hearing this, Gloria and her sister ran barefoot and crossed several streams and rivers in the hope of getting some food and hopefully medicine for their mother. They brought home apples and chocolates instead but this already made their mother very happy. Mary ate a piece of chocolate, had a small bite of lunch and died surrounded by family. This was on Jan. 17, 1945. Mary was 28.

(To be continued)