"Sure, I’ll come one of these days, Alfred," I said but life got too busy and I kept postponing every time someone would call to ask me that same question: Come with me to Corregidor? Finally Alfred Xeres-Burgos passed away and I was saddened by the memory of his invitation and my failure to take it.
One day I was talking to Totoy Avellana, my former boss and one of my best friends, at his office. "You know, Alfred invited me to come see Corregidor. I never managed to and then he died. I feel badly about that," I said.
"Well, come on, let’s get a group of the old boys together and let’s all go. I’d like to hear what everyone has to say," Totoy said. "It should be fun." So we were supposed to call everyone up and try to organize a trip to Corregidor together but it never got off the ground. One day, Totoy too died. That was more than two years ago. I still have not returned to Corregidor. I visited it once when I was in my ’20s and saw only the ruins. There was something about it that sort of echoed within you, something hushed, bereaved, solemn, sad. It hit me then and has not left me since. Now here was Rose asking me to take the trip with her.
Once again, I could not go. Some personal emergency had to be reckoned with and it coincided with the day she had assigned for the trip so we got together afterwards. "What did you see?" I asked her, full of eagerness.
"Wonderful gardens. A light and sound show. I’d like to work on this project," she said, "will you help me?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure but I don’t know what to do. I know Corregidor is a war memorial. I lost my grandfather, father, uncle during that war. It has a strong sense of history for me but I don’t know about other people. What would they see? What do men see when they go to a war memorial? What can we tell them that will make them want to come?"
"You know what?" Rose said, her eyes twinkling, "We need to find two men who will work on this project with us. They have to be between the ages of 60 to 75. They must be relatively free to travel with us to Corregidor and give us their inputs. Did they like it? What would they want to see?"
"Sounds reasonable to me," I said. "Do you know who?"
"No," she said, "but I thought you might use your column to advertise and find them for us."
"What a great idea!" I exclaimed. "That way I can try to find out the response to my column. Maybe I will advertise for a husband one day and find The Right One."
So, here it is. Rose and I need two reference men who are between the ages of 65 to 75. World War II ended in February 1945. If you are 60, you must have been born on that year. If you are 75, you were 15. Therefore, your father must have been a soldier, a guerilla, must have played an active part in that war. He must have told you stories and you must have been very interested. We need you to share those stories, that love of the Philippines, the country he fought for during that war.
If you are one of these men, e-mail me a paragraph that describes why you might want us to choose you. One paragraph, right? Then another paragraph that describes you, what you want us to know about you. Send it over to lilypad@skyinet.net. Then you will hear from us. If you are impatient and hotheaded, please don’t send in an application. We are looking for cool dudes. If you want to work for money, sorry we can’t offer you any immediately. We are at the pre-developmental stage. We need and value your opinions. Sure, we will take care of transportation and food, but that’s all we can promise right now. Maybe later if we are successful we can promise more.
Why should you apply? Maybe you’re looking for something new to do. Maybe the war means a lot to you. Write the two paragraphs as soon as you can and send over right away. Please include your telephone numbers so we can call you back to schedule interviews. Come on, do it now. . Maybe you want to visit Corregidor.