A time to mourn; a time to move on

The death of  at least 74 people in an early morning stampede at the Ultra last Saturday is like 74 shrill wake-up calls for the need for crowd-control, discipline and disaster-preparedness in the country. Okay, even a superpower like the US reeled from the lack of an adequate response to a natural disaster as devastating as Katrina, so there’s no use bleating that lack of preparedness is the hallmark of Pinoy culture. And yet, to exempt ourselves from the "lack of preparedness" seal of disgrace does not mean we shouldn’t do anything about it now.

Since we are a nation with a penchant for gathering en masse – whether to oust a president, to welcome a boxing champ, to listen to evangelists, or to kiss till kingdom come, we should have, by this time, become experts at crowd control. Along with manuals on what to do during earthquakes should be manuals on how to manage crowds – whether they’re waving red flags, white handkerchiefs or raffle tickets. I know that there are logistical requirements for a certain number of people – first aid stations, portable toilets, ambulances. Perhaps, fire trucks, too. But as in all things, all these can just remain in a manual of good intentions till a tragedy like the one in Ultra happens.

It took the sinking of ferry boats and the worst peacetime maritime disaster (the Doña Paz sinking) to rock the complacency and bring to the fore the alleged negligence of Coast Guard officials. To a certain extent, these have brought reforms in the Coast Guard, which, hopefully, will continue its vigilance in checking overcrowded vessels about to set sail. There should also be more campaigns about the sacredness of the pila (queue), whether in schools or stadiums. At least 10 years ago, you wouldn’t see orderly queues in tricycle and FX terminals. Now, you do, because it has become a system honored by the people – whether or not there are cops around. Still, there has to be more awareness in schools and in the media of the sacredness and inviolability of the pila – why, even in lines leading to the altar during communion, there are people who make singit (cut through the lines). In the very house of God! Not just one or two but entire pews of people who refuse to go to the end of the line. Sometimes, I have to strongly remind myself that if I have to remain in a state of grace, I should just turn a blind eye to these singits.

Alas, there is no high-profile precedent in the Philippines (and I am not saying this is unfortunate, but you know how we are – we rise to attention only after accidents!) for multiple deaths due to stampedes or riots. Now that there is, everybody should be more vigilant, more prepared. There are a number of sellout concerts in big venues on Valentine’s Day, and there is the much-anticipated wrestling extravaganza at the Big Dome in Quezon City this February. Last I heard, there are no more tickets to be sold or given away for this wrest-fest. Since my son Chino is one of thousands who bought tickets to the World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) event, I am making it my business to find out how prepared the Araneta Coliseum management is for a crowd (even an orderly crowd) of that magnitude.

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I think the most frightening experience of my life, one of the two times I thought the end could be near (the other was when the plane I was on had to dump fuel after takeoff as the pilot feared engine trouble) was when I got crushed in a crowd during EDSA 2. I kid thee not. I prayed to God to please not make me an EDSA hero. The thought crossed my mind that I would make it to the front page of this newspaper. But not this way, Lord, I prayed. Not here, not now.

Earlier, Chino and I had positioned ourselves in front of the EDSA Shrine and before we knew it, a segment (numbering at least 200) of the crowd, like a tsunami gathering strength, roared our way. Before I knew it, I was no longer in control of my life. I lost sight of my son – that was even more frightening!

Luckily, there was no concrete wall or steel gate in front of the surge. Those caught in the surge were breathing on each other’s faces. I remember looking at some of the organizers perched on flatbed trucks and imploring them to help us. It was a good thing some of them – they had a better view of the crowd – gave directions on where the surge should head. Someone shouted, "Just go with the flow, don’t resist!" I went with the flow because I had no choice. I remember stumbling on an embankment and hoisting myself up on it with all my might. That extricated me from the crowd. Suddenly, I was free, with my blouse twisted 360 degrees. But I was alive and a few feet from where I landed, Chino was smiling at me.

Apparently, he did not get caught in the "tsunami." Smart boy.  Every inch mattered and Chino inched away from the rush of people in the nick of time while I was swallowed by the current that swept by.

The people at Ultra weren’t as lucky. Those at EDSA 2 went there to be living heroes. They were willing to risk their lives for the cause of good government and a better life for their children. They were aware of the dangers. Those who went to Ultra to take part in the first anniversary of Wowowee went there for more or less the same reason – a stab at a better life. But they weren’t prepared to give up their lives in the process but ended up doing so.

Senseless deaths take on a new meaning if, in their aftermath, concrete steps are taken to avoid a repeat of circumstances that contributed to them. There are lessons to be learned from the Ultra tragedy. A colleague once shared with me this Japanese saying, "After the funeral, the laundry."

Life goes on and some things cannot be put off any longer.

KC de Venecia scholarship, open to all arts and sciences students

Two colleagues, one, who went through a bout with cancer, and the other, who lost a beloved husband, tell friends that the only way to survive suffering is to find higher meaning in it. And having survived it, to give it a purpose greater than yourself.

That is perhaps how the family of KC de Venecia, who perished in a fire in her very own home at the age of 16, is surviving the pain of her death. Her family, led by Speaker Jose de Venecia Jr. and Mrs. Gina Vera Perez-de Venecia, have established the KC de Venecia Foundation to help exceptional students from economically disadvantaged families.

KC’s older brother Christopher announced recently that scholarships are now open to Filipino students, who excel in arts and science – fields KC was very passionate about. The applicants should be between ages 16 and 22, with a general average grade of not lower than 85 percent, and interested to pursue studies in the field of arts, like mass communications, journalism, theater arts, speech communications, fine arts, interior design, architecture, literature, arts and letters, music, European languages; and the sciences, like nursing, biology, zoology, biochemistry, molecular biology, computers, food and nutrition, forestry, and the like.

The foundation’s first scholar is Bhea Vacio, a third year fine arts student at the Philippine Women’s University. Her father, a grade school teacher, wrote to the KC Foundation to help support his daughter’s studies. Bhea has produced art works since the age of four, and has won many awards for her work. She would usually use her prize money to fund her education.

But Bhea was close to dropping out of school as she had exhausted all her prize money for past tuition fees. "If not for the KC Foundation, my dreams would have burst like bubbles," she said.

"Some stories end with death," says Christopher, " But KC’s story goes on beyond death, and not everybody gets the opportunity to touch many lives, especially after death. Since KC passed away, there’s INA, there’s KC Foundation, and then Dad’s (Speaker Jose de Venecia’s) proposal for asbestos suit technology to be shipped in from Austria (for firefighters). The burn unit was renovated in the Philippine General Hospital in honor of KC, you have three buildings in Marillac Hills, Haven for Women and Haven for Children – all in honor of KC as well. Her death has led to so many endeavors."

KC’s mother, Gina de Venecia is the foundation’s chairman. The board of directors is composed of: Christopher de Venecia, Ma. Teresa P. Cruz, lawyer Ernesto P. Maceda; Jodel P. Ampil, Jose Miguel P. Nakpil, Phillip Cruz III, Camella Isabel de Venecia, Maria Fredilyn Sta. Ana, Ma. Patricia Claire Perez and Harvey Alumisin.

(KC de Venecia Foundation may be reached at 12 A United St., Brgy. Kapitolyo, Pasig City, with telephone numbers (02) 634-4629/22 and e-mail address: [email protected])

(You may e-mail me at [email protected])