Former Defense Secretary and Armed Forces chief of staff Angelo T. Reyes was laid to rest last Sunday — a beloved husband and father, a military hero and an innocent man. Forever an angel.
Technically, since he did not stand trial on allegations of corruption and was never proven guilty in a court of law — Angie Reyes died an innocent man. Intelligent and sharp, Angie probably figured out, as he contemplated suicide, that he would be salvaging his honor, pieces of it, after it was shattered publicly in a hearing and its aftermath. He probably hoped that death would bestow upon people the grace of understanding, forgiveness, so that the pieces of his honor — smashed by allegations, not solid proof — can be glued together again by chroniclers of history. So that the General Angelo T. Reyes his grandchildren will read about in history books one day will not be the same one painted by Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV (“You have no reputation to protect…”).
Let us honor Reyes for his accomplishments and sacrifices in the name of duty, but I am starting to worry that in the past few days, we have been glorifying his suicide. Let us not glorify the taking of one’s own life (offering one’s life to save others is another story) even if for noble purposes, even if it seems, just as it seems now, that the end justified the means. I know other cultures believe in suicide as an honorable exit, but I believe that it is also possible to redeem one’s honor in life. Those who share Angie’s Catholic faith know that the Church no longer condemns suicide because it believes those who took their own lives may not have been in full control of themselves at the time. We have a faith that reflects God’s understanding and forgiveness.
I refuse to judge Angie Reyes now, as I admit I was not slow to judge him after allegations of corruption were hurled at him at the Senate. I had my reasonable doubts about the allegations, but I didn’t defend him, either. Mea culpa, Sir. I kept quiet. Mea culpa. After all, Angie was more than an acquaintance — fellow STAR editors and I had lunches and dinners with him, once, in his own “White House” in Camp Aguinaldo, where he and his family lived when he was Defense chief. I owed him one, too. Once, after a car chased our family car all the way from Tagaytay to Bacoor in what seemed a case of road rage, I narrated to Angie, then Defense or DILG chief, the details of the horrifying chase. He asked me if I had the plate number of the offending vehicle (which actually grazed our car repeatedly). I gave it to him and not long after, he called my mobile phone with the address of the person to whom the car was registered. My husband and I decided to forget the incident and move on, but I never forgot that Angie offered his help at a time when I was afraid for my family’s safety. Someone who went out of his way to help others must have felt profoundly betrayed when people who mattered to him fed him to the wolves.
My cousin Aimee Loleng Ferrer, wife of Angie’s former colleague DENR Undersecretary Joel Ferrer, recounted to me the homily of Fr. Joel Aguas S.J. at Angie’s wake Saturday night. In his homily, Father Aguas admitted he, too, pre-judged Angie based on media coverage of the Senate hearings. The priest, a batchmate of President Noynoy Aquino at the Ateneo since prep, apologized to the Reyes family for pre-judging Angie based on a trial by publicity.
It all changed when he heard so many good things about ATR (Angelo T. Reyes) from various sectors at the wake. How upright and helpful he was. When he saw how humble and meek ATR’s children were, short of bowing to people they were receiving at the wake, Father Aguas was convinced these boys were not offspring of a corrupt man, Aimee recounted.
She also learned at the wake that Angie never used plate number “6,” which gave him certain perks and privileges. He would not speak ill of other people and if he had nothing good to say about a person, he would just “shut up,” according to Father Aguas.
At the end of his homily, Father Aguas asked that he be allowed to salute Angie in his casket, even if he was not a military man. The mourners burst into applause as the priest saluted the general.
I also admired greatly Angie’s widow Teresita after she was interviewed during his wake. She said she wanted peace and welcomed everybody, friend and foe alike, to his wake. She said she has forgiven all those who vilified her late husband, but said they, however, must also face their God.
***
How was Angie like? I pored over past articles I had written about him.
He was a man of peace.
On the eve of the first anniversary of EDSA Dos in January 2001, I asked if he had any regrets over his withdrawal of support for President Estrada, which many believed was the turning point that led to the latter’s stepping down from the presidency.
Angie recalled that in a meeting with then Prime Minister Go Chok Tong in Singapore — Mr. Go admitted to liking Mr. Estrada — he was asked the same thing.
Angie said he had no regrets because “I did not want blood spilled on the streets.”
“If you will ask me to choose between the government and the people — if the people are fighting for good governance — I will take the side of the people.”
When he gave you his loyalty, he was loyal to the death.
We asked him in August 2003, a month after the Oakwood Mutiny led by then Navy Lt. Antonio Trillanes IV, what song (Once when we asked him if he could carry a tune, he replied, “And how!”) he would offer President Gloria Arroyo in troubled times, he proceeded to sing, “When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high, and don’t be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky… Walk on through the wind. Walk on through the rain… And you’ll never walk alone…”
The mutineers wanted Reyes to resign but Mrs. Arroyo stood by him, saying, “They want Angie Reyes out because they want to weaken me. I will not fall into their trap.”
***
Reyes was just a little over five years old when he entered first grade. Both his parents were teachers, and they brought him with them to school when no one would babysit him. He remembered many happy moments sitting on the window sill of the faculty room, watching the students pass by.
He graduated high school at 15 and entered the Philippine Military Academy, the first one in the Reyes family to become a soldier. Reyes told us that he used to be a very stern father until he realized his five sons were growing up afraid of him.
But he was very proud that he and Teresita raised sons whom he described as “very courteous, considerate and unassuming.”
In May 2001, I asked him if he had trust issues with the members of the Arroyo Cabinet, as he was a holdover from the Estrada administration.
“That’s their problem,” Angie replied. “I do the work at hand in the best way I can. The most important thing is that you are at peace with yourself.”
Wherever you are, Sir Angie, I know for sure that, “When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high, and don’t be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm is a golden sky… Walk on through the wind. Walk on through the rain… And you’ll never walk alone…”
Farewell and Godspeed.
(You may e-mail me at joanneraeramirez@yahoo.com)