Many of us wrote down our most crucial, most personal stories of survival in 2022. The most demanding story I wrote was the militarization of my grandfather's cattle ranch in the Philippines in the late 1970s. I was a queer boy coming of age when a spate of killings and political violence erupted in the central plains of Luzon. Those were the final years of martial law during the Marcos dictatorship. I had so many questions. It would take forty years before I was able to piece everything together. Not all of it. While giving a writing workshop in Los Angeles in 2019, one of the Filipina participants walked up to me during the break and told me that she knew about the ranch.
Lolit Lledo, a community organizer in Los Angeles, said she was there when it happened--at the ranch. I was stunned. Lolit mentioned details that only I would know. We decided to meet later in San Francisco.
We spoke for more than three hours. We first met at the Landmark Embarcadero and then had lunch at Sunflower Vietnamese Restaurant at the Mission. This photo was taken at a convenience store across the restaurant.
Lolit was a young med student when she joined the underground movement and ended up in Nueva Ecija. I was twelve years old when the ranch became a conflict zone between the insurgents and the military.
Lolit posted this photo on her page in 2019. "Meeting our mentor on writing, Willy Pascual and sharing our stories... we talked about how I can start writing my story, all the things I can remember..." Lolit wanted to write them down so she could pass them on to her grandchildren.
And then the pandemic happened and we all went on lockdown. I was at a mental rehabilitation facility when I started writing parts of the story. I don't think I could have finished writing it without the help of my therapist and my husband. It became harder to hold things together in middle-age. It was exhausting work. But I finished it along with other personal essays. I was mostly away from social media the entire year so I thought I'd reach out to Lolit a few weeks ago. I learned from Cecile Ochoa of the Filipino American Press Club of L.A. that Lolit passed away while she was on vacation in the Philippines last September 2022.
I remember Lolit's stories, the stories told by the cowboys at the ranch, my family, how we all got caught in a war, how we escaped and survived it. Lolit moved to the U.S. and is known as a hero in the community, fighting for the rights of immigrants and Filipino caregivers, a true warrior. I remember that afternoon in San Francisco. For the first time, Lolit and I talked about a place where our paths crossed in our youth. She told me about the day the military came and how she escaped. She asked me about the last time I was at the mountain ranch. I told her it was on my twelfth birthday. We found out that our birthdays were a day apart. She was born December 19 and I was born December 21. Lolit passed away while vacationing in Boracay with her family. She suffered a heart attack. When she died, so many people came to pay respects. She was selfless. She dedicated her life to the poor. Thank you for your life, Lolit Lledo.
Below are two photos of the ranch.
LOLIT: "I remember Villa Marina. It was paradise. Basta noong nandoon ako, lahat ng mga sariwang prutas, as in susungkitin mo sa puo, andoon. May waterfalls. Ang daming baka. Doon ko nalaman na pag pauuwiin mo na ang mga baka sa kanilang kulungan, sisigaw ka ng malakas na malakas na SIN! Kaya tanong ko, bakit sin ang sigaw, yun pala ASIN yun. Kaya pala maraming sako-sako na asin doon. Yun pala kinakain ng mga baka. At paborito ng mga baka ang asin dahil it makes their body warm.
A scene in the 1974 Filipino classic Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang by National Artist Lino Brocka was filmed at the ranch.
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