It was a double whammy for Central Luzon – first the July 16, 1990 Luzon earthquake that rocked the “Summer Capital” of Baguio City. The 7.2-magnitude shaker that ruptured a 125-km stretch from Dingalan, Aurora to Nueva Ecija killed 1,621. And then the June 15, 1991 eruption of Mt. Pinatubo.
In an instant, my friend and high school classmate Raul Pasion of Barangay Pampang, Angeles City is dead. Fellow Kapampangan Bert “Tisoy” Sarmiento of Floridablanca is also dead. Both Pasion and Sarmiento, along with other workers of the Casino Filipino-Baguio City, all dead, still missing under the rubble of the Hyatt Hotel which fell on its side like an accordion musical instrument. I and my only sister who was then studying at the Saint Louis University survived the shaker.
In relative peace, I went home to Angeles City having transferred at the Casino Fillipino-Angeles. A year later, June 15, 1991 – the “cauliflower” of Mount Pinatubo shot up into the azure sky and made known the lurking danger ahead.
In the blink of an eye, all the Americans at the US-run Clark Air Base left in a long convoy for various destinations all over the country while some had been lucky to seek refuge in Korea and Japan.
June 15, 1991 – the Earth heaved as fine volcanic dust rained incessantly all over Central Luzon. “Apo Namallari” had awakened from its 600-year slumber.
Daytime turned into nighttime, more and more volcanic sediments accumulated on our roof while other residential roofs caved in. From atop our roof in Bagongbayan Subdivision, Angeles City, I could see the erupting volcano spewing fire and brimstones as the Earth heaved ceaselessly.
I thought, this might be the end of us. At least we will die together. We did not leave our precious home in Bagongbayan because we had nowhere else to go. In our deep slumber, my parents could hear the rumbling river of Sapang Balen where the railings of the Bagongbayan Bridge have all disappeared. We opted to stay while others fled from the natural catastrophe.
The next day, the aftermath of the Mt. Pinatubo eruptions, we woke up in a desolate landscape of grey. It was akin to a Martian landscape. We were thrown back to the stone age. No G.I Joe. No government. No work. Nothing. Nada.
I went to the Nepo Mart area and the scene was all devastation all the way to the Abacan Bridge, which was gone. For a time, we had to wallow in knee-deep lahar flow to get to the other side. It was here where the late Manila Bulletin reporter Jerry Lacuarta had been engulfed by the lahar – but survived the ordeal. On the second day, a man came to our house with a local dog in tow. He sold the dog to us and since we did not have the public market yet – we decided to turn the dog instead into a spicy ‘caldereta.’ It was a feast but I could not eat a dog now. I just could not do it anymore.
I was transferred to the Casino-Filipino in Manila but I decided to call it quits. I joined Manila Chronicle where I wrote extensively on the rehabilitation and reconstruction efforts. Twenty-five years after, it’s as if nothing happened to Angeles City. The traces of Mt. Pinatubo’s destruction are gone and in its place was a vibrant city ready to take on the world.
By November 1991, the last of the US airmen to leave Clark Air Base lowered the Stars and Stripes for the last time – as bar girls howled by the sidelines. G.I Joe has left us.