Tito Jun

The people we meet always serve a purpose in our lives. It is no accident that we bump into them or are introduced to them. Some may break our hearts. But many will surely inspire us. They will assist us in putting one brick after the other to help us build our dreams. And as always, in the many people we meet in our lifetime, a few remain far too exceptional to be ignored or forgotten.

In my life, I was blessed to cross paths with Tito Jun.

It was in the middle of summer’s searing heat of 1984 when I first met Constancio Gana Alimagno Jr., more commonly known as Jun, in his trucking company in Cabuyao. Inside the compound were a number of 10- and 16-wheeler trucks and stacks of wooden pallets piled neatly on the sides. Outside his air-conditioned office was an open-air nipa hut surrounded by three aratilis trees. I found him there sitting on a long palo-china bench in white karsonsilyo and white T-shirt. The morning heat made him squint but when he smiled, he revealed his sincerity with his smiling eyes that seemed to slightly bulge from their sockets.  He had a booming voice that almost scared me out of my wits. But that day, I prepped up myself that I would not be inhibited.

It had just been a month since the day of my graduation from Gulod Elementary School when I first met him. Mrs. Adelia Nido Galang, my Grade VI adviser, and the school principal, Mr. Ulpiano Barrientos introduced me to him that day. They brought me to his office because they were confident I would get a scholarship from him. Armed with a brown envelope that contained my school report card and the medals I received, I confidently told him I wanted to go to a private high school (Cabuyao Institute) but my parents did not have the means to afford my education. The P50-tuition fee a month, miscellaneous fee and book expenses were just too expensive for my parents, who were both farmers.

He looked at my card, ran his right thumb against the face of one of my medals and told me: “I-promise mong mag-aaral kang mabuti. Iyon lang ang hiling ko (Promise that you will study hard. That’s my only condition).” I nodded. When he saw the undeniable joy crisscrossing my face, he stood up from the long bench with my brown envelope, proceeded to the air-conditioned office with my teachers and me and introduced me to his sister-in-law Connie Alimagno, apparently the finance officer of the company.

“Si Tenorio, taga-Gulod, bagong scholar natin,” he told the people in his office. That moment, the 12-year-old in me knew one foot of mine was already at the doorstep of realizing my dreams. Within the day, I was already enrolled as a freshman student at Cabuyao Institute.

It took my grade school teachers to believe in me, that I could attend high school. It took another man to believe further that I could fly. All I needed was determination.

***

My relationship with Tito Jun was further cemented when his niece Mye Alimagno-Pascual and I became very good friends while we were both studying in UP Los Baños. It was a friendship that made me closer to their family.

Even after college, I would still see Tito Jun — the Cabuyao community is relatively small after all. He was always ready with a smile. I was never remiss in profusely showering him with kind words of gratitude. He said he was not perfect as a man but if there was some semblance of perfection that he did in his life, it would be his immediate decision to help me with my high school education.

On the last weekend of September 2009, he came to the house. Under our narra tree, he engaged me in a serious conversation.

“Gusto ko lang makasiguro na hindi ka bibitiw (I just want to make sure that you’re still with us),” he said.

Perplexed, I asked, “On what, Tito Jun?”

“Si Noynoy na ang tatakbong presidente. Kay Noynoy tayo.”

Next thing I knew, he was giving me a tarpaulin of Noynoy Aquino. This tarpaulin, though washed out by time, has remained hanging in our narra tree at home.

***

In 1986, after the People Power revolution, President Corazon Aquino appointed Constancio “Jun” Alimagno Jr. as mayor of Cabuyao. He was the president of the Laguna Mayors’ League from 1986 to 1988. People in the barrios of Cabuyao knew him as the mayor who traveled around in his short pants and plain loose white shirt without any security. Prior to being the town mayor, he was a municipal councilor from 1968 to 1986. 

He led the campaign of Mrs. Aquino in Cabuyao during the 1986 snap election. It was in front of his brother’s house, architect Ed Alimagno, that a makeshift stage fashioned from a 16-wheeler truck, was set up one night and where Tita Cory delivered her speech before a multitude of people. In the middle of her speech, the power supply was interrupted but the Alimagno brothers were ready with generators. They remembered Cory, after her speech, just asked for a glass of water before proceeding to her next sortie that night. 

When the late Cardinal Sin called on the people to troop to EDSA, Tito Jun brought out his trucks and hired jeepneys so the townspeople have mobility to participate in the People Power revolt.

He and his brothers did the same thing of bringing people to Manila Memorial Park in August 2009 to witness the historic funeral of Tita Cory.

Tito Jun, though silent in his fervor, was always proud he had a tinge of yellow running in his blood.

***

Tito Jun was re-elected mayor of Cabuyao from 1992 to 1995. Before his term ended, he was awarded as one of the Outstanding Mayors in the Philippines by the Progressive Alliance for Democracy of the Department of Interior and Local Government. In the field of 1,605 mayors around the Philippines in 1995, Tito Jun was one of the five local chief executives chosen to receive the award.

He was recognized for his astute dedication to build Ospital ng Cabuyao, which, during that time, was already  loaded with modern facilities and equipment. He also helped put up a polytechnic school called Laguna State Polytechnic College in Cabuyao so the residents of the town would have access to free tertiary education.

In his heart, he had always remained a public servant.

***

Three Sundays ago, I visited Tito Jun at the ICU where he had been confined after he suffered a massive stroke. I held his hand and thanked him again. His eyes were closed but I knew he could hear me because he would press my hand every time I thanked him for all the beautiful opportunities that came my way as a result of his kindness to me once upon a time.

Last Wednesday, at 68, he had a peaceful crossover.

True, the people we meet in our lives can sometimes break our hearts or inspire us to soar. Tito Jun’s passing breaks my heart. But his generosity will always mend it. His generosity will be my guiding light in achieving more and giving back more.

Tito Jun will always be too exceptional to be forgotten. I remain grateful.

(For your new beginnings, please e-mail me at bumbaki@yahoo.com. Follow me on Twitter @bum_tenorio. Have a blessed Sunday.)