I learned from church that a man’s story is often told in the lives of his children. Some, like the late Max Soliven or Manong Max as I called him, has the benefit of having his story reflected in human form and the printed word.
Tomorrow, the printed account of the life of “Maximo V. Soliven – The Man and the Journalist”, will be launched at The Manila Peninsula. Aside from being a biography, the book is equally a testimony to the love and dedication of his daughter Sara Soliven de Guzman who reportedly spent almost five years putting the materials together, before turning them over to the “chosen one”, author/journalist Nelson Navarro who had both the honor and immense burden to encapsulate a lifetime within 400 pages.
Having known Max Soliven the least, I feel ill equipped to write about his upcoming biography since I had very little direct knowledge of his experiences and escapades. Truth be told, if this were a court of law, practically everything I knew about the man would be “hearsay” or second-hand in nature.
Unlike my colleagues I did not have the good fortune of working with him or for him. Like many of his readers, I knew Manong Max by his own accounts, particularly his interesting and educational “travelogues”.
I am certain that the book as well as all the forthcoming reviews will recall and regale us with the life and times of Manong Max. But I do have my own story about Max Soliven, that won’t be in the book.
I made mention of it in this column space once but chose to skip the finer details. Perhaps today would be an appropriate occasion to complete the sketch. While others will recall and regale the wit, valor and fury of Max Soliven, I am constantly reminded of his act of kindness and perhaps continuing commitment to his often troubled friendship with my dad, Louie Beltran.
Manong Max and my dad had one of those love-hate relationships that was perpetually sewn by their profession and shared misadventures. Ultimately the friendship ran aground as their common enemies in politics and journalism succeeded in misleading Cory Aquino to file a libel case against the dynamic duo.
My dad went to his grave not knowing that he would be proven innocent, while Manong Max received a hollow victory in a case in which he was merely dragged into as a form of harassment and intimidation. Sadly, death robs men of opportunities to restore friendships but God on the other hand opens windows for restoration.
It was several years later when I became acquainted with Manong Max. It started when we asked him to “guest” on the show “Straight Talk”, then I would bump into him at the studio during a presidential election and eventually, I found myself “invading” the Tuesday Club to meet up with an associate who was in need of marital counseling.
I thought nothing of these “encounters” since I was in broadcasting and Manong Max was predominantly and dominantly entrenched in print media. Then one day God decided to open a window.
I had just resigned from ABS-CBN and was officially “jobless” and decided that my time would be better spent ministering to a friend than worrying about being unemployed for four days. So I was once again at the Tuesday Club when Butch Raquel of GMA-7 whispered to Manong Max that I had resigned from Channel 2.
I did not think much of it, I was not even thinking of employment possibilities at the moment, certainly not at the Philippine STAR where a long waiting line of aspiring journalists and would-be columnists have taken a number. (In truth, a couple of good friends had actually tossed my name in the hat but Manong Max reportedly quipped that he already hired a “Beltran” once and that earned him a major libel case, so once was enough.)
As I turned away from the whispering pair, I heard the clear and commanding tapping of a butter knife upon a crystal goblet. As I looked, I saw Manong Max calling everyone’s attention and then announcing, actually introducing the newest columnist of The Philippine STAR: Cito Beltran.
Even before I could catch my breath from the shock and surprise, he took me aside and told me: “Don’t write about politics, everyone else is already doing that. Talk about human interest, about life because you’re good at that. I’ve seen you do it on your TV show, so write about it.”
For several years after that, I looked back at Manong Max’s action as an act of kindness, but in remembering the past, I would venture that it was a God-given opportunity and Manong Max’s way of restoring and keeping his commitment to a friendship that once ran aground.
What he could no longer do for his friend, Manong Max extended to the son.
As I close, I am reminded of King David who made a promise to his best friend Jonathan, that he would show kindness to Jonathan’s family should Jonathan die in battle. When Jonathan died and David became king he sent out his men to find any living child or kin of Jonathan so that he may show them kindness.
David eventually found a crippled son and took him to the palace where he ate at the king’s table and turned over to him the estate of Jonathan and all the workers therein. In doing so, he kept his promise to show kindness to the children of Jonathan even after his death.
Thanks to Manong Max, I have seen and come to know such an act of kindness.
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