(Part II — My Life with Max)
Max died a year before our golden wedding anniversary. Both of us could not help but foresee the end every time he would undergo a major operation. Four of these happened one after another between 1998 to 2006, when he had the final massive heart attack in Japan. Strange that the first one, a quadruple bypass had to be done right after he lost consciousness during a trip to Japan too. With his kidney infused with medicine with the preparatory carotid operation, he had to undergo weekly dialysis for two years.
This did not prevent him from traveling to join me in Paris for my regular UNESCO meetings or accept an invitation of the Spanish government. Finally a successful kidney transplant by Dr. Liquete restored his original vigor and healthy complexion. But when he slipped and broke his hip, Dr. Ver inserted a titanium metal brace and warned him to be patient with the extremely painful two-month therapy. Much to our relief he was on his feet after one and a half months. At 77 then, he would be vulnerable to a host of ailment like Legionnaire’s Disease, a virulent form of pneumonia he caught in India. This led to his death.
Max as a ‘houseband’
In “Precious Notes,” the preface Max wrote to my book “Half a Millennium of Philippine History”: He stated, “Actually, and I say it with an appropriate stab at modesty, I was a major contributor to her success. As soon as we got our first baby girl, Rachelle, she went off to Italy on an Italian government scholarship. My contribution was to stay behind to change diapers (disposable pampers had not yet been invented), mix the baby’s milk formula, crawl out of my weary bed at ungodly hours like three o’clock in the morning — when many other journalists were wending their way home to bed from the Bar of the National Press Club and sundry other watering holes — to answer the whoops and calls of the infant-tyrant. Both baby and father survived. She now lives in New Jersey and has three cute little daughters of her own — as her Cuban-American husband, Bob, calls them, their Tres Marias.” (Now, they frequent high school in New Jersey.)
“My travails when Precious came back from Perugia, with proud Montessori certificate, were not ended. She again abandoned me with the second baby, Marinella to return to Italy on another scholarship, this time to Bergamo (Near Milan in North, not far from the birthplace of Pope John XXIII, which is called Sotto II Monte). There she took up advanced Montessori and perfected her Italian in speech and writing. But that time, I, too, had become an expert and veteran — in diapers, milk bottles, and sleepy acts of carrying and soothing crying infants. Number two and Papa once more surmounted all mundane obstacles, and now she has three bright kids of her own, two boys and a girl.” (Cyrus, now 21 is working as a pharmacist technician in CBS, the largest pharmaceutical company in US.)
“Just before Number Three, Sara Francesca, Precious went off to London to train in still more advanced Montessori course, this time to relearn that method in English, on a British Council grant.”
The Stonehill controversy
Right after Saigon, our first daughter Rachelle was born and Max returned to the newspaper business.
He was asked by Harry Stonehill to become publisher of The Evening News, with the assistance of Lou Farb. He was then 32 years old. For the following two years, the circulation of the paper zoomed from number six to number two, next to the top paper, The Manila Times. It was the first three edition newspaper in the country. Among his reporters were Louie Beltran, Jullie Yap Daza, Minnie Narciso, Sonny Valencia, Manny Benitez, Jake Clave and Neil Cruz.
When the Stonehill controversy blew up, revealing Stonehill bribing many politicians from the Presidency down to Congress, Max could not be persuaded to defend Harry. Instead he resigned from The Evening News. It was a nerve-wracking period for him.
Henry Kissinger’s boys in Harvard
The 1962 Kissinger grant in Harvard provided a much needed change. Max joined a select group of professionals from all over the world to spend one summer with Henry Kissinger, Dean of International Relations in Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I joined Max and traveled to the United States for the first time. Max, who knew Pierre Salinger, the White House Press Secretary, arranged a personal meeting of his colleagues with President John F. Kennedy. Among them were his Japanese colleague Masayami Yoshi, the president of Keidanren and director of several industries; former Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Leo Tindemans of Belgium; former police general, aide to the King of Thailand and deputy Interior Minister now Senator Vasit Dejkunchorn; former Minister for economic cooperation of Germany, Earhard Eppler, who is still a Socialist member of the Bundestag; Gunther Gaus, former editor of the German Der Spiegel; and former member of the British parliament Eian MacArthur.
On the way back, Max decided to travel leisurely through Europe saying, “We shall never have this chance again.” So for almost 10 months, we looked up his Harvard classmates in London, France, Italy and Germany. We stayed longer with “bachelor” Ambassador Mel Aquino in the embassy residence in Bonn, Germany, accompanying him to present his credentials. We traveled using the new Arthur Frommer’s $5 A Day in Europe. Believe me, but it was possible then in small but cozy and quaint European hotels. Here, guests share common but very clean toilets and bathrooms. That was the sixties. The following 10 years, it cost $15 a day. By the seventies, it became $60 a day. Today, it is €200 a day in Europe.
They called it brotherhood
Before I left for the Montessori teacher training in Perugia, Italy, I was hired by Oscar Arellano in 1963 to head the children’s project of Operation Brotherhood International (OBI). Funded by the three top newspapers, 3,000 squatters were relocated from the ghettoes of Intramuros, during Manila Mayor Villegas’ time, to Sapang Palay. Max was so proud of Oscar and his humanitarian projects, specially the refugee rehabilitation program in Vietnam and Laos, where a Filipino team of doctors and nurses brought a huge relief to the war-torn countries. Six of them even gave their lives in the wilderness of Laos, where they drowned crossing a river. His article, “They Called It Brotherhood” became part of a high school textbook, on Philippine Literature.
Italian Ambassador Rubino and his successor, Ambassador Solera, readily gave me “borsa d’ studio” scholarships to master the Montessori system in Perugia and Bergamo, Italy, so I could use it properly for the poor children. Upon my return, I held the first preschool program at the Syquia apartment suite in M.H. del Pilar, adjacent to the OBI office. As usual, Max would drive me to work daily. The women columnists, including Betty Belmonte wrote glowingly about the “new children”. The enrollment swelled and Oscar had to rent the huge Cu-Unjieng mansion on Escoda, Paco, naming the school “Operation Brotherhood Montessori Center”.
Most sought after travel writer and political analyst
Max’s favorite childhood book, “Travel Adventures of Halliburton” made him want to see the world. This would have been possible only if one were a millionaire. Max soon realized that being a popular travel writer and a political scientist, Ambassadors of the Americas, Europe, Asia and Australia would regularly invite him.
Amusing accounts of local culture and comprehensive coverage of history, filled not one but series of articles on several countries. For each trip, Max would purchase an extra suitcase of books and often more items for his lead soldier collection. His library has been the envy of journalists and scholars. It includes a complete archive of all his articles written on all major Philippine events under 8 presidents and his visits to many countries. For 6 months Nelson Navarro worked here to complete Max’s biography, “Maximo V. Soliven, the Man and the Journalist.” If I may say, this should be required reading for all ambassadors of the Americas, Europe, Asia and Africa, educators, politicians and businessmen.
‘Off to the battlefield’
Everyday, after our morning prayer, Max would kiss me goodbye saying, “Off to the battlefield.” That was also his clarion call when traveling abroad, a privilege that relieved him of worries for our countries.
He became a fellow of IPI (International Press Institute), the association of world publishers. Yearly, we would attend the IPI world conferences, which took place in the fabled Granada, Spain or India with its “Palace on the Wheel” tour of Rajasthan, Moscow and St. Petersburg, Venice, Italy. Hobnobbing with the publishers of the large newspapers of the world, we would stay in the famous five star hotels like Danieli in Venice, the Grand Hotel beside the Kremlin or King David’s Hotel in Jerusalem, Sheraton Hotel and Towers in Riyadh, Charles V in Paris, Westin Palace, Madrid. Its rich heritage architecture and marvelous interiors provided the setting of his exciting articles and columns.
For more information on the book, “Maximo V. Soliven, The Man and The Journalist,” email at: maxv.solivenbook @yahoo.com