MANILA
I would like to tell you about a man from whom I learned a lot about writing and news reporting. He passed away at age 78 last May 15, the day our last issue came off the press.
His name was Raul S. Gonzalez. He was truly an outstanding man of letters. He was a writer, editor, educator, PR man and mentor to many now-accomplished writers.
Gonzalez was an intrepid newspaperman who would later become press secretary to President Diosdado Macapagal (whose daughter, Gloria, would also become president).
Gonzalez would later spend a long career of mentoring would-be writers and editors as adviser to the editors and staff of DAWN, the University of the East’s weekly student newspaper. UE is one of the popular institutions of learning in what is known in the Philippines as Manila’s University Belt, situated right in the middle of the capital city. No doubt, many Fil-Canadian readers of BALITA had gone to study at UE which, to me, was for many years an excellent but under-appreciated school, especially in the fields of accounting, medicine, dentistry, and law.
Under Gonzalez’s guidance, the DAWN produced noted alumni that include the late prolific Manuel F. Martinez, the Marcelo brothers Levi and Ding, bilingual poet and prose writer Lamberto Antonio, poets Rogelio Mangahas and Teo Antonio, BusinessMirror editor Nonnie Pelayo, former INQUIRER senior executive Sammy Senoren, Dennis Fetalino of People’s Journal, Roman Floresca of the Philippine Star, writer and PR man Ding Generoso, writer/poetess Denn Meneses, and many others who are too numerous to name here but who have placed themselves in senior and responsible positions in Philippine media.
A few years ago, Gonzalez published a long-overdue collection of his writings/columns in book form under the title, “My Malacanang.” The title derives from his childhood years spent in Malacanang, the presidential residence and office, during the time of Manuel L. Quezon, under whom Gonzalez’s father, Arturo, served as resident civil engineer. His writings take the reader from his carefree days in Malacanang to the fearful times of the Japanese occupation.
“My Malacanang” also contains evocative narratives from Gonzalez’s travels, undertaken with President Macapagal or by his lonesome. The essays also include tender love letters to his wife Jean and sons Richie and Noel that were disguised as essays.
Gonzalez’s father died suddenly in Malacanang when a military guard just went berserk and shot Engineer Gonzalez. Bloodied from his gunshot wound, he died in the arms of Raul, the eldest child.
Raul wrote a column for various newspapers over the years, many samples of which are in “My Malacanang,” including pieces on his experiences as press secretary.
(“My Malacanang” was a project of Dawn alumni, compiled and edited by Generoso, Meneses and a certain Leandro Coronel.)
If the presidents (of the nation and of institutions) that he served had delivered scintillating speeches and papers in their time, it was to a large extent because of Gonzalez’s expert pen.
Besides writing inspiring speeches, he was also a public relations practitioner who helped the organizations he served better promote their products or services.
Gonzalez was an excellent writer because he knew and loved language, especially its precision, always aware that specific words have specific meanings. He belongs to a rare class of English writers who put together words with ease and precision and joy.
Those who learned the craft of writing from him will best remember Mr. Gonzalez as the one who taught them not only the prose but also the poetry of writing, not only the grammar but also the grace of English, and not only the style but also the substance of language. He encouraged them to write with an agile mind and an adept pen.
Over the years, those who had passed through the portals of the DAWN, kept in touch with Gonzalez. He was the glue that kept together the fraternity/sorority of Dawn alumni in touch and intact, creating a camaraderie that continues to this day.
For the past five years, Gonzalez fought illness with his mind still vibrant and his sense of humor and irony alive. On May 15, his battle ended. But his memory and inspiration linger among those who learned to write under him.
In 1969, when I was leaving school and poised to go to the United States, I went to see then-retired President Diosdado Macapagal (I now forget the precise reason for my visit, but I think it was to ask the President for a reference to a good US school). When I told the President that I had been writing in the school newspaper DAWN under Gonzalez, Mr. Macapagal described Gonzalez in a certain way that remains with me today.
Macapagal could have said that Gonzalez was a terrific writer and he would have been right. He could have said that Gonzalez was a capable and loyal press secretary and he would have been right. He could have said Gonzalez was an effective PR pro and he would have been right.
Macapagal could have said many complimentary things about Gonzalez and he would have been right. But what he just said was that Gonzalez was an “upright man.”
That, to me, was the best compliment any boss, and indeed President, could have given any associate, especially in the context of the Philippines’ typically dirty politics. To be called an upright man in the Philippines is the ultimate compliment.
That was Raul S. Gonzalez, upright, unassuming and someone who never brought attention to himself. He was happy to be alone with words and the terrific language that they create when put together. That was Raul S. Gonzalez, the man from whom I learned a lot about English and writing.
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