By Mr. RAUL S. GONZALEZ

(Although Chairman P. O. Domingo passed away—on June 26, or 17 days ahead of former UE Trustee Francisco Dalupan Jr., it was on the same day—July 8—that I learned about their departure. On the day the Chairman left this world, I was undergoing surgery, the second in 10 days. The news of POD’s death was kept from me to prevent my sinking into depression. I learned about it—and of Francis’ departure on July 13—on the day I was allowed to come home.—RSG)

“Para silang aso’t pusa” was how Milda Ang characterized the relationship between Francis and me during the chairmanship of Jovy Lorenzo—a time of great moment for both the University and the Republic. Although still dominating CPA examinations and UAAP competitions, UE was fast discovering that growth is not always salutary; it could be cancerous. Caught in the growth game, UE had to borrow to finance expansion. A series of currency devaluations and the setting of controls over tuition increases, plus the weakening of the Marcos government, drove UE to the edge of bankruptcy.

To ensure UE’s continued operations, Lorenzo formed a management committee made up of EVP Benjamin Blanco, VPs Francis Dalupan of Human Resources, Ernie Gallardo of Accounting, Gene Romillo of Finance, Milda Ang of Research and Development, and Raul S. Gonzalez of University Relations, and Legal Counsel Gus Benitez—charging it to persuade government to address the plight of private education.

But the committee meetings instead became a forum for argumentation and debate, notably between Francis and me. I now realize our disagreement arose from a generation gap. He thought my ideas foolhardy and I found his hoary. The frequency and ferocity of the debates spilled over beyond the meetings and, but for his innate civility, could have soured our friendship.

It didn’t take long for me, however, to discover how gentle this gruff man can be—the playfulness beneath his stoicism, his humongous sense of humor and his massive delight in life.

************************

On more than one occasion, mostly during our drunken moments, I would tell Francis that he should go to court to have his name changed. It is not just that the name Francis, with its connotation of saintliness and “goody-goodyness,” did not fit his macho image; I told him that not even his father, UE founding President Francisco Ternate Dalupan, relished being addressed as Francis, which he deemed a sissified version of Francisco. He preferred Kiko, even Pacquing, or Quitong, “if only for their sexual undertone.”

My guess is that it was the old man “Dalup” himself who made his eldest son use Francis instead of Frank or even Cisco, just to divert it away from him.

Francis, on the other hand, was proud—very proud—of his name. It isn’t everyone, after all, who carries a name known far and wide, honored and respected by many. He brushed aside my thesis that naming one’s son junior is dooming that son to failure.

To this day, I believe that if Francis had been given another name, he would have lived up to his high dreams instead of being unfairly compared to the man after whom he—and a building at UE—was named.

************************

There was something different about the P. O. Domingo who summoned me to his office that May afternoon. For one, he looked vulnerable—no fire in his eyes, no roar in his voice, no arrogance in the jut of his jaw!

When he waved off the document I had with me, which had on its upper-right corner his exquisitely handwritten directive, “Raul, pls. see me,” and instead proceeded to thank me, albeit fumblingly, for what I had been doing for him, I felt my eyes misting as it dawned upon me that the sun was setting on a god of mine.

“They were right about you,” he said in a voice barely audible. Then he asked: “Do you know who really was responsible for your coming back to work here? Who nagged and pestered me into getting you—no matter what?”

I remember replying: “All I know, sir, is that I agreed to work here again because it was you who asked me.”

“Yes. I know that and that’s the impression I tried to give you.” The Chairman went on. “But the truth is, it was Francis Dalupan who kept at me to get you at any cost, by hook or by crook. Every time we had a problem, he’d say: “Sana narito si Raul.” I felt, however, that he was overrating you. It wasn’t until Gus Benitez joined Francis in his call that I got in touch with you.”

I remember the Chairman inviting me to lunch at Edsa Shangri-la, telling me how desperately UE needed an articulator while at the same time intimating it could afford only so much for one. He was surprised when I accepted the offer.

Hey, Francis—I owe you pala. In payment of which you have my promise that I’ll never refer to you again as a UE “bigwig,” that I’ll cease and desist from provoking you to pointless debate; that you will be remembered.

************************

Only three of the people mentioned by name in this piece still live—Milda Ang, who still teaches; Ernie Gallardo, who is into the manufacture of bras—yes, bras or salung-suso; and I.

In the order of their disappearance: Gene Romillo passed on in the late ’80s; President Dalupan and Chairman Lorenzo in the early ’90s; Gus Benitez three years ago; EVP Blanco early this year in Virginia, USA; Chairman Domingo and Francs D. just weeks ago.

To them, from Edna St. Vincent Millay and me, these lines:

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned

With lilies and with laurel they go.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.

Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.

A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,

A formula, a phrase remains—but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter,

the love—

They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled

Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know.

More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave

I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.