Honoring Filipino-American History Sharing His Story

by Kristine L. Brock

Mining the wealth of Deloitte resources, I became aware October is Filipino-American (Fil-Am) history month and officially nationally recognized in 2009. Learning this as a Filipina American in 2021 was embarrassing and encouraging. Through the years I've taken much for granted. However, after receiving two black and white photos from my Manang (older sister) my heart filled with gratitude. The pictures were of my dad while he served in the US Air Force (USAF) during the Vietnam War. Gazing at the photos a young handsome man and parts of my son, also serving in the USAF, smiled back at me. I recalled the last time with my parents and the importance of storytelling and history. I felt called to capture moments my kids, grandson, and future grandkids could pass down as lessons of history, and our personal history.

Happy with a half crescent smile, my Papa, "Pop" takes a sip of his drink. Amidst the COVID-19 pandemic my family is reunited to celebrate and honor another family member's life. I'm slumped in a chair over the dining table of our AirBnB across from Pop. It's a late night in LA county and I'm jet-lagged just arriving from the DC area. I want to sleep, but I've missed my family and I want to soak in these moments. "We were living in Guam (US territory) at the time, your Grandpa, a former Filipino Merchant Marine was gone often." My Pop pauses then continues, "He also had three jobs and I had to help out." My Pop, the oldest child, is from a family of ten. "One of the jobs your Grandpa had was to deliver the daily newspaper all over the island and I did that for him." My eyebrows frowned, and Pop realizing what I was thinking said, "It was different back then." He waves his hand and continues, "I dropped off the papers like early morning- three or four- something like that." He rubs his chin, "I'm on the Navy side of the island and there's this guy." Pop explains the two exchange pleasantries and discovers the American, abandoned by his friends after a late night out, was lost trying to figure how to get back to where he was staying. "Where are you staying? That's what I asked him," Pop says. No longer slumped I lean in looking at my Pop's face. He's content re-living the, the time of his youth. "The guy told me he needed to get to the other side of the island actually, back on the Air Force base. I let him know I could give him a ride if he wanted. The guy was really happy- thankful, you know. I said it's on my route anyway, so it's no big deal." Pop goes on to tell me the two make their way into the old family truck with its DIY cab my grandpa jimmied together and learns the man is in the Air Force. "That's when I tell him I tried to get in the Air Force, but they didn't let me in because I'm a Filipino citizen. My dad's voice heightens, "Then the guy asked me if I had to register for the draft as a US immigrant. I said yeah, I had to." Pop waving both arms as if they are helping him speak, continued, "The guy got mad. He told me that's not right and told me to meet him at the CBPO (Consolidated Base Personnel Office) the next day."

My Pop continued, "I didn't know if this guy would show up. Even if I wanted to ask for him, I couldn't remember his name or his face..." Pop's voice raised excitedly, "Then he showed up! Thankfully, he recognized me. Turns out he was an officer. When we went inside, the guy asked the clerk 'You mean to tell me he can be drafted to war, but he can't even enlist in the US Air Force?' I was able to enlist right then and there."

After my stun wore off, I looked at my Pop in awe with a gratitude-filled heart. He made a choice to help a stranger and in that moment started a new chapter of history in his life. My Pop's choice impacted his future wife, children, and his grandchildren. My Fil-Am history is made of stories like these.