Waiting for our Hero to come...

Today, when I was 6, my family and I waited outside the Greenfields Country Club facing the Mac Arthur Highway for a caravan to pass by. Me and my Mom and Dad and my Sister Aie and brother Justin. I didn't know who we were waiting for at that time. It turns out, we were waiting for Ninoy's caravan to pass though Pampanga en route to Tarlac. His plane had just landed and was set to go home to his hometown of Concepcion and possibly set up a Press Conference on his much awaited return from exile to face the Dictatorship of the tyrant who was Ferdinand Marcos.

Needless to say, his caravan never showed up.


He could have been a good President, if not our best President, ever. He turned out to be something more.