Emmanuel S. Bacleon, an ardent Filipino
nationalist and a passionate student activist in his time, died peacefully in
his home in Arleta, California last April 7, 2010. He was 58.
Manny's unassuming personality, humility and sincerity endeared him to his friends. He was a dutiful son to his parents and a caring brother to his siblings.
He was born on August 20, 1951 in Cabadbaran, Agusan del Norte, Philippines, the fifth child among the nine children of Melencio Ala-an Bacleon and Irene Josefa Antiga Sarita. His father was a tailor and his mother was a full-time housewife. After finishing his elementary education at Candelaria Institute in Cabadbaran, he entered the Sacred Heart Seminary in Lawaan, Talisay, Cebu.
His high school classmates Celestino Mausisa and Mercurio Montenegro fondly remember him as small in stature with a big heart and very approachable especially when it came to helping them in their Latin subject where Manny excelled. He was the valedictorian of class 1967.
After his high school graduation, he stayed in the seminary for two more years as a college student majoring in Philosophy. Upon the encouragement and a scholarship offer from Fr. Matthew van Santvoord, MSC, at the time, the parish priest of Cabadbaran and Director of Candelaria Institute, Manny left the seminary and took up BS Physics at the University of San Carlos in Cebu City starting on the summer of 1969.
He was just few months into the university when he discovered his debating skills and polished it by joining debating contests and garnering awards as Best Debater and as Best Speaker during the USC debate in the same summer that he entered the university. For some time he was president of the USC Debating Team.
He was about to finish his studies in San Carlos when martial law was declared by then President Ferdinand Marcos. Manny was among those wanted by the military being one of the top student leaders and he went into hiding to elude arrest.
A few days before Christmas, Manny was with his sister Gilda attending the Misa de Gallo at the Santo Rosario Church in P. del Rosario Street in Cebu City when military-looking men approached them and whisked Manny away. Gilda remembers that day very well: December 16, 1972.
Manny never returned to their boarding house which was just located near the church. That afternoon at about 6 PM, Gilda received a call from the military camp in Jones Avenue informing her that Manny was in detention and that she had to bring him clothing, mat, mosquito net and other personal belongings. He stayed in the stockade in Jones Avenue for a few months. He was later transferred to Camp Lapu-lapu in Lahug, Cebu City.
While in detention, he joined tournaments in the game of chess with his fellow political prisoners and he won many times in those games. His sister Gilda visited him every week and brought him food and news stories of what's happening in the country. The prisoners had no access to newspapers, TV and radio.
In the summer of 1974, Manny was transferred to Fort Bonifacio Rehabilitation Center in Makati where he suffered torture and deprivation which caused him and other detainees to launch hunger strike. His sister Gilda got a first-hand experience of how relatives of detainees felt shame and humiliation as they underwent strict body search and inspection before they could see their imprisoned kin.
By this time, some concerned sector of the Philippine society started organizing themselves to help detainees and their families through legal channels. Foremost among these organizations was the Task Force Detainee who worked for the release of the political prisoners. Prominent nationalist lawyers like the late Senators Jose Diokno and Lorenzo Tanada extended their legal expertise and their resources through these organizations.
Manny was a beneficiary of these concerted efforts. He was released from prison weak and emaciated. His body bore scars due to physical torture. Later on his sisters realized that he bore psychological scars too. He was no longer the energetic and enthusiastic person that they used to know.
After his release he came to the United States to join his parents and some of his siblings who were already residing here. His years in prison made him incapable of finding work in his new country. But his sisters and brother were supportive of him. He was in constant medication to keep those mental demons restrained and to keep him from having nervous breakdown. Freed from the rigors of employment, his typical day included going to the library to read any book that interested him. He also tutored his nieces in their math and science lessons.
Manny had one dream that persisted up to the day he died. He wanted to go back to the Philippines to help his struggling countrymen in any way he could. But his sisters won't let him. Manny is gone but his indomitable spirit lives on
To many of his colleagues who were infected by his enthusiasm and learned from him, he is a hero. In the words of Dr. Raul Monton, a colleague who considered him his mentor during the student activism days, "He was such a likable and a fiercely unselfish nationalist who dedicated his life to serving the Filipino. He was unwavering in his conviction. There are only a few Filipinos like him. I will not forget the days we were together fighting the Dictatorship while others were just enjoying in their comfort zone."
Finally, Manny's favorite quotation is worth contemplating: "Every person dies; but each death varies in significance." Indeed, Manny's death was significant. But it was because he led a significant life, touching the lives of countless of his countrymen. A life that was willing to sacrifice for what he believed in.
Epilogue
I wrote this piece as a eulogy during Manny's wake. Like Dr. Monton, I also considered Manny as my mentor. I first met him in the summer of 1971 when I attended a teach-in seminar conducted by him and other vacationing student leaders from Cebu and Manila. Manny and his group converted me and my friend, Misach, overnight and opened our understanding on the relevant political issues of the country at the time. I lost track of him after martial law was declared.
Thirty years later, I would meet him again in Los Angeles, California. He was sharing an apartment with their mother in San Fernando Valley while I was then teaching at a nearby city of Oxnard. I was a frequent visitor in their apartment during weekends where we enjoyed reminiscing our student activism days. Manny and I were actively involved in the organizational formation of the Cabadbaranons of Southern California where we were both elected as Public Relations officers. The following year, I transferred to New York and then to Alabama.
I returned to California in late February of 2010. I informed Manny that I was back and promised that I would visit him in a few weeks as soon as I get myself settled down and my schedule would allow me. That promise did not materialize. The week before my planned visit, his sister Emma informed me that Manny had already passed away.
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