Death is never easy.

More so, when it is your own child. Young Arnold Jamias Quisquirin died of a prolonged cold while playing in the rain. Later that progressed to an pneumonia-like illness, which abruptly killed him while he was still asleep.

He was my second eldest brother, the toddler who I never knew, and probably never will. I wonder still, to this day, what joy, arguements, disagreements and tears of how his life–and mine–would have been, had he lived. I still wonder. XXX

Arnold, though I never knew you, you were the “lucky brother” who had more ninongs and ninangs than any of our other siblings. I bet your life would have been more wonderous, had you lived. i know mine, would have been. I bid you a belated farewell on this anniversary and I pray heaven is better than we can imagine. I bid you hope, I bid you peace, but; more importantly, I bid you…Love.

To my cousins in Vallejo.

A belated “gift” in the Chinese New Year of the Ox. May you download it soon. As I may take it away in two or three months from now.

Here they come

March to a different drummer.

Nearly everybody loves a parade, and this one is no exception. I’m not sure if this parade was during Hawaii’s Territorial years or a few months later when Hawaii became the 50th State.

What I, especially, like about this photograph are the subtle clues in: the style of dress of both the marchers and the spectators; the numerous palm trees blowing in the wind and the shadows waving on the late afternoon ground; but more importantly, I know intimately where this place was before they tore down the buildings and made the street straighter. Waikiki-she used to be my playground.

We're Open

There are very few people who can remember that there used to be a Philippine Consulate on Kilauea Avenue in Hilo, Hawaii. Opened in January 1949, under the direction of Vice-Consul Anastacio Bartolome, the elite staff included: Mr. Apolinario En. Quisquirin; his wife Mrs. Evangeline J. Quisquirin; Mrs. Paulina Bartolome; 2 other bachelor men whose names I will include as soon as I find them; and lastly by Angela, the Vice-Consul’s not-yet-a-teen daughter.

Existing documentation and correspondence with the main office in Honolulu are rare. Possibly the only surviving evidence resides with me. I have my father’s photo-scrapbook which he dedicated to my mother, as a memento of their early years in Hilo.

Sometime in 1952–somebody correct me, if I’m wrong–a tidal wave bombarded Hilo, and flooded most of downtown Hilo. Nearly all documents in the Hilo branch were soaked and were considered unsalvageable. Needless to say, the branch office closed, and another episode of the Philippine Consulate in Hilo was forgotten.

Or has it? Do you remember or have stories that might be worth repeating? Feel free to post, comment or just ‘talk story.’ I welcome it.
Aloha.

A Hidden Treasure: The Newly-Purchased Philippine Consulate, 1948

The first Philippine Consulate was located in a dental-medical office building on Kukui Street when it opened in late Jan 1947. It was rather small, so, Consul General Modesto R. Farolan sought a new and spacious home for the Philippine government. After months of deliberation, a deal was made with the Horner family. The “summer mansion” of the sugar-planter Horner family–which incidentally was also used by the German government as a temporary honorary consulate, prior to WWII–was finally sold to the Philippine government.

Unfortunately, Consul General Farolan was scheduled to leave in the winter for his next assignment. So, business transactions were rushed, and proceeds were quickly raised for the first installment payments. Fortunately,The Philippine Consulate General-Hawaii opened in the fall of 1948.

Under the next Consul General, Juan C. Dionisio, a foundation fund was created and the balance of payment was eventually paid in full. No longer hidden by the leafy flora, the Philippine Consulate General-Hawaii stands proud at its permanent address at 2433 Pali Highway, Honolulu, Hawaii 96817 in the cool heights of Nuuanu.

Mrs. Evangline Jamias Quisquirin

1948 was a tumultuous year for my parents. Uncle, Consul General Modesto R. Farolan was leaving Hawaii for his next government appointment. Mom just got married to Dad, in December 1948, and they were offered a new position at a new location. Their assignment, assist Vice Consul Anastacio Bartolome, his wife, their daughter and the rest of the Filipino community in Hilo.

Trying times, but the best of times for a young couple: More to come.

1st cousins: She's mine, don't even think about it...

I envy my young nephew and nieces–they grew up knowing exactly who they are and who they are related to. With an uncle, like me, they had no choice. My parents–their grandparents–came to this country, not as Sacadas (field laborers), but rather as consulate pioneers or diplomatic sojourners who later decided to stay. They grew up, amongst their first, second, third and even fourth degree cousins. I didn’t.

Perhaps, I am indicative of my generation. A lost soul torn between being American or being loyal to my parents’ beliefs; being independent yet sociable to things I care less about. But willing to try…to maintain the facade.

Quisquirin daughters

Quisquirin Cousins

Aloha Jimmy, Are you in this picture?