Japanese Occupation Money

I found some samples of some Filipino Japanese Occupation Money in an antique store. It's interesting how the style mimics the US Dollar of the times. After the Japanese took over the Philippines in 1941, they brought hundreds of propaganda experts to "asianize" the population through theater, movies, radio and newspapers. The picture on the right hand side of the note is of the monument to Jose Rizal, a Pinoy patriot. The idea was that the Filipinos would reject western influence and embrace "The Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere." In other words, the United States of Japan, which included every Asian country from China in the north to Indonesia in the south, and ALL of the countries in between.

As inflation grew worse during the war years, the Japanese simply printed more money when they needed it. It became utterly worthless, yet they forced it on the populance. The Filipinos refered to these banknotes as "Mickey Mouse Money."

Easter in Manila 2014

Just a nice picture of my mother-in-law, taken by my nephew, Kong. She in her late 80s and as beautiful as ever. Some of you may already know that she was my inspiration for Imang in The Yellow Bar. We don't have any pictures of her as a child in WW2, but you can click here to see her as a young lady.

Sites in the Book: The Manila Cathedral

"Manila Cathedral was gone. There was nothing but a few columns and a huge pile of rubble left."

Click to see larger image.

The current Cathedral, in the old walled Spanish quarter of Intramuros, is in its 8th reincarnation. The church has a long, sad history of being destroyed by fire and earthquakes since it was first built as a bamboo and wood structure in 1571 by Padre Juan de Vivero. The 7th version, which you see in the left photo was completed in 1879.

During the war years, the gardens around the church were dug up to make air-raid shelters. In February 1945, while the Battle of Manila was raging, the Japanese rounded up a group of eighty men ( including 37 Spanish priests) and crammed them into one of the shelters. Then they were buried alive with large stones and gasoline barrels full of earth. The Japanese amused themselves by shooting or tossing hand-grenades into any air-holes they found. Only a hand-full of these men managed to dig their way out, four days later, and survive. One can only imagine the horror they lived through.

Today, the Cathedral is remains the main seat of The Roman Catholic Church in the Philippines. However, the Cathedral is now closed to the public as it is undergoing extensive earthquake strengthening renovation. Hopefully it will reopen sometime in 2014.

Sites in the Book: Fort Santiago

"By late morning he still hadn't shown up. This was not him, something was wrong."

Fort Santiago is one of the best maintained parks in Manila- and so it should be. The city started here, possibly dating all the way to prehistoric times, on the banks of the Pasig River. When the Spanish first arrived in the 1500s, the site was the wooden fort of Rajah Sulaiman at the mouth of the Pasig River. Much like their Conquistador brothers in South America, they made war on the natives, destroyed the fort, and started building their own triangular stone bastion in the 1590s. It would later grow and merge into the original Spanish city of Intramuros.

So much history has happened within its stone walls: Pirates, plagues and foreign invasions. It was the starting point of the Manila Galleon trade. It was a prison and a military barracks. Philippine National Hero, Jose Rizal, was imprisoned here before his execution. 

In 1941, Fort Santiago was the headquarters for the US Army. After the fall of Manila and the occupation by the Japanese, the fort became a dreadful prison and intelligence center, where hundreds (possibly thousands) of Filipinos were sent for interrogation and detention in to the medieval dungeons below. During the war years, the mere mention of of being sent there was enough to make a suspected Allied collaborator wet his pants: the stories of sadistic torture, amputation, starvation and other brutal conditions were all true.

After its liberation during the Battle of Manila in 1945, the bodies of over 600 Filipinos civilians were found crammed on top of each other in the small stone dungeons, locked behind thick wooden, iron-framed doors. It was determined that they had either died of starvation and/or suffocation. Another horrible war crime that adds to the ghosts that must surely walk the grounds of Fort Santiago. God bless them.

Nephew Kong touches history.

Yet today, a typical unaware tourist would never suspect its bloody history. The Fort is now a national park and has been well renovated in recent years. The grounds have been landscaped into gardens; you will see Pinoy families having picnics there. The stone walls have (mostly) been repaired. Happy, plastic statues of historic figures (including American General MacArthur) recline in realistic poses on benches and light poles. A few of the former military barracks remain on the sides as picturesque ruins, with authentic World War Two bullet holes still in their walls. There is even a welcome center. 

But for those of you who want to feel Fort Santiago’s history, take my little tip: Walk all the way to the back, to the river’s edge. The stones get mossier and more broken. The vegetation gets wilder on the edge of the timeless Pasig River. You will see stone steps that lead into the dungeons. You won’t be able to go inside. You don’t need to. Just stand by the entrance silently and feel the humid heat and smell coming from below. There is nothing Disney-like about this experience- it is funky. It is 1590s, 1690s, 1790s, 1890s...

Now imagine spending an hour in that dungeon. A day. A week. A lifetime. Did a shiver just go up your spine? Good. Now you understand what history really is.

Click on photos to see larger size.

A short 1930s film: Manila, Queen of the Pacific

Old American Manila, Philippines. Most notable are the neat clothes that everyone was wearing. (Get a load of those ladies wearing Ternos!) Also, views of old neighborhoods and buildings that no longer exist due to being destroyed in World War Two.

Sites in the Book: San Augustin Church

"You don't happen to know Ave Maria, do you?" 

Click photo to see large version.

If walls could talk, then I would press my ear against the San Augustin Church. It is one of Manila's oldest structures, and still stands relatively intact since it was built in 1586. With its history, this is nothing short of a miracle. 

Take a look at the photo on the left. See the little red circle? What you see is the only building left standing in the destroyed walled-city of Intramuros: San Augustin. All the other buildings (including the Manila Cathedral and 5 other churches) were pulverized into dust during the Battle of Manila. 

But that's just part of the story. The site was consecrated as a house of worship in the 1570s. This was the time of Spanish conquistadors, whom strutted around wearing iron armor in the tropical heat. Manila wasn't much more than a wooden fort on the bay, and most of the invaders spent their time searching for gold, or converting the native Filipinos into Catholicism. Business was good; they decided to stay. Entombed in the church are some of the city's founders: Miguel López de Legazpi, Juan de Salcedo and Martín de Goiti. They lie here still in Baroque splendor.

 

San Augustin has witnessed and survived Chinese pirates, looting by the British in 1762, earthquakes, floods, riots, fires, assorted plagues, and the Spanish-American War in 1898. (The peace treaty was signed here.) But its real trial-by-fire came during World War Two.

18 February 1945: Most of the Japanese Army has retreated into the walled-city. They are surrounded by the American Army, whose high powered shells are ripping into Intramuros. Homes, schools, hospitals- everything is exploding and crumbling to dust. The Japanese are killing any civilian they see: men, women, children, infants. Not satisfied, they enter churches and hospitals, massacring everyone in sight. They come to San Augustin Church, where many people have taken refuge, and round up some 125 men, including 37 priests. They are marched a few blocks to the front of Manila Cathedral. There, they are forced into underground air-raid bunkers and buried alive. Only six would survive.

Somehow, (by God or Good Luck) San Augustin remained standing. Even the magnificent trompe l’oeil has ceiling survived. The church still functions today, and is the place to go for a big, fat, Filipino wedding. If you’re ever in Manila, come take a look at this jewel of a Baroque church and the adjacent museum. And remember, you are on sacred ground.

B/W photos courtesy of John T. Pilot.

The Yellow Bar is based on a true story

The Yellow Bar is a work of fiction, but the main story line is based upon true stories my father in-law, Felipe Reynaldo, told me in the 1980s about how he and his family survived World War 2.

Here's the true part:

Felipe's family had the biggest house in Culi-Culi due to the successful notions and home goods store that they had. During the World War Two occupation, the Reynaldo's were kicked out of their home and forced to become servants in their own house for the Japanese pilots. As the war years went on, these pilots would become kamakazi. Felipe (Pepot) was just a child at the time. He told me how the pilots lived, celebrated, and ultimately went to their deaths.

After the horrific Battle of Manila and the return of the Americans, a relative began selling homemade booze (lombanog) to the American GIs and the Yellow Bar was born. The bar ended up being the most popular bar for visiting servicemen in Manila for over 30 years. (The stories he told me about the Americans at the Yellow Bar after the war could make up of book of its own, and may be my sequal one day.) By the time I met and married my wife, Leonor, in the 1980s, the Yellow Bar was long closed and had been converted into the local wet market, but it's art deco entrance still remained– loose chickens, cats and dogs dodged in and out its door. It was intriguing. It deserved a story.

I decided to approach the novel though 10 year old Pepot's eyes- a simple story of how a family survives World War Two. Although it is set in 1940s Philippines, I didn't want it to be an exotic travelog about the wonders of that island nation. (Let a future James Michener write that.) No, it needed to be easy to relate to. Therefore you will find very few Tagalog words and references to quaint social customs, such as balut. The Reynaldo's story could have happened anywhere, to any family.

On Writing Your First Novel: Part 2

So how did I write The Yellow Bar?

Just like everybody else– I sat down and stared anxiously at a blank screen for a few hours. Had a beer. Put it off until the next day. The next week. The next few years...

Until I had a great opening line: “I was sitting naked on my carabao.” That got me started.

I think the hardest thing for any would-be author is the commitment you have to make. After a few hours of writing, you realize that your novel isn’t going to write itself and you are not Lois Lane. It takes a lot of brain power, a lot of hours, and a lot of false starts.

I outlined the plot with pencil and paper. This was mentioned in part one. Although I didn’t know exactly where I was going in the writing process, I had a general idea of the beginning, the middle and the end.

Get into the mood. Writing a novel involves a lot of day dreaming. If the idea for your book is strong, the dreaming will come naturally. I started to envision my characters as real people. (What would Pinky do?) However, I must warn you that if you day dream in public, and stare into space like I do, people will think you’re on drugs or about to go postal.

I made a place and a schedule to write in. I work hard as a teacher. Sometimes those kids knock the stuffings out of me. I would use this as a excuse not to write. What I did was put it into my daily activity. Instead of going directly home from work, I would stop at an obscure, quiet coffee shop next to a supermarket. Something clicked, because page after page started to flow for that magic hour or two of caffeine bliss. It became something to look forward to at the end of my day.

I made myself comfortable. The Yellow Bar started on my desktop. It felt like an office assignment. My laptop was long gone. All I had was an iPad, so that’s what I used for most of the original writing in the book. I can’t recommend this to perfectionists (or touch typists) because the virtual keys can be a bitch sometimes. However, it flowed for me. What I learned to ignore all the typos and type, type, type away. It was an easy matter to transfer to my desktop and correct later.

I didn't read any popular novels during this time. I was afraid of being intimidated, or worse– copying someone else's technique. I DID read Mark Twain stories. His stuff seemed safe enough since it's 150 years old.

The book I referred to the most: The Elements of Style by Strunk and White. I'm an English teacher and even I get confused with grammar rules at times. It is the author's Bible and best friend. I highly recommend all first time authors keep this small book at hand, at all times.

Music helps. I found an obscure radio channel on-line that specializes in 1940s swing tunes. (AddictedToRadio.com: Big Band Cantina) It gave me a great feel for the era that I was writing in. I also listened to just about everything: from Classical Mozart to Eminem hip hop. Again, music helps you get into the mood.

Be prepared to be lonely. I cannot write with other people interrupting or looking over my shoulder. Hence the coffee shop. I also occasionally lied to friends about not joining them on the weekends, so I could keep on writing. Most of them have forgiven me by now.

Ignore your deadline. I originally thought I’d have The Yellow Bar done in six months. Ha! It took me a year and a half. Again, schedule your writing times, not your ending.

Enjoy it, and ignore your page count. I started The Yellow Bar as a scared, trembling, little flower. At about page 50, I knew I had something. By page 100 I was so excited that page 200 flew by without me knowing it. Let the story come out the way it should; don’t force it, don’t time it, don’t count it. It’ll work.

NEXT: In Part 3 You will learn about all the stupid mistakes I made PLUS the long and strange road called the editing process.

Another Yellow Bar Review

Excuse me for tooting my own horn, but I got another review of The Yellow Bar from a nice lady named Cindy. Thank you, kind stranger!

The Yellow Bar/John Falch A+. Finding out about this book was a fluke. I was perusing Facebook and saw a post from Tim Hallinan urging readers to read about a new author he found and I was hooked. The book was a $2.99 find for the kindle and worth every penny and more. It's a saga-like story set at the brink of World War II in a small village of Culi-Culi near Manila in the Philippines. The story is told from three points of view, mostly that of little Pepot Reynoldo, the youngest boy in the family; an American 'lavender' (gay) hotel manager, Eric Lawson and little orphan girl name Imang who was rounded up by the Japanese military once the war had started to work in a sweat shop in Manila. Most of the story is about the far reaching Reynaldo family which includes Pinky Del Rosario, a torch singer and her husband Romeo. They live and work in Manila, where her sister's family is on the farm in Culi-Culi. The story is about the creativity, bravery, resourcefulness, family love and respect that get them through the hard times ahead until the island of Luzon is liberated by the Americans.
Most likely this will be one of my top ten reads of the year.

On Writing Your First Novel: Part 1

Since publishing The Yellow Bar, several people have asked how I did it. I will start with the complete interview I did with author Timothy Hallinan last month. This is Part 1, which I call Inspiration. In the following segments (to be written) I will tell you about My Writing Process, and How I Published My Book. And finally, The Cruel World of Self Promotion. I do not claim to be an expert on any of these subjects, however, I'm sure you can learn a few things by reading about what I did right, and the stuff I did so totally wrong. Hopefully, it will inspire you to finally write YOUR first book. (Because it's there inside you and it needs to come out.)

And now, on to Tim's interview:

How would you describe The Yellow Bar in, say, 100 words or less?

You can read the standard promo on Amazon, so let me be a little abstract. It’s about some nice people, the Reynaldo family, who live in 1940s Philippines. Their sweet rural life goes to hell when they are caught between two warring giants, America and Japan. It starts with the Japanese invasion and ends with the destruction of Manila. It’s about: Love. Family. God. War. Luck. Survival. The Reynaldos teach us how to make lemonade when life throws lemons at you. (And when it’s time to throw those damned lemons back, so hard that it knocks teeth out.) Fate comes in two parts; what life gives you and what you make of it. The Yellow Bar is also a reminder that we all belong to the same family of man, and that hating and killing our different brothers are the stupidest things we can ever do.

The Yellow Bar is such an accomplished book that it's hard to believe it's your first.  What other writing have you done?

I am ashamed to say that most of my writing in the past consisted of developing course books for English language learners and the occasional rant to the local newspaper. (I did spend 15 years as a local “shock jock” on the radio, which to me is a sort of improvisational writing.) These are about the only things you’ll see from me in print. However, I always knew I had a novel in me. One day The Yellow Bar just popped out. 

What first inspired you to write the novel?  What was the first idea that grasped your attention? 

I lived in Manila in the mid 1980s. Some of the happiest times of my life were when I just sat around and talked to family and neighbors. Filipinos like to talk, boast, gossip, and most of all, weave a good story. So do I, so we all got along just fine. Back then, there were still many older people who had lived under the Japanese occupation and the battle of Manila. They told me stories (always with a smile and maybe a tear) of how they survived the war. Hair-raising tales like: How the Japanese Bayonetted My Baby, or, What Auntie Alice Did When a Hand Grenade Came Through the Kitchen Window. It was amazing how they told these stories without a trace of bitterness. This is because they believe in God and forgiveness. This is because they are Filipino.

My father in-law, Felipe (Pepot) had the best stories of all. He was a short, jolly man and he also had the voice of a foghorn. He was loud. When he was speaking English he liked to punctuate with invectives that he had learned from the GIs in the Yellow Bar:

“... and when the bombs started falling, GODDAMIT it was hell!...”

The Japanese Kamikazes had lived in their house during the occupation. As a child servant in his own home, Pepot saw how how these pilots lived and how they prepared to die. He told me how the family had saved themselves at the end of the war by selling homemade liquor to the American GIs. From him I learned that my mother in-law, Maxima (Imang) had been forced to work in Japanese parachute factory as a child slave laborer. I remember thinking that someone should write a book or make a film about these stories.

Fast forward to 2010. After a long absence, I attended a family reunion in Manila. Most of the immediate family now live in different parts of the world. While we were there, I realized this incredible family history was fading away, that the stories would soon be forgotten. No, that couldn’t be allowed to happen. I started writing the book on my third day in Manila. It took me a year and a half.

Did the scope of the story give you anxious moments?  If so, how did you deal with the anxiety?

First I had to make a choice. True story or a work of fiction? I chose fiction for several reasons, the main one being that it gave me artistic license to change a few things. Secondly, by making it fiction, I wouldn’t accidently offend a family member. (Remember, they have butterfly knives there!) Other than Pepot and Imang, I made sure not to use any other relative’s name. Besides, if this was going to be a war novel, then somebody was going to die!

Call me a pacifist or call me a sissy, I didn’t relish killing anyone. I avoided choosing who for as long as I could. This was a mistake because the longer I worked on the book, the more real the characters became to me. Who wants to kill off good friends?

Another problem reared its head when I was about a third of the way into the book. The Tagalog words. At first they had seemed quaint and exotic and I used them liberally, but then they started to get in the way, making the Reynaldos seem a bit removed from you and me. That was the last thing I wanted, so Kuya Dading became Uncle Dading, etc. Rewrite and rewrite again.

The biggest bump in the road was that The Yellow Bar is an historical novel. I got anal retentive about the war facts being absolutely correct. It meant some serious research, which slowed down the writing of the story. I wasted days just searching for how parachutes were made in Manila. (Hint: Google. Buried very, very deep in cyberspace.) I read diaries and army reports. I nailed a 1935 map of Manila up over my computer. Slowly I became an expert on World War Two Philippines and the Battle of Manila. I had to. My next novel will not be historical.

Did you plot the book in advance or find your way through as you wrote it?

Yes, I did an outline with pencil and paper. It had three columns: Before the War, the Occupation, and MacArthur Returns. I placed “events” inside them, hoping to link it all up. But not everything was plotted in advance, some of it just came out of nowhere. For example, Eric Lawson, the gay hotel manager, was originally going to be a cameo, an inside joke based on a friend of mine. Well damn, he kept popping up and making himself useful. Imelda the smutty maid also just fell from the sky.

The book goes back and forth among first- and third-person viewpoints: little Pepot, a boy of ten when the story opens; then to an omniscient third to describe historical events, and much closer third-person narratives centered on Pepot's Aunt Pinky; Eric Lawson, and the eight-year old orphan girl, Imang, who goes through hell and grew up to be your mother in-law,  When did you decide to use multiple viewpoints?  What were the benefits and challenges (if there were any)?

Yes, the story bounces around several narratives, which is exactly what I didn’t want to do. It can be dangerous. I first started the novel with Pepot’s voice alone and almost immediately ran into problems when I wanted to create the background of the main characters and the history of colonial Manila. I didn’t want to say, “My Auntie did this... My Mother told me that...” It was a waste of words and conflicted with the flow of the story. Also, Pepot’s narrative wouldn’t allow me to go into important detail of the war itself. Who was Pepot, a genius boy scholar? My secret solution was to go into other viewpoints but (in my head, at least) they would really come from Pepot himself. You see, Pepot, my late father in-law, passed away in 1993. As far as I’m concerned, he is now omniscient and knows everything. By doing this, I feel the novel keeps the same language, the same nuance and style. I do not recommend multiple narratives to other authors, but if you have to, here is my cheat: Limit the first person narrative to one character only and make the other viewpoints as unobtrusive as possible.

By the way, my next book will be totally in the third person. Lightening doesn’t strike twice.

How did you feel when you'd finished the first draft? 

I was pretty satisfied. It had a strong beginning, middle and end. I put it away for a week and then reread it. There were some problems. Some things had been written twice. Some of my characters didn’t have clear definition or motivation. Some had too much. So I rewrote. I sent the draft to a friend of mine, Sue Bonnington, a senior editor for the Jakarta Globe newspaper. She found my biggest sin- I am a “drama comma queen.” I love commas, semi colons and long dashes. I use them whenever possible, way too much. (Sue says it’s because I write like I talk.) The second draft was about getting rid of unnecessary punctation marks. I’m sure there are still 100 more I could erase, but I won’t because I love them.

It was also during the first draft that I was advised cut out the prologue: Lola Suzy Tells You the History of the Philippines. To make the book start faster. Ouch. It just killed me to edit out 5 pages of stuff I thought was good, but yeah, doing so did give The Yellow Bar a quicker start. Tell you what- any one who gives me five stars on Amazon will get the prologue free of charge! Ha ha!

What do you hope readers take away from the book?

Well, I hope they were entertained. I hope they learned a few things. There is no hidden message in this story which is obviously against war. Perhaps one thing we should remember is that no matter what part of the planet you’re from, we humans have so many small, silly things in common. For example, I am from the American south and Filipinos share many of our southern traits: We drink, we over-eat, take afternoon naps, and leave the Christmas decorations hanging up until February. What is there to hate?

All comments and questions welcome.

Sites in the Book: The Santa Ana Cabaret

"Santa Ana was where people went to sin..."

It's funny the things one can find when researching for an historical novel. As I searched long and lonely nights on the internet for information about World War Two Manila, I landed at the Santa Ana Cabaret. Yes, it really existed and had a long life in pre-war and post-war Manila. Its owner was John Canson and he advertised his place as the largest cabaret in the world. I don't know if that's true or not, but from the photo below you can see that it was huge. Mr. Canson also had a long and storied history; he was a real gypsy who had a life full of big ups and downs. Bar owner, entrepreneur, POW at Santo Tomas and more. He was an impressive man and deserves a book of his own.  In The Yellow Bar, I gave him a cameo role as the buddy of Eric Lawson while they were interned in the Santo Tomas. (I felt is was the least I could do. Stories like his should not be forgotten.)

There are many conflicting stories about the original Santa Ana: Some say it was nothing but a whore house, others say it was a classy place for a date. (I think it was a mixture of both.) Things I do know: He started the cabaret way back in 1914. The Santa Ana survived the Battle of Manila, probably because it was on the outskirts of town. Mr. Canson re-opened it after the war, and the club stayed intact until a typhoon finally knocked it down in 1970. Wow, that was a long run!

Sites in the Book: Dewey Boulevard

In 1912, a monumental thoroughfare was built...

In the early part of the 20th century, the Americanization of Manila began in earnest. One of the grand plans that came to fruit was Dewey Boulevard, named after Spanish American war hero, Admiral George Dewey. Its original concept came from architect Daniel Burnham, the man responsible for much of the new spatial planning for the cities of Manila, and Baguio City up north. Mr. Burnham was an early proponent of "the City Beautiful" movement which advocated building beautiful cities along scientific lines. One could say that with Dewey Blvd. that he succeeded. The 1930s postcard you see can give you an idea: a sweeping double lane thoroughfare runs along the shore of Manila Bay. Mango and coconut trees were installed to offer shade and protection from the sea. (If you squint your eyes, you can see some beach at the far end.) A favorite thing to do in those days was to cross over to the park, walk its broad sidewalks, fish or swim, and watch the famous sunset over the Bay. It was beautiful and useful, just like Mr. Burnham wanted.

Just before the Battle of Manila in 1945, large sections of Dewey Boulevard were blocked off with barbed wire and heavily guarded, so that it could be used as an emergency aircraft landing field. This would severely hamper escape from Manila by its residents.

Flash forward to the 21st century. Dewey Boulevard is still there, however in the 1960s it was renamed Roxas Blvd. in honor of President Manuel Roxas, the 5th president of the Philippines. That's not the only thing that's changed; since the war there have have been many land reclamation projects that continue up to this day. Large parts of the boulevard are no longer on the Bay. I have mixed feelings about this, because a lot of the beauty has left. However, Manila is on its way to becoming a "super city" and the needs of its citizens come first. Dewey/Roxas doesn't look that special any more. (However, it's still one of the easiest and fastest roads to navigate in Metro Manila.) If you have the time, park your car (I recommend near Malate Church) and carefully cross over the boulevard to Manila Bay. If a breeze is blowing and the air is clear, it can still be a pleasant sight.

August 2012

Ever so often a person gets lucky and runs into someone who helps you a lot and expects nothing in return. It's called the kindness of strangers. My kind stranger (whom I hope to keep as a friend) is the famous and talented Mr  Timothy Hallinan, author of the famous Poke Rafferty thriller series. He read The Yellow Bar, reviewed it on Amazon, and then asked me to do an interview about it. You can read it here. But more importantly, he has been helping me, a first time author, learn the ropes on about how to promote one's books. Tim, you are an angel. Now everyone go and buy his latest novel, The Fear Artist, available in both print and eBook on Amazon. For your convenience, just click the photo on the right side of the page.

Other news: The Yellow Bar is now available as an eBook on Apple iBooks, and the Barnes and Noble store.

The real Pepot as a young man

Yes, there really was a Yellow Bar! This is a photo of the Reynaldo men and staff in the real Yellow Bar. It was taken around 1955 during one of the many fiestas that occur so regularly in the Philippines. The war years were behind them and the family was prospering once more. My father-in-law, Felipe Reynaldo is in the first row, fourth from the left. His childhood nickname was Pepot and he is the inspiration for the Pepot in The Yellow Bar. Unfortunately, no childhood pictures exist of him.

(Click on the photo to see the larger image.)

Pepot married a beautiful woman named Imang. They had five children together: one boy and four daughters. I married one of the daughters.

The real Yellow Bar did well for the Reynaldo family. It continued to operate until the mid 1970s. As the story goes, that the family was concerned about the bad influence the bar might have on their children and they closed it down.

July 2012

It's been an exciting month. After a lonely year and a half of writing, I published "The Yellow Bar" for the first time on Amazon Kindle on July 7. Since then, I've sold about one book a day. This is to be expected, as I have done hardly any marketing for the Yellow Bar, save for my family and friends. It's like I've thrown a tiny grain of sand upon a sand castle. How to get this book noticed? I plan to whip up this blog into something interesting (the Pacific War in the Philippines) and perhaps some essays on being a writer. I would really like to link up with other writers, especially ones in the Filipino community. (Send me a message if you're interested.)

I will avoid is spamming everyone, although my primitive ego wants to do just that.

Also I am happy to announce that The Yellow Bar was published on Smashwords a few days ago. If all goes well, The Yellow Bar will soon be sold on Barnes & Noble, Apple Books and other outlets in the next few weeks.

Memorare Manila

In the heart of old city of Manila, Intramuros, you will find this memorial to Manila's World War Two civilian war dead. It's quite a contrast to the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, with its stately placed rows of white crosses and manicured lawns.

The Memorare Memorial was only unveiled in 1995, some 40 years after the war. It was created by artist sculptor Peter Guzman. It is an emotional tableaux you will see-  a modern-day pieta actually. I have been there several times. It sits in a small, quiet garden. Some days there are small bouquets of flowers placed lovingly on the figures by people unknown.

These are the photos I took during my last trip to Manila in December 2012. Read it and weep.

Click to see larger image.

Sites In The Book: Manila Central Post Office

"Little puffs of smoke danced on the neoclassical facade."

One of the most beautiful buildings that survived World War Two is the Manila Central Post Office. Built in the 1920s by Juan M. Arellano, the building resembles the grand post offices found in Chicago and New York. This is not an accident, as the Americans wanted Manila to reflect their own image. 

The photo you see here was taken just after the battle and it was basically just a burnt out shell, but was still standing. Amazingly, other government buildings still stood after the battle. The reason for this is because they were built with the strongest materials available, to be earthquake proof. (Reinforced concrete is as hard as stone.) This would prove to be a big problem for the American GIs when they were trying to flush out the Japanese fighters hidden inside.

Soon after the war, the Post Office was restored and up until this posting in 2012, still goes about the daily routine of delivering the mail. Recently however, there has been talk of converting this icon into a 5 star hotel. I do not like this idea because it would limit access to the public. Only the elite would be able to walk its halls. A cultural icon such this deserves better treatment. If the Manila Central Post Office is now redundant, wouldn't it make better sense to convert it into a museum? Perhaps a museum dedicated to the Battle of Manila?