Jolly, 54

By Al S. Mendoza

IN THIS COUNTRY, people you know die senselessly during the election fever.

It hurts every time it happens.

It pinches your heart, it angers you no end.

It’s a sad fact that we can’t seem to avoid-this killing in the name of the ballot.

Why it happens, Americans laugh at us.

“It’s only an election, and you kill for it?”

Really, we want to serve the people and we kill just so we could achieve that wish?

Ironic?

Public life-that is, serving the people-is so demanding a job that Americans wonder why we die for it.

Are we martyrs?  Or there’s more to a political life in this country than meets the eye?

The truth is, we are a race so enamored with politics that we die for it or use it to camouflage the evil of murdering someone.

One such case is Julian “Jolly” Resuello.

Jolly died on April 30 after he was shot on April 28 at the plaza-auditorium in San Carlos City.

He was the mayor of San Carlos City.  He was 54, very healthy when assassins snuffed out his life.

I’ve known him for 22 years.

I first met Jolly in 1985, in a bar in Caloocan. Boni Sison, a distinguished lawyer, introduced me to him.  Immediately, we hit it right off.

 Jolly was basically a quiet fellow. Soft-spoken. In gatherings, you’d hardly hear him speak. 

I never imagined him becoming mayor.  How could he when he seemed very   reserved?  Politicians are supposed to be articulate, if not talkative.

In short, he wasn’t your typical politician. Yet, he became one. And a damn, good one.

“I became a politician almost byforce,” Jolly once told me.

He said that when he was a kid, he saw his city dying slowly from decay and from utter neglect of politicians.

He grew up in the market (batang palengke), and he saw corruption first-hand happening right before his eyes.

As a teenager, the whisper of change knocked in his heart. Heeding his heart’s call, he almost lost his life trying to fight the establishment.

Left for dead at the city market by goons sent to maul him to death, Jolly survived the attack.  When he regained consciousness in the hospital, his face-almost rearranged beyond recognition-was wrapped in bandages.  He looked like a mummy.

That’s when he resolved to run for city mayor when the time comes.

He pursued his dream by putting up his own oxygen-tank business. Because its   growth   was phenomenal-he had a business acumen molded by street-smart philosophy-the business would soon propel Jolly to political heights.

And then this, his senseless murder.

He was smiling from ear to ear, shaking hands with his people, before he was gunned down.

A life has been taken away from us. It was a life worth preserving, protecting. It was a life taken against our will.

May God grant calm on the wounded hearts of Jolly’s loved ones.

May God give Jolly’s soul eternal peace.

(For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/general-admission/)

Share your Comments or Reactions

comments

Powered by Facebook Comments