Punchline
Another five years, perhaps?
By Ermin Garcia Jr.
IT is with a deep sense of a pride and joy that we celebrate another milestone this month – The PUNCH’s 60 years of service to Pangasinan – with you, our loyal readers, advertisers and friends.
I never imagined nor believed even for a moment that The PUNCH would still be publishing by year 2000, not after my father, Ermin E. Garcia, was murdered in his office in 1966, after only 10 years of publication. To even think we could make it just for another five years after his death was simply surreal. It’s now 2016.
Shortly after his death, the family was told that the paper was deep in debt in printing costs and that was enough for my late mother, Paulita, to object initially to any talk of continuing The PUNCH. I was still in college. We had nothing to gain by continuing it, came the advice of family friends. I could be targeted as well by politicians just as they did to my father, also came the warning.
Fortunately, I was assured by Don Gonzalo Mendoza, owner of the then Mendoza Printing Press, that he won’t demand full payment to enable us to continue. Then, there was the kind and generous Don Rafael Gonzalez, owner of the Pantranco in 1950s-70s and grandfather of Kimi S. Cojuangco, whom my father considered as his second father and friend. He promised to take our family under his wings until I finished college in a year’s time. And there was my uncle Gerry (my dad’s younger brother, and the paper’s columnist at the time) who expressed willingness to be its editor until I was ready for it.
All told, these circumstances made it easy for me to decide to continue the paper for as long as it could. Another five years, perhaps? After all, I did ask those who came to mourn my father’s death – Let not his death be all in vain.
* * * *
STARTING ALL OVER. A day after college, I took the first Pantranco bus trip to Dagupan to meet with my uncle Gerry and the staff, to tell them I was ready to learn about the operations of the paper from them. The first order of the day was to ask my uncle, a gifted writer, to coach me in my writing because I was never prepared for it. My father had asked me to take any course except journalism or anything related to it so I ended up earning a degree in behavioral science. Also, as my mother belatedly told me, my father had told her to promise that if anything should happen to him, none of his children should take over and continue the paper. She broke that promise for me.
For months and years, Unc Gerry tirelessly edited my articles and column items, and returned these to me always riddled with corrections (that’s how editing was carried out in those days, remember nobody used computers then).
My business mentor and ‘adoptive elder brother’, the late Clemente Nava and friends at the Dagupan Rotary Club, took turns in teaching me the rudiments of running a business which started with understanding the operating principle of debit-credit! They even started advertising their own businesses to affirm their trust and support for The PUNCH. But still having learned what my father had to go through to keep ends meet for the paper, I was not sure I could hurdle the same obstacles.
Meanwhile, the editorial staff pounded the streets for wider reportorial coverage. Besides my Unc Gerry as editor, there were Bayardo E. Estrada as Executive Editor, Rodolfo T. Toledo as Associate Editor, Rodolfo L. Rivera as News Editor, Silver Sarmiento as LU Bureau Mgr. Pete Quimson, as production assistant, Rafael Moya, as photographer; columnists Marie A. Junio and Ling Liwanag, Our indefatigable Vicky Bauzon took care of the office.
We made it to the five-year finish line. Debts were paid, circulation had improved. But still the future was not certain. We prayed for five more years.
* * * *
RUDE INTERRUPTIONS. Then martial law was declared in 1972. Access to The PUNCH office was limited from Day One. Most we could do keep the public informed was to print ‘roneo’ copies of a 4-paged legal size paper inside the office and slipped through the military guards posted outside the door with aid of friends to distribute the copies. It was a matter of time before the PC provincial commander caught on and promptly ordered the paper closed. But martial law authorities at Camp Crame revoked it and authorized The PUNCH, the only paper in Pangasinan, to continue publishing. Soon the situation became untenable and I was forced to go on exile, out of Pangasinan. I had to slip in and out to oversee the continued publication. Nothing was certain for The PUNCH until each next issue. But as fate would it, The PUNCH survived the martial law.
When the earthquake struck Dagupan in 1990, I was out of town. So when the news about the extent of damage in the city came through, I thought I lost the office as well. It was not to be. The Duque-Tiongson Bldg was spared. In fact, it was one of the few in the area that was spared and left intact. (The Pangasinan Courier was not as lucky. It finally had to close shop). And when Dagupan was battered by series of super typhoons and floods, our contracted printing presses were always spared and enabled us to continue publishing our issues in the middle of calamities.
Our biggest fear happened for the first time in mid-70s. Since The PUNCH did not have a printing press of its own (and still does not have one to this day), affected political interests convinced our commercial printer to stop printing The PUNCH! It happened again in 2013. Fortunately, there was always a sympathetic printer ready to help out, and we continued to print without missing an issue to the chagrin of our detractors.
In fact, when the last attempt failed, the frustrated political interests attempted to discredit our reports by spreading a nasty rumor that The PUNCH was already owned by a politician. What hogwash but that offered some comic relief to us.
* * * *
ONLINE EDITION. When The PUNCH finally joined the cyber world in 1997, 41 years later, made possible by the vision of Wilson Chua, then a young entrepreneur who started Bitstop, the future for The PUNCH for another five years became more certain. After he described the technology and the benefits, our partnership started – at no costs to us!
The PUNCH Online (http://punch.dagupan.com) became a hit particularly among overseas kabaleyans. That led to the creation of our PUNCH Kabaleyan Club. It’s now 19 years old!
* * * *
ANNIVERSARY ISSUES. We can only look back to our 3,120 issues to reflect on what The PUNCH had accomplished in the past 60 years. So, join us in our flashback moments when we feature the 12 cover pages of The PUNCH’s anniversary issues each year since 1956 beginning this issue. These are our footprints in our long journey. (Only our 1966 file is missing in our library. It was submitted to the court as part of the evidence for the trial of Ermin E. Garcia murder case and the file was never returned).
In our July 10 issue, we invite you to read the roster of journalists and staff who were stakeholders in The PUNCH’s plight at one time in the past. They helped The PUNCH survive into what it is today. Some of these exceptional men and women have already joined their Creator while others have moved on to continue to make their own mark in our community media industry.
On behalf of The PUNCH’s family today (Editorial – Ding Micua, Eva Visperas, Johanne Macob, Dada Austria, Jess Garcia, Josie Garcia, Vir Biagtan; Overseas: Leonie Galvez, Ping Coquia; Production/Admin – Joy dela Cruz, Rod Ibasan, Rolly Dioquino; Columnists – Gonz Duque, Al Mendoza, Ulysses Butuyan, Antonio Villar Jr., Virginia Pasalo; Online Edition – Julie Ann Arrogante), our sincerest thanks to you, PUNCH reader, for keeping faith with us for the past 10-20-40-60 years!
We look forward to engaging you with more of our news stories and commentaries! For five years more, perhaps?
(For your comments and reactions, please email to: punch.sunday@gmail.com)
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