He was barely 12 years old when the war ended, and that was when the liberating US forces established a sawmill in their area in Tunnel, Central in Pandurucan. That hilly part near the bank of the historic Busuanga river was once camp of the 503rd Parachute Infantry Regiment.
The boy nicknamed by his close friends Oding worked as a mess hall apprentice whose primary duty is to open K-rations for the GIs. Before the war, his family lives in the main barrio of Central. His father is a medical technician assigned by the health department in its battle against the malaria epidemic in that area of the province.
He and his elder brother Addie befriended the soldiers as the GIs exposed them to different types of machinery, trucks, and tractors. The two young boys are errands to the mechanics and gradually learned how machines work. Rodrigo, “Igo” to his relatives and “Rudy” to his friends and comrades in the navy, learned about machines further from his uncle Jacinto Delos Santos, whom they call “Tata Cinto” of Barrio Iriron, Calitaan, brother of his mother and look-alike, Roberta.
Rodrigo S. Novio was born in Sta. Maria, Bulacan on December 11, 1933. Of Pantaleon S. Novio and Roberta’s children, only three, Pantaleon Jr. (Addie), Rodrigo, and Ligaya or Gay (now Jimenez) were born in Bulacan. The rest of the children were all born in Occidental Mindoro.
His joining the United States Navy (USN) in 1953 is just a product of peer pressure. He had two other friends who wished to enter the navy, and they tagged my Tito Igo along, our late Mamang, told me. She once relayed how much she prayed for his passing the requirements to become a navy serviceman.
The three friends went to Sangley Point in Cavite, the US naval force's recruitment center. He and his friends underwent all the recruiting processes and protocols and were later informed to wait for their applications. Instead of returning to San Jose, armed with great determination to be a successful child of the then-budding town of San Jose and in preparation for his enlistment in the navy, Rodrigo worked in a passenger lantsa taking the Batangas-Calapan route. After some months, the intense prayer of his mother paid off. Her second child Rodrigo became an enlisted sailor while his two friends did not receive any news from Sangley Point. Later he became one of the USN’s enginemen that year.
The memory of Tito Igo, while he was still in service, is still vivid in my recollection. I remember him clad in a fatigue uniform, alighting from his jeep, visiting his parents, and handing me chocolates and toys, for he is not only my uncle but also my ninong. My father filled in for Tito Igo in escorting his future wife Nenita Endencia when she was crowned beauty queen in their place in the late 50s.
After
twenty years of service and tours in Vietnam (I do not know how many, for I am
not privy to his stint in the navy), Tito Igo finally retired in 1973,
and many years have passed his parents died of natural death. Tito Igo loves playing
mahjong with Auntie Nita, his wife, his brother Baby (or Ottie), and
sister-in-law Nida. The game was their favorite pastime, usually during
weekends. Seeing them shuffling tiles at the terrace is a usual scenario to me.
He is also topnotch at table tennis during his days, and somebody told me that
he is one of the best in town. He was also into cooking, and my favorite is his
carbonara.
Tito Igo loved to visit his relatives and friends, especially his parents. Even when he was already a retiree and staying here in San Jose, he regularly visits his aging and already ailing parents at the family’s ancestral house at 132 Capt. Cooper Street and giving them what they need, from food to medicines and little somethings. I was a witness to how grateful he was for his parents. That is the most significant attribute I have learned and copied from him. This characteristic is what I think we should emulate from our dear departed Tito, Papa, and Daddy, or Lolo Igo. I will never forget him because of this.
Rodrigo
S. Novio, Sr., at 87, breathed his last at the ER of Goco-Luna Hospital in
Calapan, Oriental Mindoro, on September 3, 2021. After just hours have passed,
he was put to rest at around 2:00 in the morning of the following day at the
San Jose Public Cemetery, observing protocols imposed by the local government
on the occurring pandemic surge. No one was there except for his eldest child,
who accompanied him in the last hours of his life, and some men excavated it.
His remains encased in silence and darkness of the dawn.
No sounding of taps.
No
gun salutes.
No
folding and presentation of the flag.
No
ceremonies or whatsoever.
I could only do the same respects during deep, prayerful hours of remembering him.
------
(Photo courtesy of Yvonne Novio)
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