June 26, 1998. It was a day that I remember very well. He asked me the week previous to grab coffee
at a neighborhood eatery during one of his many visits to the island for a
respite from the fast paced life he was living in Fairfax, Virginia. The visits were therapy for a man who had traveled
the world many times over and at this particular time, his visits to Guam were to see his grandchildren far removed-five time zones to be exact-and to be with his
siblings and other close relatives and friends. This
was an invitation that I was not used to. But it was the start of what would be
over the next 15 years a series of fascinating reunions and talks that would
remind me of my heritage and our collective love of our island paradise of
Guam.
We started this
particular talk with the usual,
"Hafa Adai". This time the talk followed with no explanation of the possible origin of
the expression. If I wasn't listening to
the previous lectures on the traditional Chamorro greeting by the then 69-year
old survivor of World War II occupied Guam, I may have been witness to yet
another installment of the history of our island from his perspective. Not this time.
The two of us grabbed our coffee and sat in the corner of this particular Harmon establishment. He told me that he wanted to give me something. From a paper lined bag, he brandished a gold
covered book. The cover prominently
featured his portrait, the flags representative of our identities as Americans
and Native Chamorro and two island landmarks- Two Lovers Point and
"Pleasure Island".
"Thank
you", he remarked. His voice, reminiscent of the famed actor Sean Connery, was upbeat. I remember how
puzzled I was with the statement at the time. He asked me to open the book to page 131. The
storyteller revealed to me that it was our relationship that inspired him to
write this particular portion of the book and that it was his way of expressing
how very proud he was of me and my accomplishments to that date.
It reads:
"...in
historical times, there has always been an element of diversity on Guam. During the Spanish Era, Spaniards and
Filipinos settled here. But there was also a contingent of Carolinians, and the
name, Tamuning, is a vestige of their presence.
In 1940, the population included 39 Japanese, two Chinese, 13 Spaniards,
two Germans, 32 Filipinos, and 73 non-military American residents. Among them, they had more than 600 children who were part Chamorro, judged
along genetic lines. For the Chamorro
people, however, those children were fully Chamorro. This blending with and
acceptance of other people is reflected in names that are common today on Guam:
Antonio Yamashita, Brian Gumataotao, Jose O'Brian, Manuel Chang, Gordon
Garrido, and George Scharf, among many others."
"You are the
Brian Gumataotao," the author remarked. "If I would have placed your name,
people would have asked why you and not others whom I had known for the nearly
seven decades of my life."
I was honored for the reference and his explanation. We talked further about
my wife and children. He asked me how
life at home was and our kindred spirits spent what seemed like days talking
about the similarities between my kids and his grandchildren whom he
adored. Just before we parted ways, he
grabbed the book back and made an inscription. He then shook my hand, gave me a hug and
with a smile said, "...good-bye."
We would repeat this many times over the next decade and a half.
I write this as I got
word just hours before this blog post that this great island leader and
decorated war veteran passed away. Initially, I was saddened. But, the news reminded me of his stories and
his writings-that gold covered book sitting to the right of my computer.
A T.S. Elliott quote,
used in the introduction to one of his books, sums up my memory of Ben Blaz:
"We shall not
cease from exploration
And the end of all
our exploring
Will be to arrive
where we started
And know the place
for the first time."
Thanks General for
your friendship and may the angels lead you into that special place in the sun.