It helped that there were only five of us in her class, and only I went on to become a journalist. It helped also that Bibsy, who shuttled between a magazine (Saturday Mirror) and television (ABC 5), had the connections to place us—as apprentices, later as contributing writers, and me as a feature writer in the newspaper staff. She made me apprentice in television (she said TV was the way to go) on the award-winning The Big News . Its news director, Tony Tecson, sent me out with the crew, initially to help the cameraman lug his stuff, then to jot down notes for the reporter, and finally to answer whatever questions on the coverage he would ask (what camera did the competition ABS- CBN bring, with sound?). Thus did I get my first rush of adrenalin just by being right smack in the center of the action—the execution on the electric chair of the Maggie de la Riva rapists (all right, I was in the newsroom as they viewed and edited the reel, not in the execution), or finding myself in the TV booth with the direc- tor Lupita Concio (now Kashiwahara), as a gofer, as then Sen. Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. was top-naked and changing into his shirt for his TV show. It was Bibsy who pushed me. Bibsy the free spirit. Bibsy the generous mentor. Bibsy the eternal optimist who believed that a writer should also discover the tantalizing power of photographs and thus put us under the (unwilling) tutelage of foremost photojournalist Romy Vitug. From Bibsy I learned to take advantage of opportunities, any opportunity, because journalism is all about the scoop. There was also the unintended benefit of spending long hours away from home, and beyond the reach of your Mom and Dad (yey!) .
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