“I’ll only overcome this tragedy when I die myself.” – Ben Pedrero
Four months after she lost her husband and home to supertyphoon Yolanda’s fury, Agnes Bacsal gave birth to their sixth child — a sprightly boy, whose presence has eased the family’s pain.
Other survivors, like fisherman Ben Pedrero, still struggle. His wife and son perished in the monster storm and more than 40 other relatives are still missing.
“In just a blink of an eye, they were all gone,” the 61-year-old Pedrero said. “I’ll only overcome this tragedy when I die myself,” he added, wiping tears with his shirt as he helped relatives roast a pig and prepare food for the disaster’s anniversary yesterday.
As church bells pealed and sirens wailed across Tacloban City to commemorate the moment when Yolanda barreled inland from the Pacific, Bacsal and Pedrero lit candles and offered prayers at separate mass graves in the city.
Palo Archbishop John Du led prayers at a site where close to 2,300 people are buried. Some lit candles and wrote names of their family members on newly-placed white crosses at the vast field on the outskirts of the city. At a city hall commemoration, 1,000 white balloons were released to signify acceptance of the human loss.
By the time the typhoon had leveled entire villages with ferocious winds and tsunami-like waves, more than 7,300 were dead or missing. Funeral parlors were overwhelmed, forcing survivors to bury their dead near where they were found — on church grounds, roadsides, beaches and in front yards and backyards.
The worst-hit Tacloban and outlying regions have crawled back from the rubble. Shopping malls, hotels and offices have reopened, with cars, taxi cabs and motorcycles clogging downtown streets — the same spots where huge mounds of debris and bodies lay scattered weeks after Yolanda blew away. Yet, human scars are harder to overcome.
The 21-foot-high waves also took away Pedrero’s house with all its precious belongings — his family’s pictures and personal mementos. Also gone was his fishing boat, his only source of income.
Like him, Bacsal still relies on dole-outs mostly from relatives and friends. Without her husband, tricycle driver Jonathan, and her house, she now lives with her six children in a shack built from storm debris.
DAD IS WATCHING OVER. Jonathan Bacsal Jr., runs past a cross with the name of his father, Jonathan Bacsal Sr., whose remains were among those buried at a mass grave for supertyphoon Yolanda victims in the outskirts of Tacloban City in Leyte. His father perished after being hit by a flying piece of tin roof while trying to herd them to safety as the Nov. 8, 2013 storm leveled entire villages in Tacloban. (AP Photo/Bullit Marquez)
Amid continuing adversity, Bacsal’s family is being held together by faith — an altar with rosaries and the images of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary adorn a wall — and a bubbly, new family member, 7-month-old baby John William. His cries filled the bare shack.
“He gives me joy, just by being beside me,” Bacsal said, cradling her baby.
A 14-year-old daughter, Maria Jean, beamed with optimism. “I’ll be the best businesswoman in Asia and bring them out of here someday,” she said when asked about her plans.
With help from relatives and friends, Bacsal was able to send Maria Jean to high school. They scrimp on grocery items recently donated by a city official and were able to sell extra food stuff to neighbors in an improvised store. They sometimes miss out on meals.
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