MANY readers of Peoples Journal might think Dennis Fetalino – the associate editor of this paper – still lives today even though he already passed away in June this year.

This is because his name still appears at the editorial box of the daily until now. I think it would remain there for a year before being removed permanently.

The practice is common among newspapers. It’s a gesture of high respect for a departed editor and recognition for his valuable achievements .

Recently, I was asked by our publication to write a tribute for Dennis. A tribute is an act, statement, or gift intended to show gratitude, respect, or admiration.

As his younger brother, I have so much affection for Dennis. I dearly miss him that I haven’t fully recovered from his passing up to this day. As a partner in the industry, I idolize him. He’s my barometer for excellence in writing and journalism.

But other people who know Dennis have beautiful things to say about him. I’d like to share the thoughts of prolific writer Denn Meneses — a veteran public relations professional who now works for a powerful senator– about my brother.

She sent the special piece during the celebration of Dennis’ life at the National Press Club. The occasion was attended by his friends from the media industry and colleagues from the highly regarded university paper DAWN.

Ms. Meneses wrote:

“DENNIS F.

He was one of the true intellectuals the DAWN has ever produced.

His writing style was rare for a newsman and the depth of his vocabulary spoke volumes of his love for the craft.

Gonza (Raul S. Gonzales, former press secretary of President Diosdado Macapagal and DAWN adviser) , our revered mentor, saw that early on, and perhaps that was why F became one of his favorite Dawners.

He carried his brilliance with quiet aplomb even as his mind was dripping with convictions that would put to shame not a few pseudo philosophers.

He did have a certain swagger, though, when he was channeling Elvis. And his humor flowed freely like the omnipresent bubbly.

He was not merely PEDXing his way to journalistic immortality by clinging on to what was de rigueur among his peers. He looked to the left, right, behind and forward while recognizing opposite directions and respecting contrary opinions.

We did share a few personal convictions. Unpopular ones. The kind that halted friendships without notice. But he said, just plod on. Don’t mind the naysayers. Wise counsel from a younger contemplative thinker. Tolerant. Non-judgemental.

Thank you for the friendship, F. May your journey towards the Main be as glorious and breezy as the spirit of lightness that moved us, one way or another.

Your biting pen will be sorely missed.”

While it’s true that siblings grow up together, it doesn’t necessarily mean they spent most of the time together. There is one person who probably had more time than me with Dennis and that is his bestfriend Conrado ‘Ding’ Generoso.

Generoso, the former spokesman of President Rodrigo Duterte’s constitution drafting committee and a longtime federalism advocate, was with Dennis since childhood to adulthood. They were together in gradeschool, highschool and college.

They didn’t separate even when they already had their respective families. They continued doing their favorite past time – drinking booze and debate.

And so it’s interesting to know what Ding had to say about his buddy.

Here’s what Generoso wrote:

“So long, Dennis. Thank you for being my friend, brother, beer buddy, intellectual soulmate, and comrade in pen.

He will be missed by so many of us that got left behind. He was a witness to our lives. Not many of those left.

You know they say we die twice — once when the last breath leaves our body, and once when the last person we know says our name.”

The three of us first met in the third grade at the University of the East — Jay (Pernes), Dennis (Fetalino) and myself. We were playmates before classmates. Jay and Dennis were in the morning section, I was in the afternoon; but we shared a classroom, and between shifts, we found 30 minutes or so to play.

Ogie (Jimenez) and George (Abordo) completed our “gang of five” in third year high school. That long our lives have been and have remained intertwined.

And then there were two …

Jay was first to leave in 2013, on the eve of the May election that would have made him congressman from Siquijor. George passed in the middle of the pandemic in September 2020. Morning of June first, minutes after what turned out to be our last conversation over messenger, Dennis tilted the balance in favor of the departed.

So there’s one less person on this earth who knows our name, who remembers our childhood, who shared in each moment as it passed.”

Easy it is not to compress into a few words those moments and memories of 53 years, an entire lifetime shared in play and school; in childhood and teen adventures and misadventures, hopes and dreams; in missions big and small; in battle lines drawn and causes fought for; in victories and in defeats, in laughter and in tears, in endless discourses on any and all matters under the sun, over countless bottles of beer; in moments of silence.

As in the old song “Seasons in the Sun” … Dennis and I have known each other since we were nine or ten; “Together, we’ve climbed hills and trees; Learned of love and ABCs; Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.”

Dennis is one friend that, once you have, you couldn’t ask for more. Because Dennis is the definition of friend.

We shared a passion for the written word, which is why we were in the fifth grade when we first took the reportorial exam for the Dawn, UE’s college student newspaper. We laughed when we didn’t find our names on the list of those who passed; went home to their apartment in Cordillera (Quezon City) and had a chat with comedian Bentot who was their next-door neighbor, and asked the guard at the Serg’s chocolate factory almost across the apartment for a bar of sample chocolate.

But the dream didn’t stop there. We tried again when we were in high school—and finally made it. And that’s how we came to share the trade and the craft of writing.

We also shared a passion for good books and good movies, and collecting dialogs and quotes, scribbled in notebooks or odd sheets of paper, phrases that often we shared in our drinking sessions, or sometimes found their way in pieces we wrote.

I’ve always admired Dennis’s prose, which was why many times I’ve told him: “Alam mo Dennis, mas magaling kang magsulat sa akin. Pero mas magaling akong mag-edit sa ‘yo.” Dentally challenged as he was, you’ll find “dental fortitude” in what he wrote. Sa Tagalog, may ngipin ang mga parirala.

We both vied for honors each school year (along with Jay, George and Ogie), but we only competed against everybody else, never against each other. On the contrary, we helped each other — do our homework, review for exams, and fulfill all other school requirements.

Even in our childhood and teen years, Dennis was a gentle soul who couldn’t hurt a fly, even though we used to tease him that no fly would be able to extricate itself once it lands on his greased ala Elvis hair.

He is not one to react seriously or violently when he is made the topic of conversation or the butt of jokes in our drinking sessions. He’d just retort: “Why am I here?” Words that prompted me on one or two occasions to remark: “Alam mo Dennis, kung sakali man na mauna ka sa akin at I have to deliver a eulogy for you, you just gave me the opening line — ‘Why am I here, inside this one by two by seven box you call a casket? I should be out there with you drowning the world’s sorrows in bottles of beer.'”

His humility is admirable. Very very seldom would you hear him talk about himself or what he has done or fulfilled. He would almost always defer to you and humble himself. “Eh, bahala ka na dyan. Forte mo yan. Basta dito lang ako. Holler if you need anything.”

Dennis is a friend you can’t say “no” to — especially when he tells you, “O, mamaya, kita tayo. Painom ka naman. Alam mo na kung saan.” It’s neither a request nor a command, simply a string of words delivered with perfect force to make you say yes, ‘coz even if you replied, “tingnan ko,” he won’t insist and just say, “e bahala ka, basta andito ako.”

He is not wont to debate or argue; but he can surprise you with punch lines or questions that you didn’t expect.

He lived a simple life — disliked almost anything grandiose — and found great joy in life’s simple pleasures. You’d often hear him say, “the best things in life are free” or “why raise a cow when you can get the milk for free.”

Minimalism was one of his guiding principles, which is why his life was a life of freedom.

There were four things that gave Dennis the pleasures of life: pen and paper, music (and by music, it’s gotta be rock ‘n roll, Elvis in particular), the company of friends, and a bottle of beer in hand.

He always saw what was beautiful in life, and so he lived a beautiful life, unburdened by the world’s ills and troubles.

With his final breath, I can imagine what must have been in his mind — a line from one of our favorite books, The Godfather, that goes:

“Yet, he thought, if I can die saying, “Life is so beautiful,” then nothing else is important. If i can believe in myself that much, nothing else matters.”

Here then, my friend, is our last toast — to you and a life you lived so beautifully!”

True enough, it’s difficult to summarize all the wonders that Dennis made. Maybe only the likes of Ms. Meneses and Ding –who like Dennis belong to the classic, vintage, and exemplary class of pen pushers – can do the trick.

Nevertheless, allow me to share my take on Dennis by posting the eulogy I delivered during his super flower-adorned wake attended by our clan members and friends:

“Magandang gabi po sa inyong lahat. Ako po ay lubos na nagpapasalamat sa inyong pagdalaw sa aking minamahal na kapatid.

Ako nga po pala si Mario Fetalino Jr. – the BROTHER OF DENNIS. Binigyan diin ko po ang brother of Dennis kasi laging gayan ang pakilala sa akin.

Sa mga pagtitipon, ang introduction po sa akin ay brother of Dennis. Sa inuman, ang pakilala po sa akin sa mga lasing ay ‘kapatid ni Dennis’ ‘yan. At kahit yung mga mismo na nakakakilala sa aking ng lubos, ang tawag sa akin ‘utol ni Dennis’.

Minsan naiisip ko kung bakit ganun. May sarili naman akong identity. At saka, mas pogi naman ako sa kanya. .[Marami ang nagtaasan ng kilay]

Don’t get me wrong. Hindi ako nasasaktan sa mga ganitong sitwasyon.Nagtataka lang ako kung bakit ganun? Kung mas pogi ako, bakit mas sikat siya? ‘Yan ang malaking katanungan na ating aalamin ngayon. Para lang investigative report.

Bago nga pala ang lahat, ikwento ko lang ang mga kaganapan bago yumao ang aking kapatid. Kabilang ako sa maraming nagulat sa kanyang pagpanaw.

Sinisiguro ko na wala kayong dahilan upang maawa kay Dennis. Mabilis ang kanyang pagkamatay at walang panahon para siya ay maghirap.

Wednesday last week (May 28) nang tumawag sa akin ang butihing asawa ni Dennis na si Juliet upang ipaalam na nagpunta sila sa ospital for a check up after he complained of back pains and LBM. There was nothing alarming because I thought it was just a regular checkup.

Since Dennis started having his dialysis sessions seven years ago, lagi naman siyang nagpapacheck up and he would always go home in good condition. So I wasn’t really worried about Juliet’s call. Besides, when I asked her how’s Dennis, Juliet said he’s okay.

But at around 3 am the following day (May 29 Thursday), I just got home and about to sleep when Tita Cel, wife of Tito Boy [Formilleza] , the leader of the clan, called my wife and asked if I could join them to visit Dennis.

Tinawagan pala ni Juliet sila Tita Cel and Tito Boy so the two could speak to Dennis who wanted to go home instead of staying at the hospital. At that time, Dennis was for confinement but had to stay sa ER because there was no available room. Dennis was getting persistent.

At any rate, alam ko that Tita Cel and Tito Boy are having problems driving at night so even though exhausted from work, I drove for them from Las Pinas to De Lasalle Hopsital in Dasmarinas, Cavite. Besides, naisip ko na doing so would enable me to visit my brother.

We reached the hospital in just an hour. When I got beside Dennis, Tulog siya pero hirap huminga. Honestly, I got scared when I saw him because it’s the first time I saw him that way. So I held his hands and massaged his head to let him know that I was there.

Somehow, I felt compelled to make him feel the presence of a family member, the presence of his little brother. Gusto kong malaman at maramdaman niya ‘yun at that very moment.

And so, gusto ng mga doktor na i-intubate si Dennis para lumuwag ang kanyang paghinga. After that, an operation for angio plasty would follow. I heard those scary medical terms before and I’m sure Dennis wouldn’t like them to be performed on him.

Besides, his very frail body would give up if those invasive procedures would be implemented. I know my brother very well — ayaw niyang matusok…gusto niya siya ang tumutusok… dahil ayaw niyang masaktan. [May ilang hagikhikan]

So I told the doctor if there’s any option and there was one. They could simply continue the medication. However, I was told about the high possibility of a cardiac arrest that could happen anytime.

Interestingly, we were given until 7am to decide whether or not to allow the intubation and angioplasty. Juliet signed the waiver rejecting the procedures minutes before the deadline.

I received reports that Dennis or his spirit went to the US recently. Akala ko nag concert tour (Mahilig tumugtog kasi si Dennis).

Yun pala may dinalaw na kaibigan niya nuong college days niya. This special friend wrote me and Jena a day after Dennis passed away.

She wrote:

‘Hi Jena and Toto [my nickname], I am grieving with you all from a distance.

I wanted to share with you that Dennis visited me twice last night and today was like spending a day with him, or perhaps spending the day with me at work.

He made me laugh. He played music for me through my car radio. Imagine a radio that has a mind of its own. That’s how it was today. One of the songs he played, “I’m walking on Sunshine.”

He will always be part of me and I’m sure his reunion with Mama and Papa are joyful and reassuring. Just like what parents do.

His pains are gone and we’ll see them again. May God bless you and your families and give you comfort at all times.

Love, hugs,and prayers for you all!

Miss you deeply.’

Kapatid, even in your death, you still amaze me. Go and be happy. I love you and I’ll miss you always.”

As a very humble guy, Dennis would never imagine he was a big name in the field of writing. But I totally agree with people saying my brother truly rocks.

AUTHOR PROFILE

Mario Fetalino Jr.