An aborted heroism
There was a 1970 movie set in World War II, the title of which probably applies to the life of the late Ronda vice mayor Jonnah John Ungab, if chilling information I got is true. He could have been a real life personification of “Too Late, a Hero” starring Cliff Robertson. He was undoubtedly going to be a hero had not the assassins’ bullets felled him. I have to maintain Ungab’s timing was neither slow nor late. His legal training prevailed upon him to be certain that in building his case, his evidence could survive the most unforgiving faultfinders. It just happened that the mastermind behind the triggerman was a little faster, perhaps a few days ahead.
What information did I hear from a “reliable source?” To be sure, my informant was not unequivocal. He made seemingly disparate statements punctuated with “can you believe that?” to emphasize he was sharing raw and unverified facts. I understood his apprehension. The information so terribly bothered his conscience he had to unload it. His survival instinct constrained him not to make it appear he was telling me facts in order to evade the wrath of the mastermind.
No matter how adroit my questioning was, I did not get details and specifics from my source. What little I gathered also sowed unimaginable fear in me. It indicated that Ungab, by reason of his profession, could connect the dots in the illegal drug trade if he wanted to and unmask the topmost personality in the business. Unfortunately, he knew too much and his lips had to be sealed forever.
The day I took my oath as a lawyer (April 19, 1978), I promised myself to work until 50. When I was an active trial practitioner, I also gathered sensitive information enough for me to quiver. To minimize risk, I had to make sure concerned individuals didn’t know I possessed vital knowledge that would pose unacceptable danger to them and push them to eliminate me. Somehow I stayed out of their radar. I thought I knew too much about many criminals until my reliable source told me that information. What I knew was apparently just peanuts compared to the cache of data Ungab controlled.
My source figured out those in the highest echelons of the drug trade got uncomfortable Ungab came to know many things about their business. While the core of the narcotics trade was done in violation of laws, these drug lords had to have organizational structures with legal frame work and methods of laundering funds. Perforce, they needed Ungab’s advice.
Later, they could have sensed Ungab was patriotic. Along the course of their unusual relations, they probably noticed he was more inclined to doing a noble service to his country and be true to his oath as an Officer of the court. They could not anymore trust that the cloak of confidentiality between lawyers and clients would prevent him from revealing what he knew. The stakes were just too high.
I had to conclude that based what I learned, Ungab’s murder was to come. It just came before the lawyer in him could have done what he might have planned. The assassin’s bullets aborted his heroism.