In the Face of Fire

We’re past Fire Prevention Month, which is March. And so the recent spate of fires that hit various areas in the city may be taken by some to mean that fires are no longer preventable outside of March. But such thinking is sheer humor, of course.

I had a personal experience with fire. Many years ago, the University of the Visayas was almost reduced to rubble and ashes by a raging inferno that struck nearby Sanciangko Street, close to the campus. Memory of that horrible incident would not leave my mind.

The fire started at 11 p.m. I rushed to the University upon hearing the wail of the fire trucks’ siren. When I got there, the nearby buildings were already ablaze. The flames on the neighboring rooftops were like tongues licking their favorite sweets in frenzied delight.

The heat from the fire was so much, you could probably have cooked an egg just by holding it in your hand while standing in the building overlooking the burning area.

I immediately instructed the campus security force and the evacuation team to be ready. I also told our own firefighting team to train their hoses on our buildings, to prevent the fire from crossing to our side of the street.

Unfortunately, I was told that key pieces of our firefighting equipment had broken down just two days earlier and had not yet been repaired.

With the stamina that one normally gets from an adrenalin rush, I dashed to the water well within the campus, feeling I could fight off the blaze with the little water I could carry in small pails. Even water from the school’s urinals seemed helpful to save UV.

Everybody was frantically moving about, doing anything possible to spare the University from imminent destruction. The presence of Teodulo Cantillas, our electrician, and his assistant Exequiel Tangpuz; Maying Pastor, My favorite Physics teacher, and several faculty members who were living in the area really boosted my flagging spirits.

Atty. Demetrio Cortes Sr., then mayor of Mandaue City, also came. We were good friends and called each other “amo,” meaning “boss.” His presence was all the more reassuring for me.

Towards dawn, I went up to the second floor of our building facing the fire scene. I wanted to see for myself how close the blaze had come. The fire had turned towards UV!

Mayor Cortes called me to come down at once. He must have sensed real danger.

All along we were praying for UV to be spared. We never lost hope. We had the feeling of certainty that our prayers would be heard and answered.

Just in the nick of time, the firefighters were able to contain the blaze. Although we were so close, we emerged safe and sound from one of the biggest disasters ever to hit the city.

I went home at about 9 in the morning and reported the situation to Mama Pining. We didn’t want to stress her while the fire was still raging. To my amazement, Mama was calm.

She asked me to join her in prayer, to give thanks to God. “Ayaw kalimot, Dodong, nga ang tanan hinatag sa Ginoo,” Mama said, “ug Siya ra usab ang makabawi.” Indeed, as God gives, God may also take away.