EVERYONE has a pretty clear idea of who he was, what he did, the people he worked with, his personal causes, his businesses and such when you ask the question “Who was Dante Ang?”
Dante was a spin doctor, political strategist and advisor, mentor, educator, philanthropist, businessman, diplomat, a son, eldest brother, a husband, a father, and much more.
To me he was simply Papa, or sometimes, Pops.
Pops was patient, until he wasn’t. Throughout my schooling, he always exerted a lot of effort to encourage me to do better, while staying patient. He was pretty generous with his praises, joking and teasing when I would finally receive some academic award or recognition (which were few and far between), saying that I should hand it over to him before the school realizes that they might have made a mistake and ask for it back.
At times, following these good academic moments, I would slack off, and then his patience would wane. He would sit me down and sternly talk to me about my future. After this, he would tell me, “Sige na, magpahinga ka na, anak,” and usually, either shortly after or by the next day or two, he would hand me cash or take me out to eat or take me shopping. This was his way to show that he was never mad or angry, but just concerned and was trying to say things for guidance as any father would.
Pops had his routine when he would visit us in Houston. Most people know that he would read everything, newspapers, books, magazines and journals. Pops had a different routine with me that was integrated into his usual daily process. After we went to the grocery or bookstore or convenience store, once we got home, he would separate the classified ads (and the Greensheet, a free tabloid for buying and selling), circle very specific ads and hand them over to me. The ads he marked were always ads for the sale of two things: dogs and cars. Once I had the marked pages from him, my task was to call the number, ask if the dogs or cars were still available, ask for the address, then drive with him to see the dogs and cars. In the later years, house cats were added to the mix. There are two specific stories I will never forget.
First, he found an ad for the sale of Old English Mastiff puppies. After going through my part of the process, I drove us near the Galveston Island area to see the puppies. As Pops and I were pulling up to the breeder’s farm, we saw some horses on the property, and running with horses were what looked like slightly small “ponies.” These “ponies” changed direction to head toward our car as we entered the property, and it turned out that these “ponies” were some of the adult Old English Mastiffs! When I parked the car in front of the breeder’s house, I asked Pops, “Is this breed aggressive?” Replying confidently, he chuckled and said, “No, anak, they’re just intimidating due to their massive size.” As the biggest one, a brindle male, jogged over to Pops’ side of the car, literally looking down at him (we were driving a sedan), he said, “Anak, honk your horn and let’s wait for the owners to come out!” He said this sheepishly, with a goofy smile on his face.
Several years later, Pops wanted to check out some house cats that were for sale. Again going through the process, we drove to the other side of town to see the cats. Upon arriving, we saw at least 10 beautiful cats outside of the house, so we figured we were at the right place. When we entered the house, we saw at least 20 cats that were more beautiful! Then, the owner said that the cats she was advertising were show cats. She told us that as she and her husband were getting older, they wanted to retire from show cat competition and start selling their cats. The owner then guided us to the back part of the house, where she modified their garage to serve as a special room for their show cats. The owner was not exaggerating, as those show cats were gorgeous! Then, she took out Hobbs to show us. Hobbs was a light cream-colored Persian Himalayan, and he was beautiful and super friendly! Pops was admiring Hobbs, scratching his ear, stroking his fur, and Hobbs was loving the attention. While I walked over to the other cat cages, it happened. I heard Pops call to me. As I was approaching, he said, “Umutot, ang baho (he farted, it stinks!)!” Then Hobbs, as if on cue, turned his backside to Pops and ripped another one directly at him! Pops cursed in Tagalog, then said, “Umutot na naman, ang baho talaga!” I said, “I think he likes you!” Long story short, somehow, Hobbs came home with us.
Dante Ang had his image that he maintained for everyone. To me, Pops was the man I looked at dogs and cats with. He was the man I drove to look at different cars just for the pure interest in the unique aspects of the cars that made them special for him. He was the man, and only person in our family, who took an interest in my affinity for spiders. Even going so far as to look for an opponent in the Bayan in Las Piñas to go up against mine. He was the man who would show me how tough he was by eating a hot chili (sili labuyo) and not making a face or drinking water after popping it in his mouth. He was the man who bought me my first aquarium for Christmas, and took such an interest in the different fish I was putting in and breeding. He was the man who took me for my first banana split when I was a young child. And he was the man who took an interest in my dating life.
As I came into adolescence and young adulthood, Pops seemed to have the funniest interactions and experiences with the women I dated.
When I was in college, I dated a Vietnamese girl I was classmates with in high school in Houston. It was around Christmastime and Pops was in Houston, spending the holidays with us. Pops woke up in the morning, walked to the dining for his morning coffee and would sit at the table to read his newspaper. For several mornings in a row, Pops was not the first person at the dining table to have coffee and read the paper (I think he was expecting to be first to get up due to his jet lag). Each morning, my ex would already be at our house to hang out and have coffee, and read the paper while waiting for me. My ex would greet Pops, “Good morning Mr. Ang, would you like a cup of coffee?” Eventually, I think after the third or fourth day of this happening, he told our Mom, “Jessie, ano ba naman ‘yan, kakagising ko pa lang at hindi pa ako na kaka pag suklay, tapos andito na agad ang girlfriend ni Sandy (referring to me by my nickname).” He said this, according to our Mom, with a goofy smile on his face.
A second incident happened when I had already transferred to St. Mary’s University in San Antonio. Again I was home in Houston for the spring break holidays with my new girlfriend. We had a modest three-bedroom house with a good sized front and back yard in Sharpstown, in the southwest suburb of Houston. Our backyard was not small, and was all grass. Pops, while sitting at our dining table, having his coffee and reading the paper, was greeted cheerily by my ex (a pretty tall, Caucasian girl), walking through the house to go out to the backyard, in her bikini. This happened for about three or four mornings in a row. After the second day, he got up, walked over to our Mom who was in the kitchen, and asked, “Jessie, eto bang bahay na binili natin may swimming pool? Or nagpalagay ba tayo?” My Mom laughed, and said, “Wala, mag sunbathing lang sa likod ‘yang girlfriend ng anak mo. Haay may pinagmanahan talaga!” Later, as I was walking to check on my ex, Pops gave me this look, slightly shaking his head while making a tsking sound, having the same goofy smile on his face.
The last incident was with my wife, when we had just started dating. Jazzie, my wife, and I grew up together in BF Resort Village in Las Piñas City. Our family’s homes were literally across the street from one another, and we had been friends since we were very young children. It was a couple of months after I finally came home from Texas, and I had just asked my future mother-in-law for permission to date Jazzie. Luckily for me, my future mother-in-law approved. Later that week, as I was still in Manila from Hong Kong, where Pops assigned me, we (Pops and I) were leaving the house in BF Resort to drive to work. His driver Rex was driving, Pops was sitting in the front next to him, and I was sitting in the back. Now, Pops’ routine when he gets in the car is to turn on the radio to listen to an AM station for the news, and at the same time, read his newspapers on the drive to work. This particular morning, as we were backing out of the garage, he turned on the radio but after about five seconds he turned it off. Then he turned to me and asked, “Anak, nag de-date ba kayo ni Jazzie?” I replied “opo.” He said “OK,” then he turned on the radio again. After another 10 seconds or so, he turned it off and again turned to me and said, “Anak, iba magmahal ang Filipina.” To this I responded, “Opo, Papa.” Then he said, “Alam ba nang magulang niya?” I said yes. And he replied, “Good.” To add some context, my wife Jazzie is the only Filipina I ever dated, and of course, my parents knew this, and perhaps were finally relieved.
All of us, his children, his friends, his family, have our respective special memories of Dante Ang. To me, I will always remember and cherish all of the funny, goofy moments with Pops. I love you Pops, rest assured that you guided us properly, and we will all be OK.
