My secret identity by ryan bartlett
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Coming to see and to hold in great respect St. On the celebration of the Feast nine months after the Sendong tragedy, a Muslim crowd strangely gathered at the yard of the St. After the tragedy wiped out over a thousand lives with hundreds missing, what positive thing can one say?Īs I hit the keys on my keyboard today, Iligan is celebrating the Feast of Saint Michael.
#MY SECRET IDENTITY BY RYAN BARTLETT WINDOWS#
A neighbor trapped inside his own house and escaped through the ceiling because the brute force of the flood held back all doors and windows shut. A friend living along a creek heard a rolling flood reverberated a sinister noise of a living creature. A mother and her daughter hung on to anything that was floating on the debris-filled flood and then found out at daybreak they had been holding on the whole night to a dead body. The atmosphere was thick with grim stories. From her ankles, she felt the water rising up to her knees, then up to her waist, right before she reached the elevated highway where she deeply breathed a sigh of relief. She kept up in screaming constantly in order not to lose them rushing through the pitch-dark night. Running the sloping up road herself while carrying her baby, she kept shouting to her kids running ahead of her. Alarmed, woke her kids up and told them to run and go the distance to the elevated highway. Hearing rocks hitting her roofs (concerned citizens waking their neighbors), she got off the bed and felt her foot submerged in water. Though unprepared, like all the folks in her neighborhood, Analiza, remembered what Raymond had tipped her off in case of a sudden downpour: get out of the place and seek higher ground. Since the storm hit the middle of the night and affected an unprepared population that had no flood warning system in place, the death toll was tragically high. Since the rains fell on regions where the natural forest had been illegally logged or converted to pineapple plantations, the heavy rains were able to run off quickly on the relatively barren soils and created devastating flash floods. Minutes later, he called back, his voice cracking, and narrated about the dead bodies that piled up on both sides of the highway. I called up Dan, my officemate, who lived near the party venue, and told him to cancel our reservation. He said he could not get out of his house located alongside the river that had overflowed and flooded his house first floor. Manny, our bank manager, called up and told me to cancel our reservation at Dad's Grill for our Christmas party that night.
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The phone rang it was past six in the morning. Felt safe, since our house sat on higher ground, we just slept the whole night away. Driving home, I looked at the Tubod bridge and spotted the water level as not yet alarming. He asked me to fetch him because he was anxious about the rain getting stronger each minute. The phone rang it was our son calling from Jollibee - two rides from our house. Everything seemed normal except this unusual event: drizzling outside, all of a sudden, our curtains rose horizontally due to a sudden strong rush of wind – too odd a sight amid the calm outside. On the night the tragedy struck, I had dinner with my wife and daughter. I told Analiza to be on alert in case of a sudden downpour. The site's low elevation and its topsoil that appeared to be a backfill drew my attention as a civil engineer. Months before such tragedy, we drove to Orchids subdivision in Iligan and dropped by the newly-built house of Analiza, my wife's officemate.
#MY SECRET IDENTITY BY RYAN BARTLETT TORRENT#
But, those who had been traumatized by the Sendong tragedy would even more so exude heavy-hearted feelings - each time a torrent of rain comes. The needless routine engendered a light-hearted feeling on the kids affected by the downpour. Everyone smiled after they learned that not a single drop of water had leaked from the repaired roof. All at once, the kids scrambled for containers, like pails or empty cans, and put them right on the spots where drops of water would fall from the leaking roof above when it rained. In one instance, heavy rain suddenly poured. In our work with the poor in Couples for Christ, we repaired roofs by sealing small holes and replacing damaged sheets. To commemorate the 10 th anniversary of the Sendong tragedy, I had lined up this article to come out in December, until I read a singer who has released her new Christmas song as early as September with this reason that I adopted: Why not?