After the liberation of Lipa on June 18, 1897, Fidel A. Reyes along with his other young friends in Lipa founded the Club Democratico Independista or Club Independiente. An article, “Teachers and Journalists: Six young men who ran a nationalistic tabloid between gabfests, lesson plans, German beer” shared the details of this joyous period:
“In Lipa, Batangas, six young men, four of whom were barely out of their teens, and two not yet out of their twenties, got together, formed the Club Independiente which not alone ran a school, held regular gabfests, spurred the nationalistic movement with their various activities, but also published a newspaper, tabloid size, now eight-paged, now four, depending on the amount of news that filtered to them from neighboring towns and the ideas that they themselves could germinate.”
“In Lipa, Batangas, six young men, four of whom were barely out of their teens, and two not yet out of their twenties, got together, formed the Club Independiente which not alone ran a school, held regular gabfests, spurred the nationalistic movement with their various activities, but also published a newspaper, tabloid size, now eight-paged, now four, depending on the amount of news that filtered to them from neighboring towns and the ideas that they themselves could germinate.”
The Columnas Volantes de la Federacion Malaya (Loose-leaves of the Malayan Federation) featured political articles as well as original works of literature and poetry. Published in both Spanish and Tagalog, it carried news features from correspondents all over the Luzon region. Fidel was a core reporter and had a regular section, "Actualidades" (Current Events) which ran critical commentaries. He wrote under pen names Negro (Black) and Fin de Siecle (End of the Century). In Teodoro M. Kalaw’s book Aide-de-Camp to Freedom, he described Fidel during this time as “stimulating, sensitive, and subtle”.
Fidel worked with Editor Gregorio Aguilera Solis and other great Lipeño staff members such as Baldomero Roxas, Petronio Katigbak, Tomas Umali and Albino Dimayuga. The article “Teachers and Journalists” gave more details on the publication and its dynamic staff.
“The Columnas Volantes came out once a week, was sold at a nominal price, ran advertisements which included those of established firms in Manila and printed no less than a thousand copies each time, sometimes much more. Everything about the whole set-up was elastic, including the income which the six derived from the paper. This was usually zero, but now and then there would be enough for a round of German beer and some food ordered from outside, and served at the Club Independiente, where they gathered daily with their friends to talk about the events of the day, or make lesson plans. It was the six who also ran the school of the Club, which gave out Liberal Arts degrees and had students coming from as far as the city of Manila itself.”
“The Columnas Volantes came out once a week, was sold at a nominal price, ran advertisements which included those of established firms in Manila and printed no less than a thousand copies each time, sometimes much more. Everything about the whole set-up was elastic, including the income which the six derived from the paper. This was usually zero, but now and then there would be enough for a round of German beer and some food ordered from outside, and served at the Club Independiente, where they gathered daily with their friends to talk about the events of the day, or make lesson plans. It was the six who also ran the school of the Club, which gave out Liberal Arts degrees and had students coming from as far as the city of Manila itself.”
The school they established in Lipa was named Instituto Rizal and offered excellent programs and professors. Fidel became a World History professor at the school and worked alongside other intellectuals educated in universities in Manila and Spain. Talented students attended the school including Teodoro M. Kalaw who proudly remembers the period as one of the most vibrant in Lipa in his book Aide-de-Camp to Freedom:
“The days were filled with seemingly endless activities. No week passed without some important visitor coming to town. With reason was it said that Lipa was another Athens where the select and the illustrious in culture and arts met."
“The days were filled with seemingly endless activities. No week passed without some important visitor coming to town. With reason was it said that Lipa was another Athens where the select and the illustrious in culture and arts met."
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| Teachers and Students of Instituto Rizal (Fidel A. Reyes seated in second row, fifth from left, his brother Carmelo seated in first row, fifth from left). |
Inspired by the post-liberation renaissance in Lipa, I was excited at the opportunity to contribute in my own way after the EDSA 2 Revolution. I approached like-minded students who had been working on different advocacies through our university. Many were just as concerned and fed up as I was and wanted to take things a step further by becoming actively involved in the community. I was already well into my senior year when I decided to join a student organization, something I had not considered previously because of my misplaced priorities.
There was one organization doing incredible work helping abandoned and abused children in the city. It was quite a heavy cause for a beginner but I thought if I wanted to do something impactful that was definitely it. Among the group's activities was helping an understaffed orphanage that needed volunteers to come in on a weekly basis to help in the toddler room. It sounded easy enough except I had no experience caring for babies or toddlers and to be honest, did not have an ounce of maternal instinct. Newborns and infants found in extreme cases of neglect were sent to this particular orphanage. Most of the toddlers were found as babies in the worst conditions, some were abandoned and left to die in dumpsters. Because of this, several suffered developmental delays and were in poor health.
Intimidating as it was, I signed up and committed to spend a few hours each week at the orphanage. On my first visit, the immediate reaction of the toddlers was so overwhelming as they clung to me, as it seemed, for dear life. They held on tight and at times would be aggressive towards each other when they felt threatened.
There was a little boy whom I was drawn to from the very beginning who could not walk or talk. Like most toddlers in the orphanage he was sickly, clingy and would constantly fight off other children. My visits became less about volunteering for a cause and more about the reality of that little boy. Each week I would be there carrying him, wiping his runny nose, and watching him sneeze on my favorite shirts. But it was all okay. In the end, I owed that little boy so much more than what I had given him. Without a doubt, the whole experience made me understand the kind of suffering and misery I was fighting against and what constant dedication it would take to make things better.
For Fidel A. Reyes and his friends in Lipa, the struggle for justice and freedom would continue after the United States occupied the Philippines. On January 13, 1900 when American forces took control of their town, they had only enjoyed its independence from Spain for two and a half years. After a period of fear and uncertainty, Fidel returned to Manila to continue his studies in Pharmacy at the University of Sto. Tomas and as a student, joined the staff of revolutionary newspapers El Nacionalismo and La Independencia.
He made his way back to Lipa after passing the Pharmacy board exam and opened a pharmacy, the Botica y Perfumeria – Sociedad Anonima o en Comandita on the ground floor of his family home. Later on, he opened a pharmacy on Calle Real, which was considered the best pharmacy in Lipa.
But the heart of Fidel was elsewhere. He closed shop, left the pharmacy profession completely and moved to Manila to work as a full-time journalist. An article, “Journal of Crusaders” describes his dedication:
“Reyes belonged to that old school of journalists who wrote under fancy pen names, believed writers were crusaders above all, looked upon the profession less as a means of livelihood than as a means of self-fulfillment and never discussed such prosaic matters as wages and working hours with their employers.”
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| Sociedad Anonima dedicada al Negocio de Boticas Articles of Incorporation. Organized by Fidel A. Reyes, Rufino M. Marave and Francisco D. Bautista. |
But the heart of Fidel was elsewhere. He closed shop, left the pharmacy profession completely and moved to Manila to work as a full-time journalist. An article, “Journal of Crusaders” describes his dedication:
“Reyes belonged to that old school of journalists who wrote under fancy pen names, believed writers were crusaders above all, looked upon the profession less as a means of livelihood than as a means of self-fulfillment and never discussed such prosaic matters as wages and working hours with their employers.”
He was interviewed for the article about his days working in El Renacimiento and what it meant to be a Redactor en Jefe or City Editor for the paper.
“As “redactor en jefe,” he was news editor, copy reader, news gatherer, and even proofreader, when the occasion demanded it, rolled into one. He recalls there never was a fixed payday in the old days of the Renacimiento. Occasionally three or four pesos would be thrown his way, and he’d consider himself paid until the next three or four pesos again came in his way.”
“As “redactor en jefe,” he was news editor, copy reader, news gatherer, and even proofreader, when the occasion demanded it, rolled into one. He recalls there never was a fixed payday in the old days of the Renacimiento. Occasionally three or four pesos would be thrown his way, and he’d consider himself paid until the next three or four pesos again came in his way.”
I gained courage from the leap Fidel took in leaving his life as a pharmacist to pursue a much greater calling. My interests and ambitions had changed drastically by the time I finished the requirements for graduation. One such requirement was to participate in an immersion program, where graduating students were to live with families in impoverished communities for two and a half days. The idea terrified me because of how sheltered and pampered I had been all my life. At the time, I was still being cared for by a Yaya (Nanny), the same doting and protective Yaya assigned to me the day I was born. It seemed that being raised as a spoiled princess had caught up with me but it had also served to intensify the positive effects of the immersion program. The experience set me straight for sure, and hopefully for good.
I lived with a widowed fisherman and his two daughters in their storm-flooded village in Laguna. My foster father helped me with my bags, and led me on a series of wooden planks to get to his home. I held my shrieks and screams inside as I tried not to fall into the murky polluted water along the way. The first floor of his home was completely flooded so we were all cramped in a small space on the second floor that served as the family’s living, dining, and bedroom. There was no bathroom or toilet in the house. For that, we had to walk another set of planks to get to a community outhouse. I shared all their meals, mostly small fish they had caught in the polluted water and the rice that I had brought for them. When it was time for bed, all of us slept side by side on the floor and I remember waking up in horror one night as giant ants were crawling all over my face.
Half the time I was living there I was in shock, afraid, and didn’t know what to do. My only comfort was the kind company I was with. My foster family showed genuine love and respect for each other and I saw their strength and joy amidst their hardships. We shared stories, sang songs, and prayed together. After the immersion experience, I received a letter from one of my foster sisters who had become close to me. Part of her letter read, “Alam mo, na mimiss na kaagad kita kasi para na rin kitang tunay na ate kasi ang bait mo sa amin. Ang sarap pala ng may ate. Sana naging ate nalang kita.” (You know, I miss you already because you were like a true older sister to me because you were so kind to us. It felt good to have an older sister. I wish you really were my older sister.)
She was grateful for the time we spent together and of course so was I. It was then that I decided to change my plans after graduation and pursue studies that would allow me to better help children like her and the little boy I had cared for in the orphanage. I wanted to work for a non-profit organization that served children and planned to take a new course of study in international development.
The new direction I was taking was a far cry from my old dreams of studying fashion marketing in Paris. I tossed the information package I remember receiving with so much excitement a while back and realized how my passions had shifted quite dramatically. My past ambitions used to be shaped by my own vanity and materialism more than anything else. There was no real happiness or fulfillment for me in following my old path, not after being rudely awakened to the realities of the Third World.
Half the time I was living there I was in shock, afraid, and didn’t know what to do. My only comfort was the kind company I was with. My foster family showed genuine love and respect for each other and I saw their strength and joy amidst their hardships. We shared stories, sang songs, and prayed together. After the immersion experience, I received a letter from one of my foster sisters who had become close to me. Part of her letter read, “Alam mo, na mimiss na kaagad kita kasi para na rin kitang tunay na ate kasi ang bait mo sa amin. Ang sarap pala ng may ate. Sana naging ate nalang kita.” (You know, I miss you already because you were like a true older sister to me because you were so kind to us. It felt good to have an older sister. I wish you really were my older sister.)
She was grateful for the time we spent together and of course so was I. It was then that I decided to change my plans after graduation and pursue studies that would allow me to better help children like her and the little boy I had cared for in the orphanage. I wanted to work for a non-profit organization that served children and planned to take a new course of study in international development.
The new direction I was taking was a far cry from my old dreams of studying fashion marketing in Paris. I tossed the information package I remember receiving with so much excitement a while back and realized how my passions had shifted quite dramatically. My past ambitions used to be shaped by my own vanity and materialism more than anything else. There was no real happiness or fulfillment for me in following my old path, not after being rudely awakened to the realities of the Third World.
