He was no random person that I just met; he was a close relative, my mother’s first cousin. We talked about hair, how we had different experiences with growing it out and sorts. We also chatted about other stuff, which unfortunately escapes my memory. But after a few minutes, it was his turn to get trimmed, followed not too long after by me.
We met a couple times after, at different family occasions, never really conversed, but if I knew that that moment at the barber shop would be one of the last moments I would talk to him one-on-one I would have probably thought about other stuff to bring into a conversation, for he was a man who usually gave good advice. That man was a guy I and other cousins called “Uncle Jun,” a man who most of the people in the community knew as Tony Guerrero.
I just like a lot of people who were touched by his personality, were shocked at his untimely passing last week. It’s especially hard to take for me, as just recently my father’s first cousin passed away suddenly.
Uncle Jun was someone that a lot of people considered themselves lucky to have as both a relative and friend. Many people have many memories of this man Most people remember him for all the community work he has done as a member of Northern Marianas College’s family, most recently as its president, or for his work as a parent volunteer for various school Parent-Teacher Associations, or during his recent tenure as executive director of the NMI Council of the Humanities, the Uncle Jun I remember was a person who always had something to say about whatever came to your mind or someone who was always happy to see you. Well-liked, well-educated, fully respected, the traits all of us aspire to have in our older years, traits I aspire to have one of these days.
He wasn’t just a relative; he was also my next-door neighbor. Growing up I was close with his son, so I would hang out on occasion at his house, and during that time I would talk to him about random stuff despite the age I was at the time, whether it be with sports, music, what-not. Throughout the years as I got older, even though I never visited him and his place as much as I did when I was younger, he was always a presence. When my father died 10 years ago, he was there to lend a hand to his cousin who had become a widow at a young age. He saw me through being a little curious kid, to being the person I am today. And as I think about it writing this, I can say that probably one of the reasons I’ve been successful in the things I’ve done is because of him being in this life, somebody who not only took time out to mentor those who paid for a good education, but willing to give advice or a listening ear for free, to anyone who desired to hear another’s opinion. He truly was, and truly will be remembered for that, and then some.
His passing has left a void in not just a family, but an entire community, especially with the loss of such prominent educators as Sinot Gonzalo Santos and Dr. Rita Hocog Inos, with his absence, we are left with an abundance of positive memories and knowledge that will span possibly a lifetime. Experiences that his friends, colleagues, and most especially the family privileged enough to call him “primu,” “saina,” or “dad” will forever remember. He had an impact, regardless if you were the college freshman majoring in tourism who would see him walking the halls, or the relative who would amen him during a family novena, you could never escape from what made him special. You can say that education is better as a whole because of the work he had done in this life, but I can say that this world, and this life is better because people like Tony Guerrero were fortunate to be in it.
As I end this I’m reminded of a quote he use to tell me as a boy when I would ask about the world ending, he would always reply back, “I believe the world ends when we die.” But as I think more upon it, although this world has ended for him, a new world awaits him, where all that is good, all that he wished to bring out of people, is in bountiful supply. And even though his physical presence will forever be absent, he will never truly be gone. So long as family, friends, and those who were inspired by him keep his memory alive as days turn to weeks, weeks turn into months, and months turn into years, his legacy will be one that will be everlasting.
So now, I say “adios” to you Uncle Jun. May the proa which guided you into this life, bring you back to your origin, to be together with the Creator, to receive the eternal reward which awaits us in the next life. And when you get there, make sure to say hello to my dad and Uncle Lo for me. Until we meet again…rest in peace.
L.J. CASTRO
Fina Sisu, Saipan
