My TV Dad

One of the blessings of my life is to be part of a family I am truly proud of, to be part of a family tradition of courage, integrity and sincere nationalism. The person closest to me that embodies this most deeply is my father (Geny Lopez).

I remember sitting at the breakfast table when I must have been around nine or 10, and he showed me the newspaper — “See,” he said proudly, “We are number one!” And he added with pride that he was bringing in Superman, Batman, and all these shows from the US. And soon we would be having color TV! He was also very proud of An Evening With Pilita, and even as a child I remember watching Dolphy and Panchito. ABS-CBN was his life, his passion. He loved this world of creating, of making things happen. He loved being at the top of his game. I can remember one of my grandfather’s assistants sitting beside me and telling me, “Your dad, he learned from the bottom — and he learned quickly — and he really knows how to handle the stars!” Even up to now, Dolphy remembers him fondly, as do the group of ABS-CBN executives who worked with him.

Geny Lopez was a man of principles. Being decent to the househelp was very important to him. I remember him scolding me for borrowing money from the helpers. I remember those Christmas gatherings where he got a big kick out of giving away money... very much like my lolo. The memory left such an imprint on me that, on Christmas, I would stage my own gatherings and invite the family and relatives of the helpers to come over — and we would play games. I’d give out P25 to participants, P100 to winners, P500 to the grand winner of the various games. Nowhere near the scale of my dad, of course — because I had nowhere near that kind of money. But it doesn’t take much to make people happy; just the fact of playing games and getting money as a prize makes them happy. But the lesson of taking care of the household has remained with me.

Although he was this big-time businessman, he had the softest heart! Like, really soft! When I left the family and went to Africa, Daddy and the family visited me twice in Africa. Both times, my dad was in tears — and so was I! But not just tears falling; I mean, like, sobbing tears: intense, emotional stuff.

He was a stickler for excellence. We older kids bore the brunt of it.

Especially Gabby and myself — he wanted high grades from us. I remember failing Filipino in one grading period — and the timing of that was really bad, because it came at the time of the junior-senior prom. I had a date, and I really wanted to go. And he refused because of the failing grade. So I cried and cried and cried...  and yes, in the end I got my way and ended up going. It was very hard for him to deal with the girls. My mother amusingly told me that when they were in San Francisco for political asylum, whenever my sisters Berta and Marisa wanted anything he would isolate himself and close the door because once they got a hold of him, there was no way he would be able to refuse.

When he died, people I’d never met began appearing, talking about what he had done for them, causing my mom to remark, “Wow, I didn’t know I was married to a great man pala.”

Daddy was so busy. But he was so physically affectionate — very carinoso — so we always felt so loved. As a child I remember my yaya putting powder on our faces, because Daddy loved to kiss us. And even though he traveled a lot, there were always the family times that we treasured, particularly the times when we would go out on the yacht. He loved the sea. He taught me how to water ski — in Manila Bay! I can’t even imagine getting in there now!

He was an eternal optimist. Ernie, my younger brother (who now heads ABS-CBN Publishing), told me that, in San Francisco, Dad would be reading the newspaper, then he would put it down and remark, “Gina is coming back!” (Mind you I had been away from the family for 15 years, and for much of that time had not communicated as per organizational policy.)

Up to the end he believed I would come back — and I did. He always felt there was a way that things would work out. Even when he left the country — and put up a food company — his heart was with the Philippines. Once, a psychic told me, “Your father is a Filipino soul.” He came back, invested in telecommunications, in water, in roads; he really wanted to help build the country. He wanted to connect people, he wanted us to be world-class, so he put up cable, he put up ABS Global. He kept on dreaming and envisioning a brighter future.

And I can still feel him — in my brother, in me. I feel his spirit in my family. I actually felt him and lolo when I went to the Meralco stockholders’ meeting. The Meralco song was playing and there was a sentiment of passion welling up for the company — for service. That’s what the family is all about. I could get sidelined giving my piece on Meralco — of how we had the lowest power rates in Asia before martial law — but then this piece is really about my father and what he stood for.

He loved this country — deeply. And he loved his family. He was very close to his brothers, particularly Tito Oskie, who would take the brunt for his misdeeds. He was very much an older brother to Uncle Manolo and Tita Presy. He was close to his father — but he had a special affinity for his mother, my Lola Nitang. He loved teasing her and hugging her. Even his separation from my mom was so decent. He took good care of her. When Mom fell in love with Dick Taylor, Mom, Dick, Dad and Susan (Reyes) would actually double-date in San Francisco. (I have to hand it to my parents: that was refreshingly enlightened, to me.) It’s amusing. Mom said when she told Dad she wanted to marry Dick, Dad offered to do the despedida de soltera. Now, that should be one for the record books. And I can see that decency in the way my brothers handle their relationships.

One interesting tidbit about Daddy is about how clean and orderly he was. I can remember going to his dressing room — and seeing him clean his shoes! He was rich, but he didn’t have too much — he had just enough clothes and the hangers would all be facing the same way. All the colors would be together. Even when he cleaned his ears, he would cut off one end, and leave the other end since it was still clean. My mother would remark that Daddy had the cleanest feet! That they were even smoother than his face!

When he took on something, any project, he took to it with a passion. My mother was always the starter — from diving, to tennis, to meditation. Daddy and the rest of the family would follow. But when Daddy took it on, he stuck to it with a military discipline. He would religiously wake up at 4 a.m. to meditate without fail every day! Then he would go to Mass. He even put up a meditation room at the Benpres Building. So now ABS-CBN has a meditation room; Gabby meditates there. And ABS-CBN executives can better recognize the value of inner growth. Yes, Dad left his mark.

My father has left his mark on each and every one of his children. His biggest fan is Dick Taylor, Mom’s present husband; Dick regards him as the epitome of a businessman with integrity. He has left his mark on the businesses he started. He has left a legacy of love of country and dynamic professionalism. He was a businessman, but he had an all-Filipino heart, through and through. Perhaps my only regret is that he didn’t teach me Ilonggo. I totally love the sweetness and musicality of the language. But he left me the Ilonggo heart: I am forever grateful and proud to be his daughter. His spirit lives on.