Here is a photo of myself and Papa in Luneta. This must be 1987 (give or take a year or two) and back then, we used to go to Luneta so I could go biking. I learned to ride the bicycle without training wheels in Camp Aguinaldo, but my first experience on a bicycle was in Luneta.
I can do this.
My dad was in the Military. Apart from that, he was once the President of the PAF Gun Club, so it was only natural that he’d teach us to handle a gun. In high school, during summer breaks, he would take us to the firing range where we trained to handle a 45. I remember going to the range, one time, he looked at the one of his aides and he said, “Cge turuan mo” (Go ahead, and teach her). It was almost automatic.
I competed and won a few trophies as a young shooter. I still remember the first time I fired a shot. I pulled the trigger, the gun sounded, and I fought the strong recoil. It was scary. Everything came too fast, but the rush was exhilarating. Those who have handled a gun, even once, will understand what I mean. It’s the kind of rush that makes you want more–so you keep coming back for more. Almost addictive.