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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Saturday, September 25, 2004

entry arrow6:25 PM | Goodbye, Chris

Dinah was crying when she called me up earlier. Saturday was a bright day, but it was also gloomy for many of us who heard the final devastating news. From Australia, Kristyn wrote this eulogy for Chris just this morning when we all finally learned he did not make it through the night. Chris died at 1 a.m. This essay will appear in MetroPost this Sunday.





Thanks, Chris



The hardest thing to do is to write about someone who is not with us anymore. Someone you thought you'd always have the chance to meet again someday. So you don't take the extra effort to correspond with them.



Then something happens. And all you can do is regret not taking that extra measure to even just drop him an email.



Christopher Misajon died yesterday morning. He was 28. But this article talks about his life and the memories he left us, not his senseless death.



Christopher was one of the wittiest guys I have ever met in my entire life (and I've met plenty of VIPs through my line of work). He stood out back in Silliman University, not just because he was the university president's son, but because he carried an air of authority around him that very few people have. I first met him during Spanish 11 class and we immediately didn't like each other. For me, he was a snob; for him, I was a childish freshman.



But wonders of all wonders, we ended up hanging with the same crowd. And I realized how down to earth he really was. I remember he almost missed his own graduation because he would rather play Duke Nukem with us. We finally managed to pull him out of the room so he could walk on that stage and get his diploma.



He was known as "that guy" who rode his bike all over Dumaguete City. But to us, he was just goofy Chris who liked his computer games and talked incessantly about "nerdy" stuff.



He was a ladies' man, that guy. He could sing, he could talk well, he was tall, he was good looking and intelligent, and he had an abundant amount of confidence. I thought he was either going to be a journalist or a politician. So it was no surprise (and a great relief that he took the road with lesser evils) when I found out that he became the newsreader for ABS-CBN, and then later on for GMA network. Christopher was born to be in the limelight. It was inevitable.



Although majority of those who knew him was automatically drawn to him, there were several people who did not like Chris. They took his honesty as arrogance and his outspokenness as conceit. But for me, the best thing about him was his honesty. He didn't necessarily put it in the nicest way possible but that's just Chris. And it was refreshing to hear someone who was not afraid to say things other people just thought about.



I was surprised to find out he got married and had a son. I always thought he would end up flying the world instead. But when I saw him with his family in SM Cebu about two years ago, I knew he was home. He had that certain glint of content that happy people can't hide and others cannot fake.



Some idiot told him one night a couple of years back that he was dispensable in the company he previously worked for. But like what I told him that one night we went out in Cagayan de Oro, Chris is never dispensable. He was made to get to the top.



We haven't seen each other in a long time, mainly because we don't have each other's contact details. And I feel a bit embarrassed writing this when I feel I really do not know him that well the way others do. But then again, Chris was someone to several people. To many, he was the face of TV. For others, he was a son, a brother, a friend, a husband, and a father.



Sitting alone in Sydney, miles away from friends, the only way I can cope is through writing this for him. This is my way of thanking Chris for the good memories he shared with the gang and me. Thanks, Keg ... I hope you finally got your six-pack.


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich





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