March 29, 2024

(Editors’ note: Cesar Carantes shares a tribute to his older brother, the late Atty. Benedicto Carantes)

Coming from the wake of my cousin Manuel Carantes after learning from my niece, Chantal, that manong Bennie is in critical condition in the hospital, I rushed home and called my sister Alice to ask how manong Bennie was. “You can’t come here because of the virus. Just pray that he will pull through,” she replied.
I was shocked and heartbroken because the odds were against him when my sister revealed that they inserted a tube through his throat and was on respirator. On the late night of Sept. 19, he was hovering between life and death.
Dehado siya dito,” I said to myself. Parang sa sabong (he is a known dehadista). I lighted two candles in front of my two Santo Niños and together with my good friend Emong Gamboa who is in the States and is a very close family friend and ally, prayed with me for a miracle – for the recovery of my brother.
I was pleading for the mercy of the good Lord in my prayers to give my brother a chance to recover. Emong went to the extent of posting on Facebook to request manong Bennie’s avid readers to pray for his recovery.
After a couple of hours or so, Alice knocked on my door. I was hoping for an improvement in manong’s condition but on the verge of tears, she said, “Awanen ni Bennie.”
We lost him to pneumonia in the early morning of Sept. 20. The burial of my cousin Manuel was the next day, when the wake of my brother began.
Everybody in our community was shocked about the news of his untimely demise. Everybody stared blankly at each other, mum, and tongue-tied. Unbelieving.
Bennie is the unifying factor in our community. He was more than popular, always the one to look up to for moral or legal advice. His absence will make a big difference. His writing table is empty. He will be missed. He will be missed as well in the cockfight arena where he used to sit.
He is a prolific writer as most of his readers claim. His command of English elicits admiration and he has amassed a throng of loyal readers in his 40 years as a columnist of the Courier.
This is where his absence will be felt the most. His “Opposite Connection” column is the most read column in Baguio, if not in the Cordillera. A Sunday is not a Sunday without reading his column.
His readers will miss his wit, humor, and even the rumors in his columns.
His untimely demise caught everybody by surprise. It’s hard to believe that he is gone.
Gone are the days when he will send his helper to call me or call me via cellphone to come up and eat. Gone are the days of going out of town with him for derbies in the Araneta and Roligon cockpits. “The ecstasy of winning and the tragedy of losing” aside from seeing the talents of high class breeds.


He didn’t pull through. Panalo ang llamado. Dehado s’ya.
But this is not sabong and it’s not a game or a sport.
This is a harsh reality of life – the unexpected passing away of a loved one. A sort of a “patriarch” or a scion of a prominent clan from the distant past who are pioneers of Baguio or Kafagway then, “with a long line of nobility” as described in the memoirs of Baguio.
“So soon manong ko,” I said to myself. I was expecting him to live up to past 80 years old, by the looks of it or by his zest for living or good living, for he has a habit of overbuying food, to satiate us and his friends and colleagues with food to our heart’s content.
Most of the time he invited us to eat at his house – outside where there are tables, including his writing table. Coming home from downtown where he bought raw and cooked food or send someone else, most often Berto, a neighbor who also cooks seafood enough to feed 10 or more people.
He would invite neighbors and friends who happen to pass by. Sometimes when we are just by ourselves, he tells Alice to bring home the rest of what is left – enough for us who live in the main house.
He is a natural in his generosity with food. It’s more than a habit. Ask his friends in the cockfight arena.
They will miss him for being charitable not only with food. I will miss him for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything, boss. I know that heaven holds a special place for compassionate and understanding people like you, boss. Goodbye for now, boss.
We know that death is inevitable. Everybody dies. As mortals, we have limits. And only God knows when our time is up.
I hold him in awe and revere him as a person. He is the one I admire the most, as far as his wit, humor, and intelligence are concerned, mostly in the legal aspect, being a lawyer.
For years, I stood behind his shadow. We have the same “wavelength.” We were closer to each other. And we both have a knack for writing. He would request me sometimes to be a guest writer in his column and I’m obliged and honored.
He is my favorite brother – a father figure to me since our dad passed away. He was a friend, a confidant, a protector, a defender, and more.
I was shocked and devastated by his sudden demise. I turned around and he is gone.
“So soon, manong ko.”
Wondering.