BY JULLIE Y. DAZA
THEM were the days. And nights that lasted until the dawn.
To Ado Escudero, they were glory days to mount religious festivals, the more sumptuous and spectacular, the better. On Good Friday he’d invite outsiders – outside his beloved Villa Escudero in Tiaong, Quezon – to behold an afternoon-long parade of saints dressed in royal raiment. In Manila, he was a sponsor of Intramuros’ annual procession of a hundred carriages bearing images of the Blessed Virgin as they moved in slow rhythmic grace around the Walled City.
Not that Ado was a narrow-minded Catholic. To the contrary, he relished his feuds with the clergy on liturgical issues and whenever they did not take more care of priceless relics of the Church. As an ordinary layman – if ordinary was possible – his role was to act as guardian of Filipino manners and culture. Always impeccably dressed in the correct fashion for the right occasion, always supporting kindred spirits to keep the torch burning for the arts, he attended recitals, concerts, dinner parties but was among the first to leave because he couldn’t stay away too long from the enchanted forest that was home. The last two times we were together, we watched pianist Ingrid Sala Santamaria perform in a Buddhist temple and we attended CCP’s golden anniversary with its founder, Imelda Marcos.
Louie Cruz was the quintessential night owl who lived only for parties. That was how most people knew him. There was another side to him, the daytime Louie who lived it up as a self-styled “beach bum” in Boracay; patronized Myther’s shop in Malate, each time bringing bolts of cotton-knit fabric in all colors to be cut and sewn into his signature off-shoulder style; survived, for a while, the pressure of deadlines as editor of a lifestyle magazine.
I assume Iskho Lopez knew Ado and Louie, even if it’s not likely that the two moved in Iskho’s circle. Iskho’s last job ended in 2016 with the Benigno Aquino III regime, for which he was chief editor of Malacañang’s news desk. Eternally a free-lance entertainment writer-editor, he surprised his colleagues when he bagged that position, miles away from the stars but close enough to rub elbows with the high and mighty.
Ado, Louie, Iskho: Passion was their calling card.
