CERTAINLY I have reason to let myself brag that I was “close” to Mr. Sy for 60 awesome years, or something like that. His shoes were part of my education, all those black Mary Janes (among other chunky styles) that were part of my school uniform, from the first pair my mother bought for me at his Carriedo store, up to the time I finished college and beyond, when I was finally free to wear other colors on my feet and l-o-n-g before the thought of a mall entered the periphery of his vision. Then again, who knew what he was dreaming of even then?
My mother addressed him as “Mr. Sy,” so that was how I called him, whether he was the Henry Sy of SM, or “Tatang” as he was nicknamed by his employees, or the “richest man in the Philippines” tagged by Forbes and business writers. Richest, maybe, but I never saw a Rolex on his wrist, and how come he went to the same restaurants I did? The last time I ran into him at a restaurant in Malate famous for its Singapore-style Hainanese chicken, I greeted him shyly, like a stranger, “Mr. Sy, do you remember me?” He chuckled, “Of course I know you, Jullie, you come here often?”
Except for the wheelchair in which he sat, surrounded at a round table by men who looked like business associates, he was the same Mr. Sy of old, which is to say, the same as when he was younger. Many, many of my friends today and yesterday worked for Mr. Sy under the SM label. Many more are awed by the simplicity and modesty of the man who has donated buildings to universities other than the one or two he owns, has built churches and chapels (Mrs. Fely institutionalized Sunday masses at the malls), he supported the academic pursuits of scholars by the hundreds, contributed unquantifiable amounts to hospitals and orphanages and other philanthropic causes, and what’s hardly mentioned in the business pages, instilled in his descendants the importance of family as a unit while inculcating in them Christian and Confucian values.
He was a visionary, indeed, but being so unbelievably plain and unadorned, it was easy to suspect that he was “just lucky” at the right time after nearly half a lifetime of waiting for fortune to strike in a big way. If it wasn’t all luck, what was it? Mr. Sy was driven to give his customers what he wanted them to enjoy: ease of shopping, convenience traveling to and from the store, comfort, choices, at prices within their reach. An awesome formula, but Mr. Sy was a wizard and he didn’t know it. To him, it was all about being fair.
