Stars and Skype

Long distance relationships are difficult, but nowadays, technology makes it somewhat bearable. Cellphones and computers allow friends, families or lovers to chat and see each other at any time of day or night, and in the privacy of their own rooms, or even cars (Just don’t drive and text).  And while we pay for Internet or cellphone service, connecting to another anywhere in the globe is actually free with Facetime, Viber, Hangout or Skype.

In the early 1970’s, when John was courting me (in those days, men courted women and we never said  “when WE were courting …”), John’s mother considered me a bad influence because I was encouraging him to work as a photographer, which meant that he was not paying attention to the family business. To separate us, she sent him off to Iloilo to stay with his sister. Now, in those days, there was no Internet, email or Skype, there were no cellphones or even pagers, and public coin-operated phones were just for local calls. Long distance calls could be done if one had a landline at home (we didn't) or would have to be done at the telephone company's premises.  Mailed letters took a long time, so any messages that needed to be rushed were sent by telegrams. 

My family was poor and we did not have a phone at home. If John wanted to call me, he would have to call my aunt’s house, which was next door, and wait for someone, usually my aunt’s maid or houseboy (then called servants) to call me and for me to rush to my aunt’s house. With cousins practically eavesdropping, there was no chance for John and I to say sweet nothings to each other. Besides, in those days, telephones had party-lines, meaning, two phone owners, usually neighbors, took turns in using one phone line. As a matter of phone courtesy, when one lifts the handset and hears someone talking, that person must put the phone down gently, and wait. If you’re the one using the phone, sometimes, it meant hearing that handset being lifted and put down over and over again, and when the other party becomes impatient, they say “Hello, party line, puede ba ako naman (may I have my turn?)  There was no way to stay on the phone a long time to make “telebabad” (staying too long on the phone).  

It was too embarrassing to use my aunt’s phone to call long distance, so for calls that I would have to initiate, I would go to the Philippine Long Distance Company office in Port Area, near the foot of Jones Bridge (two jeepney rides or approximately five kilometers from Paranaque, where I lived).  There were booths there, and callers were guaranteed not only soundproofed privacy, but also no party lines waiting on the wing for me to finish my call. But long distance calls were expensive, and I did not have the money to make such calls. 

Before he left for Iloilo, and anticipating the difficulty of keeping in touch, John agreed to my romantic suggestion to connect somehow by gazing at the sky and looking at a row of three stars (Orion’s belt) at the same time every night at exactly 7:00PM. We had no cellphones or Internet, it is true, but what we had was a direct connection, soul-to-soul through the stars, it was private, and it was free. Who needs Skype?

John eventually came back to Manila. We set up Adphoto, got married, and raised our own children. We’re still together, so obviously the stars worked. Once in a while, through the more than 40 years since the 1970’s, when John and I look up at darker provincial skies (disappointingly, Metro Manila no longer offers a clear view of the night sky), we give thanks that when we did not have Skype, we had the stars. 

Finding Harvey Jewell

Have you ever lost contact with someone special in your life?

I was named after my father’s friend, an American navy man named Harvey Jewell. As a child, I grew up hearing stories of my dad’s friendship with him. According to my father, they were such good friends that he had wanted Harvey to be his future child’s “ninong” (godfather). Unfortunately, Harvey J. had to leave the Philippines the night before I was born, but not before receiving a promise from my father that the baby, boy or girl (no ultrasound tests in those days), would be named Harvey. And so it came to pass that a Filipino baby girl was named Harvey.

Immediately after getting back home, he did write my father. With his letter came a picture of him and his bride, Norma Jean. They were married in Lafayette, Indiana in 1946. My father had kept that picture and letter through the years, which he would show to relatives or friends when he had to explain how I got to be named Harvey.

For many years, I was resigned to the fact that I would never get to meet the man after whom I was named. My hopes were raised with the introduction of Internet, and especially Google. I would “google” his name but finding no real leads, I soon gave up.

However, last December, a friend urged me to search for Harvey again, reminding me that new information is being added to the Internet everyday. I followed her advice, and googled for Harvey Jewel (I had mistakenly thought that his family name had only one L), but nothing came up. I searched for “Harvey Jewel Lafayette Indiana” and again nothing. I tried Harvey Jewel Norma Jean Lafayette Indiana and boom… an entry in the Lafayette Gazette appeared… Harvey E. Jewell and Norma Jean, married March 23, 1946. Bingo!

From there, I tried one of the best sources of information if one is trying to locate a person. I went to 411, and entered his name and Lafayette, Indiana. There were other Jewells, but not Harvey or Norma Jean. I decided to expand my search, and simply put Harvey E. Jewell. Quite a few Harvey Jewells were listed, but one entry said “Lt. Cmdr. Harvey E. Jewell. My heart skipped a beat, and with my fingers shaking with the exciting thought that I had found him, I clicked on his name.

Then, lo and behold, there it was. His age was listed as his 82 – a very plausible age. But, there was no email address – only a home address. I wrote him a letter and mailed it on December 2, 2007. In that letter, I told him that I was leaving the U.S. on December 8, but gave two cellphone numbers and all my landlines in the Philippines, plus, of course, my email and home address.

On December 14, I saw an email from a Gary Bement that I almost deleted because I did not know him, and I thought it was spam. I was very thankful that I went on to read his email, and discovered that he was Harvey Jewell's son-in-law.

Since Harvey did not do emails, we communicated through Gary. We soon had an exchange of emails going back and forth. Gary would write for his dad-in-law, based on letters that Harvey would write on paper. He had many stories about my father, and it did not take long for me to decide that I wanted to meet Ret. Lt. Cmdr. Harvey E. Jewell in person!


To be continued…