'See you later, Mang Danny'

This headline was the last thing I told you when I left the hospital on Friday night, Feb. 17, 2023.

I had rushed over from an errand in Mandaluyong City on Friday afternoon after being notified that you were confined. The initial prognosis was grim – but I was half-expecting to arrive at the hospital with you wide awake and gunning to go home.

What I saw when I got to you by 4 p.m. was totally heart-wrenching. Still, I talked to you for a while – about PACS, about my future in motorsports, about life – and my good friend Wyle and I prayed over you.

At around 9 p.m., after the priest conducted the anointing of the sick, I simply said, “See you later.”

Early the next day, you crossed the checkered flag and went to the great race track in the sky.

The driving genius

I first met you in 2019 at the PACS round in Malabon.

Even though I was already an Automobile Association of the Philippines Gymkhana champion by then, I was still new to the racing game. And given that I lost hands-down in my class that day, behind the wheel of a Honda Civic RS Turbo, I was certainly new to the world of PACS.

By then, I already knew that you were a living legend – a six-time Slalom King (still undefeated, as of press time) and a veteran rally driver.

And this was made all the more clear when we had a mini-battle with your son, who is my good friend, at a PACS practice session sometime later. Without ever driving my car, you got within half a second of my best time in just one run.

And how my 1300 Toyota Vios flowed – moving so gracefully and positioned so precisely between the pylons. I felt an aura surrounding the car as you drove without breaking a sweat.

The legend was no myth. And your brilliance behind the wheel never dimmed, even after four decades.

Exacting boss

Around Christmas 2019, I joined the PACS team to lead the series’ promotions and marketing starting with the 2020 season.

Your high standards in driving carried over in the work that we did together – you were my copyeditor for everything from group chat announcements to proposal letters to sponsors. 

And I cherish the times when we would have long discussions about finding the right word for something, testing even my considerable English vocabulary and having me dig for the thesaurus.

You also taught me the importance of upholding high standards in motorsports as my role in PACS grew – first as a race marshal, then as an instructor and then as a race official. 

You never tolerated subpar officiating. But you were always encouraging and supportive, pushing us to do better next time.

And it is these lessons that I continue to hold dear, now that I’m managing my own team and mentoring a new generation of racers.

Lover of life

One thing I was truly privileged to see in the years that we worked together was how you enjoyed the finer things in life.

Fine didn’t necessarily mean expensive – it was often a tasty home-cooked meal, an ice-cold beer and great conversations about life and motorsports.

And your hearty laugh was complemented by a fantastic singing voice. As a singer myself, it was nice to have someone who shared a great fondness for good music.

Wonderful counselor

Finally, you were an unexpected father figure, especially in truly tough moments in my life.

You became more than just a boss – you were a good friend and a fount of wisdom for people who are still unraveling and facing the highs and lows of the life that God gave us.

The quiet authority that you always carried meant sound and comforting advice – drawn from over six decades of good and bad times. You were truly a parent to us all, from PACS officials to up-and-coming racers.

Your kindness and humility are what I will miss most. But these are what I shall also strive to share with others.

Legacy that spans generations

Tonight, Feb. 21, 2023, is your cremation and fellowship memorial.

But instead of just giving a speech, I decided to write this piece for AutoFun Philippines (breaking down in tears midway through) so that I can somehow immortalize your legacy and, to an extent, the memories that we shared.

And so, even though you shunned being the center of attention, give me this time to tell you: “Mahal kita, Mang Danny. At lubos kang minamahal ng lahat ng mga taong tinulungan mo at kaming mga taga-PACS na ginabayan mo.”

[Translation: I love you, Mang Danny. And you are truly loved by everyone you helped and by us in PACS who you guided.]

But no goodbyes, Mang Danny – I know you’ll always be around, especially on a PACS race day.

So, again, see you later.