National Artist Franz Arcellana, 85.

I'm not going to say anything more like how I really loved his stories or that he started me into writing. His stories gave me major headaches in Hum I and Phil Lit classes. My favorite Arcellana story is still "The Mats," which freaked me out so much when I was ten. Then I went to UP and learned the man is still around, literally. I found him browsing at the Booksale branch down at the shopping center. I never took a single class under him. Sometimes I ran into him at the accounting office. He never actually remembered my name, but would say hello every time. He'd ask where I was from, and he said his brother used to be the parish priest of Pandacan. That's all I know about him.

His wake is at the Delaney Hall in Diliman until 5 August, then they move him to the CCP. In pace requiescat, Franz.