pn: Innocent convict saved from death gets lifelong wish
Balita News
NAGA CITY—One of the three men convicted for a murder they did not
commit and who were reprieved 40 years ago finally got his wish to
meet his relatives on his father's side.
It was a long-dreamed-of moment for Jose T. Villaroya of Tinambac,
Camarines Sur, whose father died when he was very young and whose
urge to search for his roots remained burning.
Villaroya's story, "The innocent man's tale," published in the April 5
issue of the Inquirer, had caught the attention of his relatives in
Gubat, Sorsogon.
The story was about three men who were condemned to die on
the electric chair in 1958 but were reprieved a minute before their
execution with the help of Jorge Afable and Ramon Lopez, then
two young journalists of the Manila Chronicle.
Their reprieve was based on the Supreme Court ruling that
minors were exempted from capital punishment and on the
confession of Jose Tariman, the Huk leader who actually did the
crime.
In Gubat during the recent Holy Week break, this writer met the
lone surviving sister of Villaroya's father, Leonor
Villaroya-Holazo, who had read the story.
Holazo inquired about other personal details on Villaroya,
knowing that he is from Tinambac town.
She asked for the name of Villaroya's father who, she said, could
be the long-lost brother that her father, Clemente, had told her
and her siblings about.
Again, fate worked on Villaroya's side.
When this writer said the name of Villaroya's father was
Geronimo, and that Geronimo's father was named Clemente,
tears of joy fell from Holazo's eyes.
Villaroya was the son of their long-lost brother!
Arrangements were made for the meeting between Jose and the
Villaroyas of Gubat on April 28, 23 days after the publication of
the story.
Bienvenido Villaroya, the son of Godofredo who was the eldest
among Geronimo's siblings, met Jose in his gasoline station in
Naga City for the first time.
He had no doubt that Jose was the cousin that his father
Godofredo, who has since died, tried but failed to locate in the
early 1990s in Tinambac.
Indeed, Bienvenido said, Jose's physical features were certainly
that of a Villaroya.
Face to face with his kin, Jose tried to recall vague memories of
his father who died when he was very young.
He could not remember the date of Geronimo's death, but he was
able to recall names and events to piece the puzzle together.
The only child of Geronimo, Jose was raised by Salvador Tuy,
his first cousin. He remained in Salvador's care until he was
convicted of a crime he did not commit and sentenced to die on
the electric chair.
He spent the prime years of his life in a prison cell.
But the 19 long years in jail did not kill his desire to someday
meet his father's siblings.
When he was freed in the 1970s, that desire was undimmed. But
he was torn by doubt that he would be recognized by his
father's relatives, whom he had never met.
Thus, Jose exerted all his energies to rebuild his shattered life.
He eventually married and sired two daughters. He tried to live
as normally as possible, all the while trying to erase from his
memory the nightmare that had befallen him.
But the publication of his story in the Inquirer rekindled
Villaroya's yearning to fulfill his lifelong wish to meet his
relatives on his father's side.
This writer, who is also related by blood to the Villaroyas,
incidentally served to bridge the gap.
The rest is history. After many years, Villaroya was able to
touch base with his roots.
Perhaps it is one way by which fate is mending the injustice
done to an innocent man by a system that is subject to abuse.
But happy endings like this only happen by chance. Others are
not as fortunate as Jose T. Villaroya