Prologue

  I was born in the shadows of war, in a poor Manila neighborhood, where hunger was familiar and dreams were often a luxury we couldn't afford. My parents made a humble living operating a small laundry business, scrubbing clothes for small change while raising a family with more love than means. Our roof leaked, our meals were simple, and the world outside our door was anything but kind. But somewhere between the cracked walls of our home and the distant roar of wartime sirens, a quiet determination began to grow inside me—a refusal to be defined by poverty or circumstance.

When I left the Philippines after two years of college, I carried little more than hope and a restless spirit. I enlisted in the United States Coast Guard as a steward, serving meals and cleaning quarters for officers whose ranks I could barely imagine reaching. But I learned. I listened. I worked. One step at a time, I climbed. And after 27 years of service, I retired with the rank of commander—something almost unthinkable for a young man who once washed shirts in the back alleys of Manila.

Life brought other trials, too. I fell in love with a white woman from St. Petersburg, Florida. Ours was a love that had to survive many obstacles including the prejudice of the times. But we persevered. Together, we built a life against the odds.

In 1972, while wearing the uniform of the Coast Guard, I earned a different kind of title: U.S. Armed Forces Chess Champion. A quiet game of strategy, patience, and intellect—so unlike the chaos of my beginnings—became a symbol of how far I had come.

This blog is not just about the milestones I reached, but about the journey through adversity, resilience, love, and quiet triumphs. From poverty to purpose, from slum alleys to the decks of Coast Guard cutters, and from discrimination to dignity—I offer these memories not just as a record, but as a testament.

This is my story. One of grit. One of glory. One that began in the dirt but reached—against all odds—for the moon.