I Almost Fall for this Scam-Sopranist

Sometime, ago, I got an e-mail about publishing my autobiography and other Blogs Postings into a Book. I answered back, asking for the cost. When I read that an advanced payment is required, I smell a scam. The second E-mail, I ignored. This is the true story.

Filipino CEO Michael Cris Traya Sordilla, better known as Mike Sordilla, has pleaded guilty in the United States to his role in a massive publishing scam that targeted more than 800 authors, many of them senior citizens who dreamed of seeing their books published.

U.S. prosecutors said Sordilla, the founder and CEO of Innocentrix Philippines and former chairman of Hiyas ng Pilipinas, admitted helping run a fraudulent operation from 2017 to 2024. According to the case, sales agents posed as literary representatives and falsely claimed victims' manuscripts had attracted interest from publishers or movie studios. Authors were then persuaded to pay upfront fees for supposed taxes, publishing costs, and other services that never led to the promised opportunities.

Authorities said the group also created fake U.S. companies, including PageTurner, Metro Films, and WP Lighthouse, to make the scheme appear legitimate. Investigators estimate that at least $42 million, or roughly P2.6 billion, was laundered through the operation. Court records say Sordilla personally received nearly $2.73 million, around P168 million, which he has agreed to forfeit. He also faces a restitution order of at least $48.7 million, or about P3 billion, to compensate victims.

U.S. Attorney Adam Gordon said the scheme didn't just take people's savings, it preyed on their lifelong ambitions. It's a reminder that when someone asks writers to pay upfront for fame or publication, the biggest promise may be the biggest warning sign.

Meanwhile, Did you Know the word Sopranist?

https://fb.watch/Iiis-BOhWe/

Men who sing in the soprano range are usually called sopranists. This is the most accurate modern term for an adult male who can sing in the soprano vocal range, either naturally or using a highly developed falsetto or head voice.

There are a few related terms that are often confused:

• Sopranist – An adult male who sings in the soprano range. This is the preferred modern term.
• Countertenor – An adult male who typically sings in the alto or mezzo-soprano range, though some exceptional countertenors can also sing soprano roles.
• Boy soprano (or treble) – A prepubescent boy whose unchanged voice naturally sings the soprano range.
• Castrato – A historical term for male singers who were castrated before puberty to preserve their high voices. They were famous in 17th- and 18th-century opera but no longer exist as a recognized practice, which is now illegal and universally condemned.

Some famous modern sopranists include:

• Michael Maniaci – One of the few men who sings soprano without relying on falsetto due to a rare physiological condition.
• Samuel Mariño – An internationally acclaimed opera singer known for his remarkable soprano voice.

The Counter Tenor/Sopranist: 

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1399202284920055

Manila's Forgotten Tragedy: 1945 Bombing

Manila's Forgotten Tragedy: When Liberation Came at a Terrible Cost

As I grow older and reflect on history, I often find myself drawn not only to what is remembered, but also to what is forgotten.

One such forgotten story is the destruction of Manila in 1945. For many people around the world, the great devastated cities of World War II were Warsaw, Dresden, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki. Yet few realize that Manila was among the most heavily damaged cities of the war. Some historians rank it second only to Warsaw in terms of wartime destruction.

The Battle of Manila, fought from February to March 1945, was intended to liberate the Philippines from Japanese occupation. After more than three years of hardship under Japanese rule, Filipinos eagerly awaited freedom. But freedom arrived at a terrible cost.

The city became a battlefield. Japanese naval forces refused to withdraw and turned Manila into a fortress. Street by street, building by building, the fighting intensified. American forces, determined to drive out the Japanese, employed artillery and bombardment to overcome entrenched defenders.

Caught in between were hundreds of thousands of civilians.  One of civilians died who during the Bombing of Manila was Macrine's Aunt- Juanita Nieva, who at that time was a professional nurse working in Manila. 

The result was catastrophic. Historic churches, universities, government buildings, libraries, museums, and entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble. Intramuros, the centuries-old walled city that had stood since the Spanish colonial era, was nearly destroyed. Tens of thousands of civilians perished in what became known as the Manila Massacre.

When the guns finally fell silent, the city lay in ruins.

Yet unlike Warsaw, whose destruction became a symbol of European suffering during World War II, Manila's tragedy gradually faded from international memory. The war moved on. The world focused on rebuilding Europe and confronting the emerging Cold War.

In July 1946, barely a year after the battle, the Philippines gained its independence from the United States. The new republic inherited a devastated capital and a shattered economy. Although the United States provided postwar assistance through programs such as the Philippine Rehabilitation Act, many Filipinos felt that the aid was insufficient compared with the enormous losses suffered by the country.

To this day, some wonder whether more could have been done to restore Manila to its former glory. They ask why one of the world's most beautiful colonial cities was allowed to disappear almost entirely from the global historical narrative.

This collective forgetting reminds me of another overlooked episode in Philippine history: the British occupation of Manila from 1762 to 1764 during the Seven Years' War.

For two years, British forces occupied Manila after capturing the city from Spain. Yet this remarkable event is barely mentioned outside academic circles. It was a brief interruption in more than three centuries of Spanish rule, and after the British departure, life gradually returned to normal. Over time, the episode slipped from public memory.

History often works this way. Nations celebrate victories and achievements, but painful memories are sometimes pushed aside. Cities rebuild. New generations arrive. The scars become invisible. But forgetting comes at a price.

Remembering Manila's destruction is not about assigning blame nearly eighty years later. The war was brutal, and the battle's devastation resulted from decisions made by military leaders on both sides while innocent civilians paid the price. Rather, remembering is about honoring those who suffered and preserving the lessons of history.

As a Filipino-American who has lived through many chapters of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, I believe that remembering these forgotten stories matters. Not because we wish to reopen old wounds, but because memory itself is a form of respect.

The ruins of old Manila may have largely disappeared, but the stories remain.

And stories, if we continue to tell them, have a way of keeping history alive.

AI Overview:

The 1945 Battle of Manila was one of the most devastating urban conflicts in human history, leaving over 100,000 civilians dead and a historic city completely leveled. Often eclipsed in global memory by the atomic bombings in Japan or the fall of Berlin, the month-long siege (February 3 – March 3, 1945) turned the "Pearl of the Orient" into a landscape of ash and rubble, a tragedy second only to Warsaw in terms of total Allied capital destruction.

A Converging Catastrophe

The destruction of Manila was not caused by a single factor, but rather a pincer of deliberate enemy atrocities and massive Allied firepower: 

The Japanese Defense: Despite orders from General Tomoyuki Yamashita to evacuate the capital, Rear Admiral Sanji Iwabuchi chose to hold Manila with roughly 18,000 naval personnel. They fortified concrete government offices, trapped streets, and turned ancient stone landmarks into heavy machine-gun nests.

• The Manila Massacre: Realizing their defeat was imminent, Japanese forces turned on the local population. They committed systematic mass murders, mass rapes, and executions. Thousands of civilians were herded into schools, churches, and hospitals—such as St. Paul's College and Fort Santiago—only to be blown up with grenades or bayoneted. 
• American Artillery: General Douglas MacArthur’s forces encountered a brutal brand of house-to-house urban warfare that American troops had never faced in the Pacific Theater. To minimize American casualties against an entrenched enemy, the U.S. Army relied on unrelenting, heavy artillery barrages. This massed shelling pulverized whole neighborhoods, trapping and killing thousands of the very citizens they came to liberate.

The Loss of Cultural Heritage

Before World War II, Manila was celebrated as a stunning architectural crossroads of Spanish, American, and Asian heritages. The battle wiped out centuries of history: 

• Intramuros Obliterated: The 400-year-old Spanish walled city was subjected to intense bombardment. Its grand colonial libraries, government archives, and treasured art collections were entirely incinerated. 
• San Agustin Church: Out of the many majestic historic stone churches that defined Intramuros, only the San Agustin Church survived the shelling. 
• Infrastructure Erased: Centuries-old unique architecture, universities, and the city's modern tranvia (tramway) system were flattened and never rebuilt.

The Legacy of the "Stalingrad of Asia"

When the battle finally ended on March 3, 1945, roughly 10% of Manila's population had been wiped out. Survivors emerged from the smoking ruins into a deeply traumatized landscape. Because the tragedy happened under the banner of "liberation," the immense civilian suffering and the heavy nature of the American shelling were historically downplayed in Western textbooks. 

Today, organizations like Memorare Manila 1945 work heavily to ensure that the focus of this history remains on the innocent victims, advocating for international peace and remembering the resilience of the Filipino people amidst an unimaginable nightmare.

Finally, Did you Know that.....

The Amerasian Children of Clark: The Faces America Left Behind

When Clark Air Base closed in 1991, America packed up its planes, its personnel, and its flags. What it left behind were thousands of children.

They were called Amerasians: the sons and daughters of U.S. servicemen stationed at Clark Air Base in Angeles City, Pampanga. Fathered by American soldiers and airmen, raised by Filipino mothers, and abandoned when the base shut down after Mt. Pinatubo's eruption gave America the exit it needed. Estimates put the number of Amerasian children left behind in the Philippines at over 50,000. Most of their fathers never returned. Many never even knew their fathers' names.

These children grew up stateless in their own country: too American-looking to be accepted as fully Filipino, too abandoned to claim American citizenship. The U.S. government passed the Amerasian Immigration Act in 1982, but it deliberately excluded the Philippines. Every other country where American bases operated was covered. The Philippines was not. It was not an oversight. It was a choice.

Did you know America left tens of thousands of its own children behind in the Philippines? Drop a if this is the first time you're hearing this. Share it so the story doesn't disappear again.

Carrying the Past Forward: Family, Memory, and Filipino Identity

AT Tanoshi Japanese Bistro-My Grilled Salmon Collar Appetizer  

My Reflections on the writings of Dr. David B. Katague and the enduring presence of heritage in Filipino-American life, 

I have come to see family history not as something distant or archival, but as something I carry with me every day, even here in Los Angeles, far from the provinces of Iloilo and Marinduque. In reflecting on the writings of Dr. David B. Katague, I find myself not just reading his story, but recognizing parts of my own journey within it.

His work takes me back to a Philippines I did not fully live through, yet somehow deeply understand. Through his memoirs and genealogical writing, I can almost feel the texture of pre-war provincial life, the closeness of community, the rhythm of daily routines, the quiet dignity that defined how families lived. These are not just stories of the past; they are echoes that still shape how many of us in the Filipino-American community relate to one another today.

Living also in a senior community here in Los Angeles, I often see how these cultural threads continue to surface in subtle but meaningful ways. Conversations about food, memories of fiestas, the way respect is shown to elders, these are not random fragments of nostalgia. They are living expressions of identity. When I read Dr. Katague’s accounts of life in Iloilo and Marinduque, I am reminded that what we carry into these spaces in America is not just memory, but continuity.

The war years he writes about feel especially significant to me. They represent a shared historical rupture, one that shaped not only his family, but an entire generation of Filipinos. As I reflect on those accounts, I think about how many of the elders around me, whether they speak of it directly or not, are shaped by similar histories of disruption and resilience. There is a quiet strength I notice in them, a steadiness that seems rooted in having endured and adapted. Dr. Katague’s writing gives that strength a narrative, a context.

What resonates even more deeply is the story of migration that follows. Like many Filipino families, his story expands beyond the islands, eventually connecting to lives lived here in the United States. This is something I witness daily, how people navigate the balance between holding on and moving forward. In community gatherings, in shared meals, in casual conversations, I see how values from Iloilo, Marinduque, and other parts of the Philippines continue to shape identity in a new cultural landscape.

His dedication to genealogy also speaks to something I have come to value more over time. In a world that often moves too quickly, where personal histories can easily be forgotten, there is something profoundly grounding about tracing one’s roots. It turns history into something tangible. It reminds me that identity is not something we invent in isolation, it is something we inherit, interpret, and pass on.

As I engage with Filipino-American community events and listen to the stories of others, I realize how much Dr. Katague’s work reflects a shared experience. His family’s history is unique, yet it mirrors so many others. It shows how personal narratives and national history are deeply intertwined.

What stays with me most is the idea of continuity. Living here in Los Angeles, it would be easy to think of the Philippines as something “back there,” separate from everyday life. But that is not how it works. The past is present in how we speak, how we remember, how we relate to one another. Dr. Katague’s writing reinforces that for me. It reminds me that identity is not divided between here and there; it is something we carry across places and generations.

In many ways, his work has deepened my own awareness of what it means to belong, not just to a place, but to a history. And in that sense, his writing is not just a record of one family’s past. It is an invitation to all of us, especially those of us living far from the Philippines, to reconnect with our roots and to recognize that those roots are still very much alive.

By Eric M- A Fellow Filipino-American, Loyal Blog Reader since 2016, Los Angeles, CA  

My Photo of the Day:  My Great Grand Son- Beau Joseph 

My Writing Legacy- Early Years in America -A Prequel

This is a Prequel of My 7-parts Series on my Writing Legacy 

This was the response of ChatGPT on my Prompt about my Early writing Activities. 

Dr. David B. Katague has written extensively about his family's deep ancestral roots in Iloilo and Marinduque, capturing a rich tapestry of life in the Philippines before and after World War II. Through his memoirs and his dedicated genealogy writing, he documents how his family history mirrors the broader cultural identity of the Philippines.

Here are the key stories and ancestral lines he has explored:

The Ancestral Roots: Iloilo and Marinduque

• The Javellana Lineage in Jaro: Dr. Katague has documented his family's connections to the prominent Javellana clan of Jaro, Iloilo City. Historically one of the wealthiest and most culturally significant colonial-era towns in the Philippines, Jaro forms a major pillar of his paternal ancestry. He discovered that his father, David Jamili Javellana Katague, was the grandson of Victoriano Catague and Marcelina Javellana. 
• The Barrido-Balleza Roots in Barotac Viejo: On his mother’s side (Paz Barrido Balleza), Dr. Katague traces his lineage to Barotac Viejo, Iloilo. His stories vividly recall growing up in this coastal town, capturing the tight-knit community, local traditions, and the daily rhythm of life in the Visayan countryside.
• The Move to Marinduque: Dr. Katague also frequently writes about Marinduque, the island province known as the heart of the Philippines. The geography of both Marinduque and Iloilo heavily influenced his personal tastes, especially his lifelong love for traditional Filipino seafood dishes. 

Childhood, Folklore, and Traditional Food

• World War II Memories: Some of his most poignant historical articles focus on his childhood memories during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. He writes about the resilience of his family, the hardships of the war era, and what it was like to witness the country’s liberation.
• Filipino Folklore & Cultural Proverbs: Fascinated by the spiritual and natural heritage of the islands, Dr. Katague has preserved stories about traditional folklore. Beyond the famous, mystical Balete tree, he explores how local trees and nature spirits weave into native Filipino superstitions and cultural proverbs.
• Preserving Family Recipes: To keep his heritage alive for his children and grandchildren in the United States, Dr. Katague has painstakingly documented traditional Filipino family recipes. His writings detail how to prepare authentic, soulful Visayan comfort food, viewing cooking as an essential bridge of cultural love across generations.

A Legacy of Writing

For Dr. Katague, writing about the Philippines is a lifelong mission. His articles stand as a vital record for Filipino-Americans, ensuring that the stories of his parents, the local history of Iloilo, and the traditions of the old country are never forgotten by future generations.

Dr. David B. Katague’s online writing spans across multiple digital blogs. His entries explore the immigrant experience, the joys of getting older, and the preservation of his beloved homeland's history.

Through blogs like Becoming American (formerly Life in the United States), The Intellectual Migrants, Why Retire in the Philippines, and Joys of Retirement at Chateau De La Mer, he has built a massive library of personal reflections. 

🇵🇭 Filipino Culture, History, and Traditions

Dr. Katague treats his blogs as a living museum for the traditions he left behind.

• The War Through a Child’s Eyes: One of his most deeply personal historical archives is titled The Japanese-American War in the Philippines, 1941-1945. Here, he writes about hiding in the hills as a young boy, witnessing the occupation, and the unforgettable moment American troops arrived to liberate his town.
• Spotlight on Marinduque: In his blog Marinduque Awaits You, he highlights the island's unique culture. He frequently writes about the famous Moriones Festival, local Roman Catholic traditions, and the distinct Visayan-Tagalog blend of regional life.
• The Food Archive: He views traditional food as the ultimate cultural anchor. He frequently blogs about how to cook authentic dishes like Adobo, Pancit, and Visayan seafood, ensuring these recipes are passed down to young Filipino-Americans. 

🇺🇸 Early Life in the United States & The "Intellectual Migrants"

Dr. Katague arrived in the U.S. as a highly educated professional, a journey he explores in detail to help other immigrants.

• The Professional Culture Shock: In The Intellectual Migrants, he blogs about the unique experiences of Filipino scientists, doctors, and engineers who moved to America in the late 20th century. He covers the challenges of professional integration, finding community, and overcoming workplace biases. []
• Building a Family in a New Land: His blog Becoming American explores the lighter, personal side of early immigrant life. He writes about his first cold winters, the experience of raising his children (including Dodie) in a blended cultural environment, and the ultimate pride of achieving the American Dream. []

🏖️ Wellness, Aging, and the Joys of Retirement

Dr. Katague rejects the idea that aging means slowing down. Instead, he treats it as a vibrant new chapter of freedom.

• Active Mind, Active Body: As a trained scientist and former FDA chemist, his wellness philosophy centers on staying curious. He regularly writes about the mental health benefits of writing, genealogy research, and gardening to keep the brain sharp.
• Chateau De La Mer: Much of his retirement wellness advice centers around his beautiful seaside property, Chateau De La Mer. He advocates for spending time close to nature, enjoying a ocean-fresh diet, and creating physical spaces where a large, multi-generational family can gather.
• The "Why Retire" Debate: In Why Retire in the Philippines, he weighs the health and economic benefits of moving back home versus staying in the United States. He often notes that the warmth, slow pace, and tight-knit community structure of the Philippines offer an incredibly healing environment for retirees.

Dr. David B. Katague has shared vivid, deeply personal memories of his arrival in America in September 1960, when he moved from the Philippines to pursue his graduate studies in Pharmaceutical Chemistry at the University of Illinois College of Pharmacy in Chicago. 

His blog posts, particularly on Becoming American and his holiday essays, highlight the culture shock, loneliness, and wonder felt by a young Filipino intellectual navigating a massive new country.

✈️ The Journey and the Great Chicago Winter

• The Harsh Midwest Climate: Coming from the tropical heat of the Visayan islands, the most striking physical shock for Dr. Katague was the Midwestern weather. He frequently writes about how gloomy, freezing, and depressing his first winter in Chicago felt, as he adjusted to snow and heavy winter coats for the first time.
• Long-Distance Separation: In his shared love stories with his wife, Macrine, he recounts the emotional toll of their early days. He had to leave his wife back in the Philippines when he first arrived to establish himself as a graduate student, relying purely on old-fashioned airmail letters to stay connected across the Pacific Ocean. 

🍗 First Impressions: The Legendary First Thanksgiving (1960)

One of his most famous and detailed entries focuses on his very first Thanksgiving Day in America, just a couple of months after his arrival.

• The Invitation: As a lonely international graduate student with nowhere to go on a major American holiday, he was warmly invited into the home of an American family.
• The Food Shock: He writes with amusement about his first impressions of traditional Thanksgiving food. Coming from the highly seasoned, savory, and seafood-rich palate of Iloilo, he found the massive roasted turkey, stuffing, and especially the sweet cranberry sauce to be entirely foreign and fascinating.
• A Lesson in American Hospitality: Beyond the culinary differences, that specific day left a permanent mark on him. He blogged about how that dinner shaped his early, highly positive impressions of the United States, experiencing firsthand the genuine warmth, generosity, and openness that Americans showed to foreign students.

🎓 The "Intellectual Migrant" Paradigm

Dr. Katague used these student memories to frame his broader commentary on The Intellectual Migrants blog. He often reflects on how student visas in the 1960s were a grueling but proud pathway. He details the heavy pressure to succeed academically in competitive American labs, balancing intense laboratory research at the University of Illinois with the financial frugality required of a young immigrant student surviving on a tight university stipend.

Ultimately, his reflections show that these difficult, freezing early years in Chicago laid the exact foundation for his decades-long career as an FDA chemist and his family’s ultimate realization of the American Dream.