An interview with Ditas, socialite of a bygone era

I’ve done a lot of interviews before when I was still active in the papers, doing news and feature stories, and they always leave me gasping for breath as I take down hurried notes in my illegible scrawl which, later, I cannot read. So I have to rely on my memory much of the time, And being poor of memory, I try to retain a picture of the subject in my mind, imagine how they speak and gesture, listening to their words in my mind, hoping that I can at least do justice to my subjects. So far, not one of them have accused me of putting the wrong words in their mouth or painting a bad picture of them. Well, at least, I’ve always tried to be fair and sympathetic to them,

My subject this afternoon is one of the few living witness of the period in Ormoc’s history that may be considered the starting point in its modernization. This is was the heyday of the sugar industry when the sugar mill in Brgy. Ipil was incessantly churning out refined sugar and making sugar cane planters rich beyond their wildest dreams. At the turn of the 20th century, Ormoc produced abaca, with much of its lands planted to the crop. When the sugar mill was built in the '20s, the lands were converted into sugar cane plantations, following the example of Negros island.

Into this emerging scene arrived one day in June 1952 a beautiful 19-year old wife of a 23-year old scion of a Negrense sugar baron, Carlos Rivilla. Ditas, as she was popularly called then, recalls they were suddenly shipped here from Manila to take over the management of the sugar mill in Ipil by her father-in-law. They had to learn everything from the scratch since the former manager, a cousin of her husband, had to leave in the middle of the milling season, following a serious disagreement with the owners.

The 19-year old took things in stride and began organizing the social life of Ormoc starting in Ipil, with her much older matrons of sugar planters in tow. She recalls they converted the tennis court of the sugar mill compound into dance floors where they did the boogie and the tango, while their husbands feasted on food and drinks, leaving the dancing to their more fun-loving wives.

I did not finish the interview but promised to come back. After all, she is an important link to that bygone era of the ‘50s and the ‘60s when life in Ormoc was at a high point and the future seemed assured. I’m sure she has lots of stories to tell, some of which may not find their way to the history book I’m trying to finish, but which might provide ample material for another book. One never knows. I’m crossing my fingers.

Blood glucose monitor