The Tony Ambassador

It was during a crisis in his life that I first met Ambassador Antonio L. Cabangon-Chua, or “Tony” to many. His conglomerate, the AMB-ALC Group, a highly diversified concern, had just purchased the Macadore Building in Dagupan City. His company won the bidding fair and square, and had paid hundreds of millions in purchase price and taxes to the government. But politics being what it is in this country, the then vice mayor of the city questioned the deal. Lawsuits left and right were filed. The kinks were ironed out eventually, but I digress.

I was recommended to Tony by the late expansive media man, Tony Calvento (whom the Ambassador fondly called “Tabachoy”), and from that first meeting, “Amba” (because he was Ambassador to Laos during President Arroyo’s time) and I hit it off quite splendidly. I discovered we shared the same twisted sense of humor, an old-school orientation in manners, and a taste for the finer things in life (including carousing with nubile nymphets amidst song and wine).

We would see each other often thereafter, sometimes professionally, but more often socially. He would invite me to celebrations, frequently, asking me to perform his favorite songs. In the times that the merriment was more intimate, he would regale me with stories of his colorful life.

I found out that he had to lift himself up by the bootstraps from a young age, selling odds and ends to make ends meet. From such modest beginnings did he build an empire that intersected several industries. He used to tell me, “My secret is in giving our people services from cradle to grave.”

And, indeed, his interests were multitude: banking (Citystate Savings), media (Aliw Broadcasting, Business Mirror, Pilipino Mirror and RPN 9), car sales (Isuzu Gencars), health and life insurance (Fortune Insurance), and hospitality (CityState and Opera Hotels), among many. I once kidded him that since he also owned the Flower Group of motels (Orchid, Dahlia, etc.) and Eternal Gardens Memorial Park then his services extended not only from the cradle to the grave, but “from erection to resurrection.” He loved that joke and would repeat it to his friends.

One thing about Amba that stood out was his humility. Although a multi-billionaire business mogul by any standard, he remained low profile and unassuming his entire life. Never did I see him flaunt his billions. Never did I see him high-handed towards his employees. In fact, whenever I asked him for some information or action to be taken in connection with the cases I handled for him, it would surprise me at first that he would be the one to call me back, saying, “Attorney, magre-report lang ako sa iyo doon sa ipinag-utos mo.” Such a noble gesture from someone so senior to me in status and wealth could not but leave me humbled. That was Amba: he could be a father and a friend, and he never made me feel that he was my boss.

Amba died eight years ago, the same month and year as my father, making me feel that I had lost two fathers. But as his family and friends celebrated his birth anniversary last 30 August, we were renewed in our realization that he left behind a legacy that will stand the test of generations, as he had brought up his children so well that, from all indications, they will propel the businesses that he started to new heights. In that sense, Amba now belongs to the ranks of the immortals.

The life lessons I learned from him shall also endure. “Every person, rich or poor, has only 24 hours in a day; it’s what you do with those 24 hours that makes the difference.” “The quality of your life depends on the quality of your mind.” And the famous “Kapag magpapalipad ka ng saranggola, huwag mo nang hintaying humangin. ITAKBO MO NA!”

These are lessons that I repeat to my children often. Lessons that only a Tony Ambassador could give.