#EDSA30

Thirty years ago, I remember my parents watching the evening news on TV-- I noticed it looked different that night as the newscasters were informally dressed-- then suddenly my parents erupted in joy. "Yaaaay! Wala na si Marcos!" I was told to hurriedly wear my only yellow shirt (I didn't like it because it was too small for me) and the whole family drove from Las Piñas to Manila. There was a lot of ruckus and blaring of horns along the road, people in yellow holding up Ninoy/Cory signs and flags. My dad drove until there were so many people that we cannot drive anymore, cheered with a few people, then we headed back home via Coastal Road. Along the way, we stopped at a lechon manok stall that was still open and had a midnight snack (not sure what time it was, but when we left the house it was already past dinner so it must've been late). While we were eating a group of soldiers, in fatigues and brandishing their arms, came in. Seeing us in yellow, they immediately smiled and flashed the "laban" sign of the anti-Marcos opposition. They chitchatted with my parents while I examined their rifles and uniforms. They ate quickly and left before we finished our meal, giving my parents a Philippine flag badge-- the one soldiers place on their uniforms-- as a memento. After our lechon manok snack we drove home, got cleaned, and slept.