Al’s Character
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Length: :36 A friend for several decades, Lou Syquia calls Al an urban saint.
SAVE THE DATE
Al Robles tribute
July 25, 1-5 PM
at Glide Memorial Church, 330 Ellis Street, San Francisco. Check back for details.
Al Robles tribute
July 25, 1-5 PM
at Glide Memorial Church, 330 Ellis Street, San Francisco. Check back for details.
Navigation
Links
- A Song for Ourselves blog post
- Al Robles: The Carabao Trail
- Author Scoop blog post
- Emil Amok blog post
- Fil Am Arts blog post
- Filipina Veritas blog post
- Filmmaker Curtis Choy’s Website
- Haiku for Manong Al
- Hip Hop Lives blog post
- Hyphen Magazine blog post
- Kapisanan Philippine Centre
- Manilatown Heritage Foundation
- Manzanar Committee
- OKIR blog post
- Poor Magazine: Poverty Hero Al Robles
- Race Wire blog post
- Rappin with Ten Thousand Carabaos in the Dark
- Tony Robles
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on 03 Oct 2008 at 9:30 pm 1.Evelyn said …
10/3/08 this is my first time looking at this site. wow!
on 04 May 2009 at 1:20 am 2.Hugh Patterson said …
Uncle Al was a man who paved the road for so many of us who wanted to write and create. He was the brother of the man I consider a father (thus the name Uncle Al). Life will not be a sweet with him not here, but the road he paved for us, allows us an endless journey…..Hugh
on 09 May 2009 at 3:53 am 3.Joselyn Ignacio said …
Dear Al,
I’m writing this letter to you because writing poetry is difficult. The lines turn into streams of tears and words get lodged in my throat.
But poetry is your other language. It is another vehicle for your ceaseless spirit, jazz compassion, and mountain chanting.
Hey, wasn’t it just yesterday that we sat shoulder to shoulder in the front row before you read your poems and then we stood together in the back of the room while others read?
You always telling me stories and cracking me up, nudging me softly with your hand, your face beaming. You know, Al, I never told you this but you always made me feel like I was such a damn good writer—“a better writer than whoziewhats,” you would say. That meant a lot to me; I sat my fat butt on those laurels for years. Now you know.
I see you now, Al.
You are always where I can find you in the KSW basement of the I-Hotel; walking the streets of Chinatown leading to Old St. Mary’s; holding court at Portsmouth Square; whirling energy at cultural centers; your talk story and love of food at Flip parties; your Zen-sense at public libraries; you bring the mountains on the backs of ten thousand carabous in the Watsonville farmlands, in the Alaskan fisheries.
Always, Al. Always, Al. Always My Kuya Al.
Mountains
Manilatown
Manongs
Always Al.
PS. When you reach the other side of the nebulae with hair and beard like spun silver, let me know what you are up to.
Love,
Joselyn Ignacio
on 10 Sep 2009 at 3:25 am 4.Jean Vengua said …
Joselyn:
Your words are so beautiful, and such a fitting and heartfelt remembrance of Al.
Salamat,
Jean