Marcelo Quiniones Photo Collection - Under the American Sun: Camp Roxas Documentary Film Project

Marcelo Kiming Quiniones

My father, Marcelo Kiming Quiniones, was born Sept. 4, 1910, in Villasis, Pangasinan, Philippines. He came to Guam from Hawaii in 1945 as a Camp Roxas laborer through the Dillingham Corporation. Although some of his friends thought he was crazy to leave Hawaii, Dad was adventurous and volunteered to help rebuild Guam after World War II.

My father's life was a big adventure from the time he was just 14 years old when he decided to leave the Philippines. He sold his most valuable possession --- his carabao --- and used the money to pay for his shipfare. His mother and sister did not know of his plans until it was too late. They begged him to stay but he was determined to find a better life for himself than his life in the barrio. So, he used borrowed identification papers of his older cousin named Valentino and was able to leave the Philippines at the young age of 14.

In Hawaii, he only earned $1 a day as a sugar or pineapple plantation worker and often went hungry. He had to save money to send home to his mother and sister every month. To supplement his meager earnings, he and his friends would often go fishing or hunting for doves in the jungles of Hawaii to eat. This foraging in the jungles was a common practice among his co-plantation workers. Although it was a hard life, from his stories he seemed to enjoy the freedom he had at that young age. According to my cousin, Zina Garrido Toves, when Dad sometimes went hungry, he would walk out of a restaurant with a toothpick and pretend that he had just eaten a big meal.

When Dad first arrived on Guam, the huge Dillingham warehouse that stocked items for Camp Roxas was in such disarray. His proudest accomplishment was organizing everything so items could easily be found.

Dad eventually became friends with my uncle, Francisco Borja Garrido (Familian Emu), who was driving a taxicab on the Camp Roxas-Agana route on weekends for extra income. Through my uncle's sponsorship, Dad became involved in various Agana Heights construction jobs and village activities where he met my mother, the lovely Lucia "Chia" Teresa Borja Garrido, then 17 years old. It was love at first sight for Dad, who was 33 at the time. They married a year after they met and settled down in Agana Heights "Tutujan" to raise two children, Alfred and Marcia. He also learned to speak and understand Chamorro.

In the early days of their marriage, Mom and Dad often went to Camp Roxas after work. They went to the movie theater every Sunday and frequently ate meals at the camp because Dad's friends cooked his favorite foods. Dad was known as a barber and often cut the hair of the men, a skill he learned in Hawaii.

As Camp Roxas was gradually closing down in the 1970s, Dad was asked at the last minute to stay as a night security guard. One of the very last men left in the empty Camp Roxas, he told stories of hearing music and Jeeps starting on their own. Although quite scared, he would bravely investigate, often finding nothing. Finally, he would just ignore the noise as part of the history of Camp Roxas.

After Camp Roxas finally closed, with the help of Alfredo Tomas Bordallo (husband of my aunt, Louisa "Chang" Borja Garrido), Dad opened one of the first barbershops in Agana, which was eventually destroyed by Typhoon Karen in 1962. He never opened another barbershop, but continued to be a barber for most of his life, and was the favorite choice of customers.

Many of Dad's Camp Roxas friends became his "compares" as they also married and had their own children on Guam. To this day, my parents count over 20 godchildren of the men that Dad befriended in Camp Roxas.

After a long illness, Dad died in 1988 after a good marriage with my mother. He is survived by two children, Alfred and myself, and six grandchildren. My brother, who resides in Virginia, is project manager at

the U.S. Mint in Washington, D.C. I am a long-time educator (middle school level) for the Guam Public School System .

- - - By Marcia Quiniones Martir, daughter