When I was younger, I did not really understand why my dad had to be away from home at times. He had to see the projects implemented by DENR in far flung areas.

As I grew older, I understood what it was to be a forester… I always participated in class whenever we talked about forests, reforestation, deforestation, and the like.

When my dad left his job, he formed GRINGO (Green Initiated NGO). I was in high school preparing to leave for college then. He spent most of his time with the NGO in Karao, Bokod, Benguet. I felt bad that I did not get to see my dad at a regular basis since he had to be in Karao most of the time. I did not know what projects they were implementing there.

At times I got mad at him for not spending some time home with my little brother (who was still a toddler at that time) and sister since I was far from home.

I miss the times that I could just call on him and tell him my problems or when I needed more allowance… my dad and I were like buddies. I could speak my mind to him… I even tell him about my crushes during our early trips to the school (high school)… he would jokingly say “ tell them to go to the house and I will box them…” My dad was over protective to us.

… but then as we grew older, I heard him say to some people “Kababain nu awan ti agarem ken dagitoy anak ko” (It would be shameful if nobody would court my daughters)… that statement from him made me laugh…

June 23, 1998. During my second year in college, I experienced the loss of a father. I was kilometers away from home when I received a call from an aunt and an uncle. They called about five times before they eventually told me about my father’s fate… They told me that he met an accident but was in the hospital… I thought otherwise. I cried and felt my world melt…

That afternoon, I was speechless but I was able to bring myself to my classes. I went home early to wait for our relatives who would fetch us… we played cards to put the bad news out of my mind. I opened the TV and guess what? The news update reported about the accident my dad was in and said that 12 people died… my hopes of seeing my dad in the hospital thinned.

I could not sleep. All my memories with my last moments with my dad came rushing on my mind. At last my lolas, uncle and aunties arrived. They were wearing black… we all cried when we saw each other.

June 24, 1998. We were in Baguio at about 8 am. I was not able to sleep during the trip. I was crying all the time. We were in Daclan, Bokod about 11pm. I ran to the house and I could not yet believe what I saw. My dad was in a coffin.

I do not want to remember him that way. As I look at the article published at Midland Courier (July 5, 1998). I eventually understood what my dad was doing away from home.

I quote, “The residents and elders of Karao established a living monument for those who perished in a road mishap… baptizing a recently forested area as The Nelson Trees, named after the late Forester Nelson Kollin Fernando… This is to honor and acknowledge Nelson whose environmental group planted more than 300,000 seedlings to reforest areas… By calling the forested area The Nelson Trees, the Karao community will constantly be reminded of the importance of the late forester’s mission, Mr. John Beray said…”