Army and Navy Club - circa 1902 or 1911 depending on which history you read.

After the surrender of Japan, the Army and Navy Club was still standing.  Its neighbor The Elks Club was not so lucky with a bombed-out building.  Before the Japanese occupation, it was an exclusive club for Americans only and no Filipinos were allowed except for servants.   From the mainland of American, the practice reached their colony in Asia.   After July 1946, when the Philippines became independent from America, the exclusive reputation of the club continued making the entrance of a Filipino a mouth-gaping sight.   Filipino soldiers who manned the entrance carefully inspected visitors who were probably mostly Caucasian.  The usual types of visitors.  Until that one day and many times after that when my brother and me at 8 and 10 years old , together with our father, a Filipino and a US Army Lt. Col., stopped at the gate.   We were going to go swimming in the pool.  The look on the soldiers' faces were unforgettable.  They looked at Dad, then at John and me, back to Dad and us kids.  The first soldier's eyes bulged out and he called his fellow soldier to look at us.  He asked for my Dad's name and rank but still would not let us in.  Patiently at first, we waited at the gate while whoever was in charge was called.  We waited in the car for many minutes until Dad was allowed to go in to explain his rank, service and show his US Army ID.  Unless he could show further proof, we were not allowed to go in and that was that.    I remember John and I being rushed back to the car, Dad probably fuming and the driver speeding back to the house.  With military documents, probably his honorable discharge papers from the US Army, he went back to the club with John and me in tow.  We were in our bathing suits and ready to go into that swimming pool.   What was the problem all about my young mind thought.   The next thing I knew we were walking down a sloping cement walk under the hot sun towards the pool.  There was a snack bar at one end of the pool made of dark wood and nipa.  Parallel to the pool was an unobstructed view of Manila Bay.  I remember a constant breeze coming in from the sea cooling my wet bathing suit as I ate my banana split .  All the waiters were Filipinos and they quietly stared at us.  They stared at me and at John.  It was the kind of stare that wants to believe what they are seeing.  Whenever I looked at them, they were staring.  Their eyes did not turn away.  This went on every time we went to the club to go swimming.  But it did not last too long.  As we became familiar visitors, the Filipino soldiers at the entrance gate began to give us their biggest smile and best salute to Dad.  They told him that they were proud to have a Filipino officer coming to the club.  It was rare.   The waiters at the snack bar also began to smile and even tried to talk to us in English.  Glad that they did.  At that time, age 10, my Tagalog was very rusty.