
Today, I heard a story that broke my heart—a story of a good man whose life was cut short by someone else’s reckless choice. Tatay, a beloved taxi driver in Baguio, Philippines, had spent 40 years behind the wheel, navigating the city’s winding roads with care and precision. In all those years, he never once got into an acc!dent, a testament to his skill and dedication. Day and night, rain or shine, he drove to provide for his family, raising them through honest, hard work. I can picture him, hands steady on the wheel, weaving through Baguio’s misty streets, always putting safety first.
After four decades of tireless service, Tatay finally retired. His children, grateful for his sacrifices, urged him to rest. “You don’t need to work anymore, Dad,” they told him. “We’ll take care of you now.” For the first time, Tatay could enjoy the fruits of his labor—finally resting, finally living. I imagine him sitting on his porch, maybe sipping coffee, watching the sunrise over the mountains, a quiet smile on his face as he embraced this new chapter.
But today, tr@gedy struck. A 22-year-old driver, fresh from a despedida party, made a fatal decision. Hungover and sleepy, he fell asleep at the wheel. His car veered out of control, cra$hing into Tatay with deva$tating force. The impact was so severe that it thr:e:w Tatay’s b0dy int0 a wall. He didn’t survive. A man who had driven safely for 40 years, who had just begun to enjoy his well-earned retirement, was gone in an instant—taken by someone else’s carelessness.
Tatay wasn’t just a taxi driver. He was a father, a grandfather, a husband—a man who gave his life to providing for his family while keeping others safe on the road. He survived decades of challenges, only to lose his life because someone thought it was okay to drive dr:u:nk, to drive tired, to drive when they weren’t fit to be behind the wheel. One moment, one wrong choice, and a good man was taken from his loved ones forever.
Shared by Vana Ventura Parchamento, this heartbreaking story isn’t just about loss—it’s a urgent plea. Don’t drive dr:u:nk. Don’t drive sleepy. Don’t drive if you’re not okay. Because somewhere, someone’s Tatay is just trying to make it home. Let’s honor Tatay’s memory by making safer choices, ensuring no other family has to endure such a preventable tr@gedy.