Well-loved Sampaguita matriarch’s life had its cinematic twists and turns
In the 96 years of her life, the Grand Matriarch of Sampaguita Pictures, Azucena Vera Perez, the original “Vera” of the Vera Perez family, took part in events more significant and rapid, more full of hope and despair, than have ever taken place within the same period of time in history.
On Dec. 10, 1941, two days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, she exchanged marriage vows with Dr. Jose R. Perez while Japanese bombs were falling. She would fulfill her vow to stay with him through thick and thin until her husband, destined to become the Starmaker of Philippine cinema, produced more than 300 movies before he succumbed to heart failure on July 28, 1975.
Azucena Vera Perez became president of Sampaguita Pictures and its affiliate companies upon the death of her mother, Dolores Honrado Vera, on May 15, 1980, with all her seven children aiding her in various aspects of the movie industry.
Under the leadership of her eldest child, Manay Ichu, the Vera Perezes have been actively involved in many aspects of the film industry, like the formation of various guilds and the country’s participation in film festivals abroad. Her siblings were similarly occupied, with Gina and her husband, former Speaker Jose de Venecia, involved in enhancing the values of local films for international competitions and building homes for battered wives and homeless children.
At one time, the matriarch was surprised to learn that her eldest sons-in-law, Jose de Venecia and then Senate President Ernesto Maceda, occupied the two next highest posts in accession to the National Patrimony! “Oh, I didn’t know that,” she commented with her typical Mona Lisa smile.
She would be playing cards with her youngest grandchildren, and it would be as serious as playing mahjong with the elders in the family. For all of her femininity, her singular nature was stronger than a man’s and simpler than a child’s.
Article continues after this advertisementLiberation of Manila
Article continues after this advertisement
But, there was one time when she almost faltered. It was during the liberation of Manila by American soldiers, when her then family of four—her husband Doc Perez, their two kids, 3-year-old toddler Marichu and 6-month-old Pepito, and herself—were trapped in Montalban, where they had sought refuge in a friend’s house.
With Japanese soldiers fleeing from the Americans’ assault, Doc Perez had to leave Nene in the locked house (she had the key) with the two kids while he went out to look for transportation to return to Valencia. When he didn’t come back at the appointed time, she fought back her tears and bundled the two kids up so she could carry them with her while looking for her husband, because the Japanese soldiers were coming back to confiscate the house!
All she had was a written statement from a certain Captain Hayasuka, who had befriended the studio management during a film shooting. Luckily, the truck driver who was returning to the Japanese garrison in Manila recognized the handwriting and allowed Mama Nene and her two kids to board the truck.
They arrived in Manila in the afternoon, and it seemed so quiet that, after depositing the three of them inside the house (with Mama Nene again holding the key to a locked house), the truck immediately left to pick up the remaining Japanese army garrisoned inside the studio. Mama Nene prayed and silently cried all night, missing her husband, as well as her Pa and Ma, so terribly.
It was not until the next night that they finally arrived in another truck. She could only gasp, “Thanks be to God!,” when they were all together again and finally opened their locked house to friendly American soldiers, who greeted them with handshakes and hugs in place of machine guns.
I lost my own mother during the war, and hearing Mama Nene tell her story so vividly left me stupefied. From that day on, my heart went out to her, and she became the mother I always wanted to have.
In September 1967, I thought she had forgotten that it was my birthday, but she sent me a letter, instead, which really sealed our friendship, not just as surrogate mother and orphaned employee or film producer and associate—it was a special relationship that revealed how well she could write when inspired by the love of the Almighty. Dated Sept. 27, 1967, the letter read:
Dear Lynne, I’m so happy that the wheel which was set in motion when Doc took his Cursillo last March has really started moving to its glorious destiny—to the love of our Lord. I’ve seen it in your face, that sparkle of contentment after Doc’s Cursillo and the quiet happiness radiating from you upon Vic’s graduation—how much more now, when you yourself will be experiencing the unforgettable little course which both of them and I have experienced—blessed, indeed, is the baby you are carrying in your womb now!
Before, I thought you were tough, but since last March, I’ve discovered the tender heart you have, and for that, I’ve come to love you, not only as someone who gives her all to our business, but as a daughter—imposing and sometimes impersonal outside, but soft and tender inside! Welcome to the fold! Affectionately, Mrs. Perez— rather, Mama Nene.