Here is an excerpt from “The Little Wars of Filemon Sayre,” specifically the beginning section of that short story written by Lemuel M. Torrevillas, whose birthday we celebrated last February 13:
Old Fil decided he was going to take it easy that day. His news supervisor had called in sick earlier that morning so Fil had to take care of the noon news to be read over the air by Michael, the newscaster. Fil did not find taking over his boss’ duty onerous. Not at all. He welcomed making decisions—what items to make the headlines, how stories are ordered according to his private assessment of their importance. And also, this nominally elevates his rank above mere news transcriber. He is editor, he is decider of fate.
DXWB used to have its studios near the center of a Philippine island town of Dumaguete, inside a college campus founded by American missionaries at the turn of the century. But in the 1970s when activism sprouted like bean sprouts in the islands, the American subsidies wilted. In order to survive, DXWB was forced to become a commercial radio station, its personnel shriveled into a skeleton staff, and being unable to pay its rent, it had to move operation to its transmitter site in the middle of rice fields by the sea.
Which suited Fil, because of the precious quiet. One also has an unobstructed view of the mountains to the west and the sparkling sea waves to the east. One hears birdsongs and occasional mooing of a cow in this isolated place far away from everywhere.
But inside this ersatz studios, there’s action.
“It’s twenty five minutes to news time!” squawked the on-board technician over the intercom and Fil Sayre hardly even looked up from his Remington-Rand typewriter at Pio, the technician who took over the console at aquarter to noon.
Fil had finished transcribing the international news transmissions half an hour ago, and now he only had to take care of composing the headlines.
“Twenty-seven,” Fil fired back into the squawk box, haggling, chuckling
“Hahaha,” joined Maria, who had just finished editing her four local news items, turned them over to the newscaster, and was preparing to leave for lunch. She was in college, working part-time; a petite, sneaker-shuffling kid with a high piercing voice. “Hahaha,” she repeated, slamming her steel cabinet shut with a boyish jab.
“Bye,” the technician-on-board said to her over the intercom.
“I’m off,” she announced, her hand doing its characteristic dissolve from an “okay” circle of the thumb and forefinger, metamorphosing into a “that-way” sign. Fil watched her aim at the front door as one would aim a 22-caliber revolver. “Lunch!” she announced
Fil whirled fresh newsprint onto the Remington typewriter roller and made the return carriage go Vhing!
Why does this all sound familiar? Because this story is based on the lives of employees at an actual radio station in Dumaguete. Because DXWB is really DYSR. Because DYSR, beset by financial challenges in the mid-1970s, really did transfer from inside Silliman campus to the middle of a rice field by the sea in Banilad.
Radio station DYSR has always been a significant part of Dumaguete’s contemporary history. It is Dumaguete’s oldest radio station, following the approval of House Bill No. 896 which established it. It started as an AM station owned by Silliman University [SR stands for “Silliman Radio”], as a nonsectarian and non-profit educational station, with a test broadcast on 1 July 1950—beginning with only two hours of broadcasting time in the evening. The station, whose studio and shortwave transmitter were located at the Guy Hall in Silliman campus, would continue test broadcasts, considerably extending its broadcasting hours as well as adding programming, until it was finally inaugurated on 26 August 1950, in time for Silliman’s Founders Day celebration.
Its initial staff included Roy Bell who served as station director, Abby Jacobs as program director, and Eliseo Araneta as engineering department head. The part-time staff was also composed of Silliman faculty, including Mary Reese as music director, Boyd Bell as director of farm programming, and Venancio Aldecoa Jr. as assistant director of farm programming. [Justice Aldecoa would later become President of Silliman University from 1983 to 1986.] In 1954, Dr. Henry Mack took over as administrative director, and while he was not DYSR’s founder, he is rightfully considered as the station’s foremost builder. When Dr. Mack died suddenly in 1964, Constantino Bernardez took over as director, followed by Benjamin Magdamo and Ernesto Songco in succession.
The station was notable for being the first radio station to launch in Dumaguete and the first to be broadcast in shortwave. Literature- and language-wise, it was also notable for being the first to air select programming in English and in Cebuano, and the first to air radio dramas as part of its programming schedule. [Some of these dramas are still archived at the Sillimaniana section of the Robert and Metta Silliman Library.]
It was ordered closed down on 23 September 1972 after Martial Law was proclaimed, reopened on October 20 that year, then closed down again for unclear reasons on 25 January 1973, and finally reopened once more on May 17 that year. Rev. Juan Pia Jr. served as executive director. By 1974, the management was transferred from Silliman to Incom Asia, Inc., although Silliman faculty remained a distinctive part of its staff. Around this time, the station moved both its studios and transmitter from the main Silliman campus to Camp Seasite in Banilad, where it is still currently located. [Camp Seasite would become the perfect complement to Camp Lookout in the foothills of Valencia, also owned by Silliman University.]
The Palanca-winning playwright and fictionist Lemuel Maristela Torrevillas, who studied and then later taught at Silliman, also worked for DYSR as a newscaster. He was born in Anakan, Misamis Oriental in 1949, and at a young age, he volunteered to accompany an older brother on medical and entomological expeditions in the hinterlands of the Mountain Province. But he soon followed the example of his elder sister—the late journalist Domini Torrevillas—and moved to Dumaguete to study at Silliman, where he graduated with a BA in Journalism and AB in Speech and Theatre Arts. [He also earned his MA in English at Silliman.] He was already a huge part of the theatre scene in Dumaguete, acting and directing plays [including King Lear], and serving as technical director of the Luce Auditorium. He would also marry Rowena Tiempo, daughter of Edilberto and Edith Tiempo, who is also a much-awarded writer on her own right.
Lemuel’s experience as newscaster at DYSR would serve as the backdrop to his story, “The Little Wars of Filemon Sayre,” which won third prize for the short story in English at the 1984 Palanca Awards. He had previously won an honorable mention at the 1980 Palanca Awards for full-length play Looking for Edison or What’s the Name of the Guy Who Invented Something, as well as a special prize at the 1981 Palanca Awards for another full-length play, Gateau La Sans Rival.
In “The Little Wars of Filemon Sayre,” Torrevillas chronicles the days of the titular character, an aging news transcriber working at the radio station. Once a respected USAFFE scout during World War II, Fil now fights quieter battles—his “little wars”—within the newsroom, trying to ensure significant news stories get proper attention despite the meddling of his overbearing news supervisor, Max—a gruff and cynical boss who constantly overrides his decisions. One such instance occurs when refugees from Vietnam—or “boat people”—becomes the top story for the noon broadcast. To Fil, the refugees’ suffering is a matter of urgent global concern, but Max, ever dismissive of Fil’s priorities, reshuffles the lineup, demoting the story in favor of political news about Japan’s Prime Minister Nakasone and U.S. President Reagan. Fil, recognizing the futility of resistance, quietly accepts the defeat but plots a small act of defiance: he will sneak the boat people story into the broadcast right after the commercial break, where it might still reach listeners with some impact.
Fil’s battles with Max mirror his larger struggles: the frustration of an aging man whose values no longer align with the shifting priorities of the world around him. His work, once meaningful, is now subject to commercial and political interests. Still, he clings to his principles, engaging in subtle acts of resistance—whether through minor editorial decisions or his unwavering commitment to truth in journalism.
This battle still feels true today.
Torrevillas would later migrate in the early 1990s with wife Rowena to the United States, settling down in Iowa City, where he earned another MA, this time for video art, from the University of Iowa, where he works as facilities manager. Today, he makes video art for his production company Collar ‘Em on the Spot Production. He has written and directed several short films, including Helicaloid in 1990, and Sister Margo Muse of Embers and …In Trento, both released in 2010.
