I removed all the items from the box and placed them on the kitchen table- this is what he left. I went to put the box on the floor, but noticed it still had some weight. I looked in the box again and what in the world: very cleverly placed so that it could not be detected was a false bottom to the box a few inches from the actual bottom.
Under the false bottom was a small metal box which I could not get open, and I found that unusual. Also there was a bunch of sheets of paper rolled up. Phil was known in the family for saying “Life is an adventure if you let it be.” Phil was curious, passionate, he was a nice and good-natured person, lots of jokes, but I never knew him to be interested in fiction. You can imagine my surprise when I un-rolled the papers read what he had written. All we know of ujEwo has blossomed from a bunch of scribble on those pages.
Copyright 2016 T2T3. All Rights Reserved.
The bulk of this story is the words of another which are presented largely as I received them. I consider myself to be the chronicler of these stories and will present my notes as such. When I was 36, the news came that my brother, Philip Edward, had been in a car accident in the Philippines. It was bad.
Philip had been in a car accident which totaled his car and him in the process. The other people had simply driven away. There are no hospitals as we know them in the Philippines. He lay with critical injuries for several hours before someone came upon him on the road, put him in their backseat, drove to an American military hospital and dropped him on the steps. It was too late, and he died a week later at the age of 26.
For reasons unknown to me, as he was dying, Phil had told my mom to give me a box.In this cardboard box, perhaps a half-meter square, were personal objects of no special significance to anyone but Phil.