Mateo Manibusan Sablan

A man who lived a simple life. Through hell, and back… but always filled with love and dreams.

Mateo Manibusan Sablan (September 21, 1932 – April 15, 2015), a devoted son, a loyal brother, a dependable friend, an amazing uncle, and a proud citizen of the good ol’ U. S. of A.

Mateo was his Christian name, but he was known to most as Matt, or by his many nieces, and nephews as Uncle Matt… with the exception of his mother who used his full Christian name (loudly) when she was upset with him.

To many of his nieces and nephews, he was more than an uncle… he was a true friend. For some, their first best friend. He would entertain them for hours playing his harmonica, or guitar. And he could often be found drawing, or whittling little objects with his buck knife and found pieces of wood- which he would later gift when he felt it might help lift the spirits of one of the many little ones he watched over. And after the little ones grew-up, or moved away, or got married and had families of their own, he continued to do the things he loved for as long as he could. Because even though no one ever really taught Matt how to do the things he did, or paid much attention at times when he did them, it’s clear that it was inherently natural for him to have those outlets… those skills were a gift, a way to feed his soul. A soul that remained intact despite the devastating and unfair turn of events that would shape Matt’s life…

When he was about 8 years old, Matt was outside feeding his chickens when Japanese warplanes started bombing and strafing all around him- World War II had begun. The horrible chaos, confusion, and terribly loud noise was not only overwhelming, but also debilitating to his innocent 8 year old mind. And as a result, his mind seemed to retreat into the darkest region of his universe where a young boy, such as he, would seek safety… he was traumatized.

And as if that weren’t enough for a child to live through, he suffered another horrifying, and almost fatal incident with warplanes several years later… this time, they were American warplanes clearly marked with the U.S. Star Symbol. And as he waved enthusiastically at what he thought were “friendly” planes, they fired and tried to cut him down as he tried to make his way back from the makeshift outdoor kitchen and into the dug-out where his family took refuge. The confusion was incomprehensible. He often asked (even later in life), “Why did everyone want to kill him?” And no one was ever able to give him an answer that would refute those facts, or alleviate his deeply entrenched suspicion and fear. So again, his mind sought safety and retreated into that dark region of his universe… and it is there that he would remain for the rest of his life.

After the war, Matt advanced physically in years, but unfortunately his mental development remained stunted. His young boy’s mind refused to come out of the deep recess where he felt safe. And during that time, the school system had no place for someone like him, so he was forced to face the world without having any professional help and to cope with what he had, however he could. And he did… with a playful spirit and a loving heart.

During his prime physical years, though still relatively deficient in traditional education, Matt managed to be gainfully employed by the commercial port of Guam. Initially a stevedore, loading and unloading cargo ships, he worked his way up to the position of checker, which he held for a couple of years until his family migrated to California, after the passing of his father.

In his formative years, Matt was a devoted companion to his mother and never strayed too far. She, not being a culinary enthusiast herself, encouraged him to learn how to cook simple meals. Luckily for her, he enjoyed cooking and she enjoyed eating- a perfect arrangement for many years.

There is no question; Matt had a difficult journey on this Earth… to hell, and back. But the love he had for his family never faltered. And their love and care for him, never seized- even during the most trying of times.

Mateo, Matt, Uncle Matt will remain in the hearts and thoughts of all those he touched with his love and generous spirit.

May God bless his soul. And may he rest in peace.