A visit to Horace Higgins Hall and the PNR Station in Caloocan

This is the inaugural entry in My Neighborhood, a series in which our writers feature interesting places to visit in their neighborhoods, districts or cities.

A golden glow spread across the open field. The sun beamed through the bushes. The air was crisp. A horse-drawn carriage cantered past.

“Apresúrese, chófer! El tren sale en nada! (Hurry up, driver! The train is leaving soon!)” yelled one of the passengers, a Spanish woman in her 40s.

“No vayas tan rápido! Me estás asustando! (Don't go so fast! You're scaring me!)” cried her husband as he clutched the seat rail.

The indios who were having a picnic under the shade of a tree had a bit of fun when they saw the two. The worker atop the carabao-drawn sledge almost fell down laughing.

Tutuban was the center of festivities. Foreigners swarmed around as a brass band played. It was the 24th of November in 1892, and the 195.4-kilometer Ferrocarril de Manila-Dagupan railway had just opened.

Photo: pnr.gov.ph

At the terminus, the locomotive was preparing to pull out. Coal was fed to the furnace and steam gathered in the boiler.

The laughable Spanish couple was able to make it, and joined the other privileged passengers on the train, which wound its way to Caloocan, where it took on more passengers. Most of them were well-off merchants who were already daydreaming about rapid shipment of farm produce.

In a few minutes, the train left the station with a trail of smoke.

On the trail

Fast forward to the present. The Ferrocarril de Manila-Dagupan has become the Philippine National Railways (PNR) that we know now. Over the years, lines were added and disconnected in times of war and relative peace.

A musing: If the station in Tutuban was transformed into an air-conditioned shopping center, how did modernization change the station in Caloocan?

Then came an epiphany. The railroad tracks were part of my childhood. I spent my years from kindergarten to sixth grade at La Consolacion College, the one beside San Roque Cathedral.

Whether on a jeepney or a school bus, we had to go past the railroad track. I also remember braving waist-deep water with my grandmother while going past it due to massive flooding on 10th Avenue.

Perusing through the history of my city these past few weeks, I came across some exchanges about a certain Horace Higgins Hall.

But words and pictures were not enough. I had to pay a visit.

Armed with a ballpoint pen and a budget smartphone, I traversed Avenida Rizal and took the jeepney with that familiar "Dulo" sign. Mind you, you will not find any place named Dulo on the map. It only means the ride will reach the terminus of 10th Avenue that cuts across A. Mabini Street.

It was the 24th of November. It had to be. If I had to visit a heritage site, it had to be on a red letter day.

When I saw the railroad tracks, I had to alight. Signs of change already hit me. The plaza is now a crowded wet market.

Vendors and homes line the railway near the PNR Station in Caloocan. Photos: Mark Angeles

I approached a man in a white T-shirt, perched in front of the market. “Manong, saan po ang Caloocan Depot?” I asked.

Manong threw a curious, or maybe a clueless look.

“'Yung dulo po ng tren,” I tried to explain.

“Pasok ka roon. Lakad ka diretso. Sa dulo,” he said, directing me to a street entrance. With his aura, he could pass as a barangay captain.“Salamat po!” I replied before walking towards the street under the arch that said "Barangay 64."

Rail against privatization

I arrived at the terminus of my trek. A tricycle driver was waiting in front of a gate.

I asked him if I was already at the PNR Station. He said yes. I asked him where I could find Horace Higgins Hall. He pointed out the entrance to me.

Like a bat out of hell, I thanked him and darted to the gate. Nobody was around, only vehicles parked at random places.

Horace Higgins Hall, right before my very eyes! There was the balcony and the wooden door. The Roman columns were already painted baby blue. My hands were shaking when I took my smartphone from my backpack and swiped for the camera.

I was ready to take a snapshot of the front view when a security guard called to me. He said I was not allowed to take pictures. And please, I have to go with him. I have to talk to another guard at the guard house.

I went with him without a struggle. Inside the depot, another guard approached me.

“Bawal kumuha ng pictures dito, ser! Kailangan n’yo munang pumunta sa Tutuban,” he explained in a friendly tone.

I told him I just wanted to take pictures because I was going to write a travelogue of sorts. I was not going to take pictures of the six posts for the NLEX/SLEX skyway that is already being built.

He refused and repeated his script. He even said that everything I wanted to take pictures of, I would find in Tutuban.

I told him I was writing the travelogue for GMA News Online. He said he saw Kara David’s Daang Bakal (an I-Witness documentary episode). I told him that Investigative Documentaries also made a feature story about the station. “Si Malou Mangahas, ser!” he said.

For the nth time, I pleaded that I just want to take three pictures of the rusty rails piled by the side of the guard house, the dilapidated cargo express trailers parked at the railway near us (at an angle perfect for a snapshot), and the front view of the Horace Higgins Hall.

Again, he refused.

“Bakit po bawal kumuha ng pictures, manong?” I told him I saw a blog with pictures of the trailers and the hall.

“Fan ako ng GMA,” he said. “Hindi talaga puwede. Magpaalam muna kayo sa Tutuban, ser. Mahigpit sila.”

I eventually learned that a security guard had been fired because he allowed someone to take pictures of the area without seeking permission from the admin in Tutuban.

It was the 123rd anniversary of the opening of the railway line.

“May pumunta na rito kaninang umaga, manong? Ngayon po kasing November 24 ang first time na dumaan dito ang PNR train papuntang Dagupan. Noong 1892 po.”

He said no one came. No history student. No heritage conservationist. “Baka sa Tutuban po may program,” he said.

I realized that every inquiry was forwarded to the lords in Tutuban. “Mabilis naman sila mag-approve, sir.”

It had been a while since he saw people visiting the area, taking pictures of the area. Were requests turned down because heritage conservationists and some government institutions are railing against the NLEX/SLEX project?

When I went back to the other guard and told him that I had to go to Tutuban for permission, and considered going back the next day, he said, “Lahat ng pumupunta roon [Tutuban], hindi na bumabalik dito.”

Railroading privatization

Near the platform of the Kalookan PNR Station, with the dilapidated cargo express and the Skyway visible in the background.

Before I left, I asked manong guard if I could just observe the place; maybe sketch the area in my mind.

Gazing at the majestic beauty of Horace Higgins Hall, I figured that if I took a picture of it, the gargantuan blue construction equipment with "Leighton" in huge letters emblazoned on it would look like a photobomber. We know what happened to the Rizal monument and Torre de Manila.

To my right, the construction site behind the high walls was once a community of urban poor. To my left, the construction workers started to come out. They occupy the area with the locomotive mechanics. Caloocan Station was transformed into a maintenance workshop exactly a century after the Manila-Dagupan line inauguration.

Horace Higgins Hall stood up to modernization. But who knows how long it will continue to hold out against the tide? The Caloocan railway itself was a witness to American atrocities during the Filipino-American War. The site reminds us that the sun shone in Caloocan and it will always shine even through the darkest of days. — BM, GMA News