The unearthing of ancient relics—and occasionally human bones—never failed to catch my eye during my reporting days. I wasn't always free to cover digs, but whenever one opened up, I fought to be there—especially in 2015, for what was billed as the largest excavation in the islands' history.
Once, at the Garapan site where Best Sunshine planned its casino, a routine recovery nearly turned us into artifacts ourselves when workers uncovered an unexploded sea mine. Word spread quickly, and the entire business district went on high alert. Bomb disposal experts had to defuse the mine and haul it off, turning the area into an active security zone.
The Marianas Variety team arrived right alongside our rivals from the Saipan Tribune. My pulse raced as though I had downed four cups of espresso. Part of me understood the danger, but the urge to land the front-page shot won out. We scouted the perimeter behind the ABC Store, working our way around to the back lot of what used to be the old Samoan housing along the beach.
Spotting a mound of sand, I climbed up to look over the tall security fence. Through my 18–135mm lens, the scene came into focus: tall, broad-shouldered men in khaki shirts and olive shorts hunched over the ordnance. I held down the shutter, snapping frame after frame in a mix of pure adrenaline and quiet dread.
The moment I knew I had the shot, I motioned to our crew to slip away. "We got it," I whispered.
Moments later, military sirens wailed down Beach Road as the convoy sped off with the mine. Back at the office, as reporters scrambled on the phone with sources, our editor, Zaldy, posted the breaking story online with my photo front and center. I felt the sudden, quiet thrill of a tennis player watching a crosscourt winner clip the baseline—ecstatic, relieved, and intact.
Assignments like that were rare, but whenever trouble brewed, the Variety newsroom stepped up and delivered.
No responses yet. Tell me what this brought back for you.