The family of Fito Garcia hadn't constructed a shelter, figuring the ground floor of their sturdy house offered sufficient protection for its ten inhabitants. It didn't. As soon as the battle reached their area, a direct hit literally shattered their home. In the thick of the battle they had to rush out into an open corner of their garden, where the Grim Reaper picked out his victims, threading here and there and leaving one beside the other almost unscathed.

Shrapnel from one hit seriously wounded his wife, Adela, and killed her brother Vicente. Fito was practically unscathed, as was his mother-in-law and Adela's sister, Chona. They had with them a young lad of about five, Carmen's son, whose father was in the provinces. The boy's grandfather was wounded and placed on a portable bed beside them. The lad hid under the bed and survived; his mother died beside him.

Fito carried his almost unconscious wife towards the approaching Americans, finding them and managing to get Adela into Santo Tomas in time to save her life. Adela's father also made it to hospital later but never recovered, succumbing 30 days later. In his desperate moments Fito was a hero like Manolo, only luck was on his side.

Five people might have been saved and his wife spared her brush with death if another family had allowed them into their shelter. But it was "too crowded," they said, wanting to preserve space for lying down. The family even refused to shelter two nieces or nephews for the same reason. It's only natural that there's some bad blood between some families today. Manila is full of families who shared their shelters beyond almost human endurance. Gabby's, for example, was so crowded that you couldn't move unless a few stepped out, and although the log roof caught fire, those inside were completely spared. The Celso Lobregats also had sixty in their shelter at one time, and sardines never had it worse, but all were spared.

...ooOoo...