For most of my life, when people hear my name, they’d invariably ask, “Are you related to the funeraria?”
Well, yes I am. Was. I’m a Quiogue and until a few years ago, our family owned Funeraria Nacional.
It all began when my great-great-grandfather, Feliciano Quiogue started Funeraria Salazar over a hundred years ago at Calle Salazar near Binondo. Back then, Funeraria Salazar offered lavish funeral services for the grand price of P85—including a hearse with four horses, attendants and a metallic coffin.
His son, my great-grandfather, Vicente Quiogue, left the family business to go on his own and opened what eventually became Funeraria Nacional. Funeraria Salazar would later be called Funeraria Quiogue.
Funeraria Nacional handled funeral services for seven of
the country’s presidents—from Manuel Quezon to Ramon Magsaysay, Elpidio Quirino and Diosdado Macapagal, among others. It also serviced some of the country’s oldest families and luminaries including Fernando Poe Sr. and Benigno Aquino Sr.
Cadillac hearse
Nacional had the first Cadillac hearse in the Philippines purchased especially for Quezon. It was also the first to open branches outside Metro Manila and the first to have private chapels.
In the old days, there would be only one large chapel, with several families occupying the four corners of the room. This funeral home also has the distinction of having a caisson, a horse-drawn vehicle used to carry coffins at state or military funerals, notably that of the country’s presidents.
It was the first funeral home as well to have individual air-conditioned chapels, with private family rooms inside.
The original Funeraria Nacional was located on Rizal Avenue beside Manila Grand Opera House, with competitors Funeraria Paz and Funeraria Quiogue just two blocks away on Azcarraga (now Recto).
In the late 1960s, Nacional moved to its current location on Araneta Avenue, Quezon City, and eventually, Paz and Arlington followed. In the 1970s, the business name would officially be changed to Nacional Memorial Homes.
Funeral setup
The business might sound macabre, but there were certain personal benefits to having easy access to its services.
I used to be in film production where schedules can be extremely unpredictable. On those instances when I’d need a ride in the middle of the night, my dad would tell me: “Call the funeraria! The drivers are on 24-hour duty.” Sometimes I’d wait at the office for the driver to get me after a “pickup.”
It also made me the go-to girl in the office when the film outfit needed a funeral setup. The first time I inquired about rates, the funeral parlor office told me rates were higher if an actor stayed inside the coffin. I asked why and was told, “Because it’s meant for one-time use. If an actor lies inside, the lining would get ruined.” OK, that made sense.
When I needed a driver for a particular event or dinner, I could call the funeraria to see who was off-duty. The only drawback was that we’d sometimes be crawling on Edsa, as the driver was unable to shake off his funeral procession mode.
Sunday lunches were spent in my father’s childhood home just above the original funeraria on Avenida. My dad would tell us how they’d have a hard time sleeping at night—no, not because of eerie happenings, but because they could hear the mourners weeping.
Smaller urns
But what I disliked most about being in the funeral business was getting calls from friends, requesting arrangements for their deceased relatives. I was glad to help, yes, but also sorry to hear about their loss. I received one such call on Christmas Day and to this day, I still think of the pain that family goes through every Christmas from that day on.
Over the years, I’ve noted the changes that funeral parlors have undergone. With so many choices and services offered to bereaved families, rates can vary widely, depending on the casket, room and service. Families can also opt for a wake before or after cremation.
There are now coffins designed for those being cremated, with ceremonial caskets used temporarily for the wake, after which the lining is changed so it can be used again. However, some people still opt to buy a casket for their deceased, which they donate to charity after the cremation.
The number of cremations in recent years has risen to about 50 to 55 percent, especially among those from Classes A, B and C. The standard wake and burial is still preferred by those from the lower income class.
Traditional prohibitions
I also saw a wide array of urns to choose from, including small ones if families decide to divide the ashes among themselves. Otherwise, there are few new traditions in the business although fewer people now observe traditional prohibitions, like wearing red at the wake and interment, or making pagpag (which the old folk describe as shaking off the bad vibes from a wake by stopping at a public place, usually a bar or restaurant, before going home).
Contrary to the showdown at the wake featured in some Filipino movies that tackle extramarital affairs, there has hardly been any such scandal in the years that we were in the business. The only one that comes to mind was that of a man who had several relationships after he was widowed.
When he died, all the women came to his wake, but kept themselves in separate corners of the chapel. Thankfully, the women were aware of each other’s existence and managed to act civilly and avoid major scenes at the wake.
‘No repeat business’
As practical and as necessary as it is in our society, the funeral parlor business is not exactly the most glamorous or sought-after business. As my dad used to say, “There’s no repeat business!” Maybe this was why none of my siblings or cousins wanted to go into the business, except for one cousin who took a job at Nacional for a few months.
Perhaps this was also why, almost 10 years ago, the Quiogue siblings decided to sell the business. As for me, the history and legacy of the Quiogue name and Funeraria Nacional are enough. I know that no matter how long it has been, I’d still be asked someday, somehow, “Quiogue? Are you related to the funeral parlor?”