Valhalla was the equivalent of paradaise to Nordic warriors. It was a place where the good, and the just go, when they have breathed their last. And it was just fitting and perhaps ironic, that we found Coching in Valhalla.

It was a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, when the Associate Editor and ourself made the journey to Valhalla, a long narrow street near the Pasay City Hall. Earlier, we had been clued-in about where the man lives. Much later we found ourselves in front of two houses with identical numbers.

One of the houses was done in the old 1920's style. The other one was constructed in the modern manner, and somehow had a look that shouted "this is where Coching lives!" There was something very familiar about it.  And then suddenly we realized what it was. We had seen the house many times in the strips before. It had been used as backgrounds for stories like "Playboy" and "Gigolo" and we knew that Coching just has to be living there. We knocked. A dog barked. Then someone opened the door. It was the man himself.

He motioned us to come in. And with thedog still yapping, we entered the living room. We introduced ourselves. There was a brownout when we were there and the house was starting to heat up. So he bade us go into his workroom, where it was cooler.

The room was cluttered with the usual artist's paraphernalia: drawing boards, a pot of brushes and pens, a set of bound comics where all of his opuses had appeared in. On the wall was hanging a black, sequinned, wide-brimmed sombrero, "That came from Mexico,' said the man. "I brought it home as a souvenir of my visit to that country." We talked of this and that. Then the crucial questions. Why have you stopped comics work? We asked.

"No more", he said. "Everything I have ever  aspired for, I already have. I feel fulfilled. It's time for me to take it easy'.

Coching's idea of taking it easy is going to the golf course for a few rounds. And dancing. The man just loves to dance. Very recently, he found himself the first prize winner of a dancing contest which was held in the Manila Hotel.

And he goes out of the country every two years. "The only cities of the world that I haven't gone to are Peking and Moscow," he informed us.

What does he think of the present crop of illustrators and their work? "Hindi pulido and kanilang mga trabaho," ("Their work is not polished.") he said.

Where did he get the ideas for his stories? "From real life, mostly,' he said. Some of the plots of my stories actually happened to me...you know, almost everything has happened to me...Naranasan kong maghirap, ang libakin ("I experienced hardship and what it was to be poor")....we lived in a barong-barong (shanty) at first.

"But there's nothing that hard work cannot accomplish. That's how I got out of the barung-barong."

Does he have any advice to those who woudl work in comics?

"Kailangan nilang pagandahin ang kanilang trabaho. Kailangan nilang magtiyaga, at magka-ambisyon na paunlarin ang kanilang sining, at ang komiks; kailangan din nilang magsikap. Hindi sa lahat ng panahon ay salapi lang ang dapat isaalang-alang.  ( "They need to make their work beautiful.  They need to be studious, hardworking, carrying with them the ambition to improve their art and the comics.") They appear to look only after themselves, without thought to art, or the readers who patronize the comics."

How does past comic work compare with the present?

"Mas maganda ang gawa noong araw. Ang Golden Age ng komiks ay noong late 50's hanggang 60's. ("They looked better before. The Golden Age of Komiks extended from the late 50's to the 60's." ) And I am saying that not because I worked during those times. You can see for yourself. Get an old copy of Pilipino Komiks and compare it with the best that they have today. There's just no comparison."

Finally we had to go. we had spent the better part of two hours in the Coching residence, had eaten a hearty merienda there, had even talked to beauteous Maridel. Coching's daughter, a portraitist. ANd it was time to leave. Does he have any last words?

"Ikinatutuwa ko ang pakaparito ninyong dalawa," he said. "Ang akala ko ay wala nang nakakaalala sa akin." ("I'm happy that you two visited. I thought no one remembered me anymore.")

The comics appreciators, the fans, other artists, as a matter of fact, almost everybody, would like to look at good comics art, would like to read well-plotted comics stories. What is 'good' can change. Tastes change. Is Coching passe, then?

As long as there are artists who desire to do better, Coching will be relevant. And we would like to believe that all artists have that secret wish, to aspire to produce better work.

Coching provides a living, breathing example of what great work can accomplish, of what the desire to improve can do. Coching is relevant and he will remain so. And he is relevant now, more than at any other time in the past.

Comics artists have a responsiblity to themselves and to the fans - to present nothing save the best that they can offer. What many of them are offering now is hardly the best. Coching's achievements should spur these artists to improve. For if there is any one thing which distinguishes Coching's character it is none other than his devotion to work, which can be emulated.  "Kailangang mahalin nila ang kanilang trabaho," ("They have to love their work.") he said, to improve. As he has.

Is Coching still relevant?

He will always be.

End of Article

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Francisco V. Coching died on September 1, 1998 at the age of 79, after a long and lingering illness.