Six months ago, I stumbled on social media an announcement about the upcoming film being shot in Naga City. The movie Padamlágan centers around the tragic events of 1972, focusing on the collapse of the Colgante Bridge, a significant incident that profoundly impacted not only Naga City but the entire Bicol Region. The story aims to capture not only the disaster itself but also the emotional turmoil and resilience of the people affected by this heartbreaking event. With its rich historical context, the film which will be featured in movie screens in Naga City this coming February 2026, promises to offer a poignant portrayal of a pivotal moment in the city’s history.

This movie not only brings back a flood of memories about the tragic event but also evokes sentimental nostalgia for my childhood days on that small street, previously known as Colgante Street (now called Santoja Street). Every corner of that neighborhood holds a piece of my past, filled with laughter, friendships, and the innocence of youth. The familiar sights and sounds of my old neighborhood remain etched in my mind, intertwined with both joy and sorrow, telling the story of a time that shaped who I am today. I grew up there alongside my Tibay relatives, from my elementary school days at Naga Parochial School to my high school years at the Ateneo de Naga.

I have vivid recollection of my school days, when my cousins and I would cross the Colgante Bridge, then made of solid timber planks, at least four times a day to or from school. It was a simple yet essential part of our journey. However, in the turbulent weather of the 1960s, the wooden bridge succumbed to the fury of a typhoon and ultimately collapsed, leaving us without a reliable way to cross the Naga River.

We had to seek alternative means of transportation to continue our daily routine. Riding a wooden bangka to cross the river became the lifeline for the local community. Each ride cost 10 cents then, but the experience was rich with the sounds of the water splashing against the hull and the feeling of camaraderie as we shared our journey with fellow students and neighbors. Sometimes, we ended up having water-splashing fights with other passenger boats.

The replacement Colgante bridge was constructed using steel trusses complemented by wooden slab floors. This time, the design eliminated any central supporting posts, resulting in a purely suspended structure. As a consequence, however when people walked on or jogged across the bridge, a noticeable sway was perceptible, creating an exhilarating sensation that heightened the experience.

Every year, on the third Saturday of September, the community eagerly anticipates the vibrant fluvial procession of Our Lady of Peñafrancia that gracefully glides beneath the Colgante Bridge as the sun begins to set in the late afternoon. This cherished tradition draws both locals and visitors alike, who gather to witness the colorful parade of intricately decorated boats adorned with flowers, lights, and symbols of the region’s rich heritage.

Every year, my family and I chose to secure a vantage point on the rooftops, where the elevated view offered a sweeping panorama of the festivities. Sometimes, we preferred to settle along the riverbank, where the sounds of laughter and celebration mixed with the gentle lapping of the water. Another option for viewing the events was the Colgante Bridge, but for safety reasons, both ends were always cordoned off to control overcrowding, preventing people from watching or crossing the bridge during this occasion.

Before the tragedy that struck in September 1972, our family relocated to a new house on Sta. Cruz Street, which coincided with my pursuit of higher education at the University of Nueva Caceres. During this time, I immersed myself in campus life and was an active participant in my school fraternity, Alpha Phi Omega. This fraternity not only provided a strong sense of community but also allowed me to engage in various service projects and leadership opportunities that shaped my character and values.

I was 22 years old on September 16, 1972. For the first time, I experienced the fluvial procession from a different location. My fraternity brothers and I watched the event on Dinaga Street, where the procession began. As soon as the boats and the pagoda passed by us, we started walking towards Plaza Quezon to hang out. As we strolled toward our destination, we noticed people running in panic toward Peñafrancia Avenue. Curiosity got the better of us, so we followed the crowd and heard the tragic news that the Colgante Bridge had collapsed.

Our first instinct was to help. By the time we reached the bridge, there was utter pandemonium. People wanted to see the destruction up close, but numerous ambulances now blocked the entrance, and the police were not allowing anyone through. We introduced ourselves and volunteered to assist in any way we could. It was 5:00 PM, and it would soon be dark. We thought about finding emergency lighting to illuminate the area where the bridge structure had collapsed. Once we found the searchlights, we climbed onto the rooftop of a nearby house and began to light up the entire area.

We watched and witnessed as the divers, now deployed in the murky river, emerging from the water carrying bodies one by one from underneath the wreckage. Sadly, the rescue operations had turned to search and retrieval. We did not see anyone come out alive from the river. At 8:30 PM, I saw the lifeless body of a young woman being carried toward the ambulance. As we focused on our task, we realized that we were hungry and tired but continued on with our voluntary service.

A short while later, I decided it was time to go home and grab a meal. As I was about to enter my house, I noticed a lot of my relatives gathering there. As soon as they saw me, they reprimanded me for not letting them know about my whereabouts, but relieved to see I was safe and sound from the bridge collapse. I soon learned my mother was not at home, she was out in the hospitals and Red Cross centers frantically looking for me among the victims. I apologized for my inaction, telling my folks I was preoccupied with helping in the emergency efforts. After the quick break, I returned to Colgante to continue helping with my fraternity brothers.

We spent nearly 10 hours on the rooftop, coming finally down at sunrise. The last body was retrieved from the river around 5:30 am. Thus, the term “Padamlágan,” which means “overnight,” truly applied to my Alpha Phi Omega brothers and me, as well as the other volunteers who assisted in retrieving the bodies of the victims.

I realized later why my mother felt doubly distressed. My younger brother Boyax was among the many who fell when the bridge structure collapsed. Fortunately, he landed on the riverbank ground instead of in the water, dislocating an elbow. My mother had assumed I was among the victims.

Regarding that the lifeless body of the young woman who was pulled out from the ruins at 8:30 PM, I later learned during my Law 1 class at UNC the following Monday that she was our classmate. Our professor pointed to us where she usually sat in the room. We were all shocked and saddened by the news. I said a silent prayer for her – having witnessed this tragedy unfold firsthand.

Movie Synopsis and Review (by the Dateline Ibalon editors)

Padamlágan (which also meant “Night Light” or “To enlighten”) is a 2025 Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival entry that explores a haunting, nearly forgotten chapter of Bicolano history.

The film unfolds five days before the declaration of Martial Law in September 1972. Set in Naga City, the story follows Doring (played by Ely Buendia), a devoted father and voyador (devotee) of Our Lady of Peñafrancia.

During the grand fluvial procession on September 16, the aging Colgante Bridge collapses under the weight of hundreds of onlookers, plunging over 130 people into the river below. In the ensuing chaos, Doring’s estranged son, Ivan, goes missing. The narrative tracks Doring’s desperate search through a broken system—overwhelmed hospitals, indifferent bureaucracy, and lost records—while the nation simultaneously descends into political darkness. As the military begins its crackdown, Doring’s personal grief becomes a mirror for a collective trauma that was silenced by the media blackout of the era.

A Docu-Fiction

One of the film’s most striking features is Jenn Romano’s decision to blend fiction with archival materials. The movie incorporates real-life news clippings, survivor interviews, and historical photographs, creating a “docu-fiction” atmosphere that lends the story a heavy sense of authenticity. For authenticity, it uses the Bikol language in the dialogue. Featured actors Ely Buendia, Sue Prado, and Floyd Tena have deep Bicolano roots.

In his first lead acting role, Ely Buendia delivers a quiet, conscientious performance. His portrayal of Doring’s internal agony is understated, effectively capturing the helplessness of a father lost in a failing system. Due to budget constraints, the bridge collapse itself is not shown visually. Instead, masterful sound design by Lamberto Casas Jr. uses the sound of groaning wood, snapping cables, and screams to force the audience to imagine the horror.

The film highlights the “double tragedy” of Naga—the physical collapse of infrastructure and the political collapse of democracy. It critiques how local histories are often erased from the national narrative. Other reviewers have noted that while the 75-80 minute runtime feels somewhat abbreviated, the film succeeds as a “starting point for healing” and a call to remember regional struggles.

The header image shows the ruins of the Colgante bridge collapse, (photo: Associated Press). Click link to learn more about Padamlágan, the movie.

About the author

DENNIS T. MARPURI graduated from Ateneo de Naga High School. He was an independent IT consultant in the US and worked in nine different states doing contracts primarily with Federal government agencies and Fortune 500 companies. He also became a professional photographer covering NCAA college sports. Now retired, he and his wife Elizabeth love to travel to Europe. They divide their time between Northern California with their immediate family and Ocampo, Camarines Sur, his hometown, where he promotes mountain biking for the local youth. He is the founder and principal advocate of Camino de Peñafrancia,