“You lived and loved well, you wrote and served well, and you will be missed—deeply, profoundly, and always”
TODAY, Nov. 26, I received a call about the passing of a dear friend, a media brother, a co-worker whose words strengthened our stories, and a quiet pillar behind many of the books and projects we built together.
I endearingly called him Mr. Bugsy all these years and that’s Ramonchito “Mon” Tomeldan who was managing editor at the Manila Standard and business – motoring editor at Malaya until his passing.
To say that Bugsy was part of our professional journey is an understatement.
He was family.
He was a steady presence behind so many of our stories, books, and productions—one of those rare newsroom souls whose quiet brilliance shaped narratives, strengthened ideas, and elevated every project he touched.
Mon was a rare kind of journalist: steady but never stiff, sharp but never harsh, meticulous yet always encouraging.
He had that gift of elevating a story without taking away its soul.
Many times, in the rush jobs of book deadlines and text revisions, I would send Mon a chapter or a manuscript section, knowing that when it returned, it would come back clearer, stronger, more alive.
He never complained about the load. He simply worked—quietly, faithfully—because he believed in our shared mission to tell stories that matter.
To us in MTVi, Mon was more than a contributor.
He was a companion in the long journey of publishing—one who understood the weight of deadlines, the pressure of accuracy, the joy of completing a narrative, and the responsibility of chronicling history with honesty and heart.
His fingerprints are on many of our books, including those honoring leaders, institutions, and communities.
I can mention some of the landmark books he helped me publish, namely:”Twilight Glory: Tribute to Filipino War Heroes and Veterans;” two editions of the Paranaque coffee table books and the latest and due for release is the 75 Years of National Security Council.
Mr. Bugsy helped shape narratives that will outlive us all.
And that is a legacy few writers can claim.
But beyond his craft, what I will miss most is Mon the person—soft-spoken, thoughtful, humble, and always ready to lend a hand.
When I needed an extra creative artist, writer and researcher, he would immediately provide one helping hand and ready soul to do the job.
He had a quiet strength about him and a peaceful presence that calmed the situation.
His sincerity as a friend and Big Brother was never in doubt.
Mon was a loyal friend.
A dependable colleague.
A man who did good work not for recognition but out of integrity.
He lived simply, but he served generously—through his editing, his mentorship, his friendship, and the way he carried himself with dignity.
His passing leaves a deep void in our media community.
But it also reminds us of the immeasurable value of people like Mon—those who labor behind the scenes, who polish our words, who help us tell the Filipino story one page at a time.
He leaves behind a legacy of professionalism, kindness, and a body of work that will continue to inspire.
To Mon’s family especially his partner Lea Bels who stood by him until he breathed his last and my quijado Ramon Leon, please know that we in the media and publishing world mourn with you.
We are grateful for the years you shared him with us.
His contribution to journalism, to our books, and to our collective memory as a nation will forever be remembered.
Mon, thank you for the friendship.
Thank you for the decades of companionship in this demanding profession we chose.
Thank you for being part of my journey, of MTVi’s journey, and of the many lives touched by your gentle wisdom.
Rest now, my brother. Your work is done. Your words remain. And so will our love and gratitude for you.
Rest easy, Ramonchito “Mon” Tomeldan.
You lived and loved well, you wrote and served well, and you will be missed—deeply, profoundly, and always.
Farewell and my esteemed salute Mr. Bugsy!
