David Briscoe, a journalist for The Associated Press who chronicled the collapse of dictatorship and the rebirth of democracy during a dramatic period of upheaval in the Philippines, has died, his family said. He was 82.
Briscoe died Sunday at an assisted living facility in Kapolei, Hawaii, said his wife, Leonor Briscoe. He was diagnosed in April with amyloidosis, a disorder in which protein buildup can lead to organ damage.
In a career spanning decades and continents, Briscoe brought a reporter’s curiosity to his native Utah, to Washington and to Hawaii. But it was his perch in Manila that put him at the center of his biggest story.
Taking the helm as bureau chief in 1980, Briscoe charted the waning years of Ferdinand Marcos’ authoritarian regime and the turmoil unleashed by the assassination of opposition leader Benigno Aquino Jr. He and his staff fanned out across the country in chartered planes, rented jeeps and, at least once, a horse-drawn cart. They covered a relentless stretch of investigations, hearings and a presidential campaign so improbable it seemed scripted, with a reluctant widow thrust by tragedy to the forefront of a democratic movement.
That thrilling conclusion, with Corazon Aquino ascending to the presidency and Marcos dramatically driven into exile, would stay with Briscoe forever. He recalled searing images “of nuns kneeling in front of military tanks” and “soldiers and civilians crying in each other’s arms.”
“I expect to witness or cover no greater event in my life,” he wrote in AP World, an in-house magazine, in 1986, recounting his coverage of the upheaval.
A love affair with the Philippines
David Chesley Briscoe was born July 30, 1943, in Salt Lake City, Utah, to a union steward father and a homemaker mother who raised her two sons in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He grew interested in journalism at the University of Utah, writing for the student paper and eventually getting hired at the Deseret News, where editors handed him obituary assignments and pieces on standout local students.
After two years there, Briscoe signed up for the Peace Corps and was assigned to Paracale, and then Naga City, in the Philippines, where he taught English. For a young man who had scarcely left Utah in his youth, every corner seemed to be a revelation, of water buffalo shimmering from mud baths and children running down dirt roads.
He was smitten with his new home. When his Peace Corps tour ended, Briscoe bristled at the idea of leaving. He found work at a local newspaper, and while staffing an event in which Marcos was to speak, he met the former Leonor Aureus, editor of a rival paper. The two were soon walking down an aisle they lined with copies of The Naga Times and the Bicol Mail.
A dramatic revolution unfolds
Briscoe was hired by the AP in Manila in 1970, covering a deadly earthquake that rocked the capital, an assassination attempt on Pope Paul VI and the hijacking of a plane. By the next year, though, AP said he’d have to spend some time working in the U.S. He returned to Salt Lake, hoping fate might someday bring him back to the Philippines.
In his hometown, he found ties with his faith were fraying. His wife says he was disciplined by the church after discussing its exclusion of Black men from its priesthood in a class he taught. Briscoe opposed the ban. The church later lifted the restriction.
He also found himself at odds with the church over a three-part series he wrote with a colleague, Bill Beecham, examining its intricate web of business interests and tithing by its members that the reporters estimated brought in more than $1 billion a year. No Utah newspaper dared to run the stories, the pair said.
Briscoe spent nine years in Salt Lake before his bosses dangled a chance to return to Manila as bureau chief. He rushed to phone his wife with the news.
“Noree, are you sitting down?” she remembered him asking.
From Washington back to the Pacific
After his six-year stint running the AP’s office in the Philippines, Briscoe moved in 1986 to Washington, where he focused on international affairs. He was bureau chief in Honolulu from 2001 until retiring in 2009.
There, dressed in aloha shirts and bathed in a tropical sun, Briscoe could again call a Pacific island home. He spoke of being “halfway back.”
To his final days, he cherished his time in the Philippines. As the end neared, his family gathered around him and prayed. He grabbed his wife's hand, told her he loved her, and asked her to let him go.
The family plans to hire a boat and scatter Briscoe’s ashes in the waters of the Pacific, hoping the currents take his remains back to his adopted home.
“The land that David learned to love,” his wife said, “and where he met the love of his life.”
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Matt Sedensky can be reached at msedensky@ap.org and https://x.com/sedensky
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