The Hilariously “Atrocious” Laughing Quezon Gold Cross Medal: Humor in Imperfection

sandylichauco
Nov 23
5 min read

Updated: Nov 26

Image from Leon Gallery "The Kingly Treasure's Auction 2025" Catalog

We take a break from our usual focus on numismatics to enjoy a moment of genuine, high-stakes historical comedy. In collecting, value often depends on perfection. But what about true wealth? Well, that’s built on epic failures. In post-war Philippine history, the failure that sparked a thousand treasure hunts is the magnificent, mysterious, and truly “atrocious” A.M. Dondero "Laughing Quezon" Gold Cross Medal. Forget pristine coins. We're talking about a medal so bad that the Philippine government basically gave it the historical equivalent of an immediate, "No, thank you, we're good," then quickly sealed it away.

But what exactly makes the "Laughing Quezon" Gold Cross Medal so notorious among Filipino numismatists and history enthusiasts? It's not just its unusual appearance — it's a mix of

ambition, miscommunication, and postwar logistical chaos. The medal was meant to honor a national hero, but instead, it became a joke in the wild yet fascinating world of Philippine medal collecting. Even casual observers can’t help but smile (or wince) when they see its awkward grin, a reminder that sometimes mistakes make a stronger impression than perfection.

The Collector’s Mantra: Embracing Imperfections Over Flawlessness

In the world of collectible errors, mistakes become works of art. The pattern is clear: government errors drive prices up. True enthusiasts find joy in the stories behind these objects—especially when those stories involve major slip-ups. Far from being a source of embarrassment, the "Laughing Quezon" has become a symbol of the unpredictable nature of collecting. This infamous medal reminds us that screw-ups, far from decreasing value, often make history more memorable. In a world obsessed with perfection, it's the humor in imperfection that endures, uniting generations of collectors in shared laughter and fascination.

The Inverted Jenny: An airplane printed upside-down. Imagine the postal worker who saw that sheet and didn't realize they were holding an early retirement fund. It’s now one of the most famous $0.24 mistakes in history.
Image from : Smithsonial National Postal Museum
The 3-Legged Buffalo Nickel: A poor buffalo goes to the mint and comes out looking like it survived a very specific, die-polishing accident. Now, that missing fourth leg could buy a collector a nice new leg for a chair (and maybe a new house). Prices range from a few hundred dollars to over $100,000!
Image from Coinweek
The 1918 5-centavo U.S.-Philippines (USPI) Mule is also a direct function of its initial status as a monumental screw-up, proving that in collecting, being wrong about everything can make you spectacularly right about price.
Image from PCGS
The 1906-S USPI Peso was quickly distributed before silver prices surged, and the US government didn’t react fast enough. Before they realized it, some large one-peso coins became loose and were swiftly recalled. Not all were recalled, as some got away, causing a scarcity. That panic-driven scarcity led a collector to earn ₱9.0 million at an auction a year ago. Who needs foresight when market panic does all the work?

Consider, for a moment, how these famous mistakes aren’t just curiosities—they serve as conversation starters and legends in their own right. The "Laughing Quezon" Gold Cross Medal

The Laughing Quezon Gold Cross medal on its original packaging

fits comfortably among these global error icons, standing out not because of its intended honor but because of the notoriety of its flaw. In a sense, each mistake becomes a symbol of how unpredictability and human error can create the most sought-after items in the collecting world. Whether it’s a misprinted stamp, an "accident" at the mint, a switch in the patterns of a coin, or a miscalculation in the timing of minting and distributing a coin, these objects remind us that perfection is overrated—stories, especially funny or embarrassing ones, are what truly capture our imagination and endure over time. The "Laughing Quezon" is the same song, with a different (and much funnier) verse -- a medal with an unintended grin. Its rarity isn't caused by metallurgy or a printing press mistake; it's due to a complete and utter medallic identity crisis.

The FDR-Lincoln-Quezon Mashup: A Travesty of Epic Proportions

The story begins during the difficult days after WWII. The Philippine Heraldry Committee, led by Secretary Gilbert Perez, needed a prestigious Gold Cross Medal to honor its World War II heroes. Manila's factories were in ruins, so they outsourced the work to the U.S., choosing Washington-based medal maker A.M. Dondero. Dondero's task was simple: place the profile of the first

President of the Philippine Commonwealth, President Manuel L. Quezon, on the medal. The result? Let’s just say it was less of a respectful tribute and more of a confusing image—more

like, "Who is that perplexed-looking historical figure?" The obverse of the medal was a sculptural

Gilbert Perez Letter (Image courtesy of Doc. Blas Bermudez' FB post on the Philippine Medals Group)

disaster, reportedly resembling a strange blend of Franklin D. Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln, with an unsettling and un-presidential grin. This leads us to one of the most pointed pieces of numismatic criticism ever written. On August 12, 1948, Secretary Perez delivered a strong critique—and not in the auction sense. In a letter now held by the National Historical Commission of the Philippines, he described the workmanship as "atrocious" and a "travesty of medallic art" that is "undignified and desecrates instead of honoring" President Manuel L. Quezon. His main complaint? The depiction of the late President Quezon as a "laughing profile." The implication: We’re trying to honor serious war heroes, but you gave us a smiling, Frankenstein-like multi-president caricature. Perez's harsh critique immediately crushed the Dondero variant. It was never officially approved, never mass-produced, and never distributed in the Philippines, where the locally-made El Oro variant was actually, you know, excellent, and is widely available. Its existence became an open secret and a collector’s holy grail. A few were likely issued in the U.S. or acquired by prominent figures like General Carlos P. Romulo for his personal collection (a good museum piece now!). But for the rest of the world? It was gone, but not forgotten.

The humor of "Laughing Quezon" makes it truly unique. Collectors enjoy the irony: what was meant to be a serious tribute turned into an inside joke among coin enthusiasts, a whispered legend in auction houses and online forums. Its unusual appearance, along with the story of a bureaucratic error, has only boosted demand among those seeking out the rarest mistakes and anomalies. It's a medal rejected for being objectively terrible, but its very flaws—its main defect—have made it rarer than hen's teeth and probably more difficult to find than the record-setting 1906-S Peso. This medal isn't just a piece of military history; it shows that sometimes, the biggest mistake in a government contract can become the most prized item for a collector, unlike recent government "mistakes" that have become "big prizes" for contractors to collect. (no pun intended)

This medal is up for auction as Lot 77 at the upcoming “The Kingly Treasures Auction 2025” at Leon Gallery. The auction will be held on December 6, 2025, at 2pm.