Apologies in advance if you have received this in error, please inform me to be removed from list if so


If you don't recognize some of the names of classmates below...
well, that's what yearbooks and reunions are for :

http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/khs60lv02
( KHS '60 & '61 reunion pics )

Please pass this email on to other classmates.
I'd like to keep this going, adding their responses to this list or one of yours...
as a reminder that the 50th reunions are just around the corner.
Pearl Country Club - Aiea - April 17, 2010 (confirmed)
Main Street Hotel - Las Vegas - October 10, 2010 (confirmed)

Have them post their responses as below, chronologically - latest first.
( any kine memory-recollection or response to a response OK )
Edit posts for improper content
Edit posts for brevity
Edit out email addresses
(though, with their permission, would appreciate having their email addresses)


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Below are a few of the classmates believed to have been receiving the email 'memories'...
either directly or through one of the classmates listed below.
Apologies to those inadvertently mis-named, misspelled or unlisted.

Alvin HIrokane, Alvin Kajioka, Alvin Kotake, Amy Higashi, Amy Morioka, Andra Dean, Andy Nakano, Ardel Honda, Arline Hirahara,
Arlene Yamagata, Bessie Shjimabukuro, Betty Ing, Beverly Davis, Brenda Ignacio, Calvin Ishizaki, Calvin Kang, Carl Yasuda, Carlos Gouveia,
Carol Hamasaki,Carole Kunishige, Carole Masuda, Caroline Andrade, Carolyn Amoy, Carolyn Chock, Charlene Mau, Chester Otani, Clarence Fung,
Clarence Shibuya,Clifford Ching, Clifford Young, Clinton Chung, Dennis Sayegusa, Edwina Ahn, Elsie Oshiro, Elsie Tanaka, Frances Mise,
Francine Song, Gary Tsukamoto,George Takamiya, Gerri Barcenas, Irene Rocha, Jane Mock, Jean Nakamura, June Yanazawa, Karen Iha,
Karen Morisawa, Kathryn Mabe,Kenneth Morimoto, Kenneth Ginoza, Lance Ishihiro, Lillian Tarumoto, Lorene Watanabe, Louise Lung, Lynne Zane,
Madge Stibbard, Mae Nakanishi,Manuel Mattos, Marian Tarumoto, Martin Buell, Matilda Muraoka, Melvin Cabang, Michael Yamaguchi, Michael Tang,
Muriel Masumura, Naomi Kuramoto, Norman Ginoza, Patricia Kiyabu, Paul Kimura, Paul Texeira, Pearl Shimooka, Phyliss Tanabe, Ralph Hind,
Ralph Yamasaki, Raynor Tsuneyoshi,Richard Shinn, Richard Shintaku, Rick Nakamura, Robert Gore, Robert Moriyama, Robert Nukushina,
Roger Kobayashi, Ronald Higa, Rosemary DeJesus,Roy Morihara, Roy Okano, Ruth Kinoshita, Sandra Ishimoto, Sanford Murata, Seda Deguchi,
Shirley Tamashiro, Stanley Miura, Thomas Okuhara,Thomas Takushi, Thomas Yamada, Timothy Choy, Tony Ballesteros, Verna Chang, Vernon Wong,
Violet Chung-Hoon, Virginia Kakazu, Vivian Hirahara, Wade Morikone, Wayne Kanai, Wayne Yamasaki, Xavier Ching


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The following classmates may still be on the 'unable to locate' list :
Wallace Afuso, Edward Akau, John Akeo, Donald Anderson, Douglas Arai, Raymond Au, Mary Bernard, Karen Bertram, Guy Bettencourt, Merilyn Biete,
Parmalee Burke, Henry Ching, Shirley Ching, Tamar Ching, Henry Chow, Ethel Cordeiro, Carol Cypriano, Priscilla Dang, Warren Dias, Sergio Ebalaroza,
Thomassina Fujimoto, Marlene Fujita, Godfred Galacia, Peggy Ginoza, Barbara Jean Gomes, Gary Gomes, Jeanette Hasegawa, Dorothy Hu,
Fredina Ishibashi, Barbara Izutsu, Arlene Jicha, Vernon Kaaiakananu, Roy Kageyama, Mollie Kai, Charles Kam, Helen Kanegushiku,
Gary Kashiwamura, Arlene Kauwe, Linda Kawabata, Pauline Kekahuna, Peter Kekahuna, Ruth Kirkpatrick, Arlene Kiyabu, Naomi Kobayashi,
Ronald Kuratsu, Kalani Kuwanoe, Sharon LaTraille, Herbert Lawelawe, Bernice Lee, Gregory Lee, Jeffrey Lee, Harry Lew, Halford Liu, Frank Lopes,
Joshephine Lopez, Lorraine Lopez, Albert Lum, Faith Maeda, Eleanor Mateo, Chloe McKewon, John Michler, Melvin Mishina, Emmaline Mitchell,
James Mitchell, Amy Murakami, Diane Nakama, Barbara Nakamura, Nancy Nakastuka, Barbara Nakayama, Blanche Nishimura, Marcia Nonomura,
Lorraine Okahashi, Jeannie O'Rourke, Frances Pascual, Daphne Payes, Edith Perkins, Stanley Pinho, Margaret Pludow, Linda Porgatorio,
Diane Rapozo, Mollie Rivera,John Rodrigues, Elizabeth Rubio, Paul Santos, Thelma Saxon, Marilyn Setoda, John Shimabukuro,
Joyce Shimabukuro, Kenneth Shimabukuro, Gail Shirai, Ronald Silva, Francis Simeona, Albert Siu, Sharlene Smythe,
Glenn Sumpaio, Kevin Sweeney, Lawrence Tamashiro, Milton Tamashiro, Theta Tanimoto,
James Texeira, Karen ThurstonStanley Toguchi, Kenneth Toma, Lila Marie Valentine, Manuel Vierra,
Calvin White, Mae Yabui, Patricia Yamaguchi, Elaine Ymas, Richard Yoshikawa,
Douglas Yoshimura, Marjorie Yoshioka, Audrey Young, Geraldine Young

Mahalo,
Hal Oshiro


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DEC 2009 POSTS - posts, starting with March, are archived in http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/memblogs

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----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 09, 2009 8:11 AM
Subject: RE: 12/09/09

I told a friend about the class cookbook that you are coordinating and mentioned Tsuneo’s butter mocha recipe.
They asked if it was the “original” and not one of his doctored up.
I said I thought so.
So I have orders for 5 of the cookbooks.
How much will each cookbook cost?

Bing’s Fried Scallops Wrapped in Purple Potato Shavings.

We have friends over for dinner on Tuesday night.
When I exit the subway I pass a Harris Teeters Supermarket on my way home.
I stopped in to see if there would be anything unusual I could fix.
Well the Sea scallops were huge.
So huge that all I needed was 1 scallop per person.
As I passed the potatoes I saw purple potatoes.
They reminded me of the Okinawa purple potatoes of my childhood.
So I bought 3 medium sized potatoes.
I patted the scallops ****
(at this point, of course, I defer to the cookbook committee's dibs)
Put them through the Japanese peeler that shaves vegetables into long strings.
To do it manually takes ages and requires very developed knife skills.
I got my shaver from Shirokiya in Hawaii a million years ago and love this kitchen gadget.
Wrap the strings ****
Fry **** , then ****
The potato strings ****
We like our scallops closer to sashimi texture.
You may fry it ****
Dry on a ****.
Salt and ****.
Serve warm or ****.
In my area purple potatoes are in season beginning in December.

Also, this was the first time in ages I had seen the distinctive Chinese cabbage called “gai lan”.
Cut off the ****.
Slice ****
Cut the ****
Steam the ****
We like it still green but soft enough for a fork just pierces the stem.
Add the ****
Steam another ****
Add a dash of ****
(I know, annoying, but hey, if it makes you want to buy the cookbook...)

Serve this with a salad of your choice.
We had arugula salad with fennel shavings.

The appetizer was large shrimp with Old Bay Spice.
I’ll send you that recipe later.

As for the plaque, I think it is a good idea.
The wording you suggest is perfect.
Describes the spot.
How much will it cost?

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----- Original Message -----
From: Brenda Ignacio
To: hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 09, 2009 7:02 AM
Subject: Re: 12/09/09

Hi, all!
Just barely time to read these days; and leaving for Phoenix/Sedona until next week.
Gerri, please let me know if Doc Manny is in town around the 17th or so for getting together.
Sorry I couldn't make the luncheon.....loved the pic, though!
I did hear from Elsie before I left L.V. and we spoke just yesterday.
What a joy to share experiences.
Let me know if there is to be a tree finding hugging lunch with pals.
Oh, Manny, I have a Laupahoehoe 1946 tsunami story involving my dad and his rescue efforts and his finding
only one of his sister's 3 children in a tidal pool.
It was such a strong impression in childhood memory.
Brenda

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November 9, 2009

Hey Gerri, you've got to find more things to do with all the spare time you seem to have : D
Nice to see you able to find some time to get back on the blog... let us know about Makai Market, would like to be there.

Roger, the only conclusions I've come to is that the tree that stands today where I took the last shots appears to be at the
exact spot where the yearbook tree is... whether it's the same tree I'm not sure... the other thing is the leaves on the
suckers growing out of the base of the present tree look very much like the yearbook sapling... varied sizes, the same
shapes and same growing habit... if you see the arborist/landscaper again, ask if he/she also sees the similarities.

Manny, even if the present tree is not the same tree, I think a plaque is still a good idea... inscribed with something like
'... 1959, a commemorative statehood tree was planted at this spot by... ', if people believe the present tree is the
actual Statehood tree, all the better.
So, Carol Andrade, what's for lunch that day.

Hal

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----- Original Message -----
From: gdigmon
To: hal
Sent: Tuesday, December 08, 2009 9:02 PM
Subject: Sandy Ishimoto

Aloha and holiday greetings Harold and everyone, Unfortunately due to a last minute appointment arrived after lunch,
I did not have the privilege of lunching with such a great group of old friends at Maunalani in that spacious and
sunny room that was set aside for this gathering, also had to leave early for a Xmas party.
Great turnout though and again great fun re-acquainting with old friends, took me a few moments to digest who was
who then discovered that besides Chester, Wallace Nakaoka also was in my 4th grade class, Wallace you are so nice
and slim now, I remember you as being the tan and husky type.
Everyone looked so good, Ruth is an angel to arrange this special time together with dear Sandy.
Let's see beside Frances Mise, Marjorie Morimoto, Melvin Asai, Roy Okano, Bobbie Baptist, Muriel Masamura,
a great group of pals to "chew the fat" with.
Hope that we have more gatherings of this sort, no special occasion required....just to meet again and have these
engaging chats about what transpired in our lives. must do it again soon.
So just speak up anyone, whenever and whereever.
Harold, wow, these messages are so entertaining and lengthy, have not been at the computer for a while,
it will take me a while to catch up.
Brenda Ignacio, you must be back in Honolulu by now, sorry that I could not get Elsie's number to you in time but hope
somehow that you were able to connect with Elsie in LV.
Will call you and leave Elsie's number on your message machine.
Let me know when you plan to be in town.
Manny, I know you have your devoted bingo night on Sunday but it was a nice surprise that you did show up that
Sunday morning at Ala Moana so how about confirming that you will be at Makai Market, same area about 830,
9ish etc. so that we can firm this up soon.
Warmest holiday wishes to all.Gerri DB

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----- Original Message -----
From: Roger Kobayashi
To: Hal
Sent: Tuesday, December 08, 2009 3:33 PM
Subject: Re: The Bulldog Newsletter

Harold:

I'd like to see how long it would take me to scan a fourth of the newsletters.
To do that, I'd like to have an apportunity to scan a couple of the newsletters.
I'll let you know after the trial.

Have you come to any conclusions about the Statehood Tree?
The comments in the last Harold-gram didn't make a concrete statement.
I'm relying on the comments of the the landscaper/Certified Arborist who coudln't identify the tree in the photo
and said that it was not a monkeypod.

Roger

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----- Original Message -----
From: manuel mattos jr
To: hal
Sent: Tuesday, December 08, 2009 9:24 AM
Subject: RE: 12/08/09

Fellow classmates, Manny here.
I just was about to go outside and work on my woods.
I was thinking to myself and got this idea.
Watch out, when I get an idea it is dangerous.
Maybe we could have a plaque made, identifying that tree and that it was the class of 1960 that planted it.
As part of our reunion, meet there and have it placed.
After all besides the school, that tree represents our class .
This way, the school won't cut it down later.
Since Caroline found it , she should pay for the plaque, gas and time and for your lunch.
Just kidding Caroline.
I better go outside and work before I get in trouble.
Pearl, kick that idea around.
Stay and think young, Manny

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December 8, 2009

Yep Manny, you were right about the type of tree... and about checking with a female for an answer : )

Bing, I don't think I have stress cracks in my teeth but my dentist told me my inner cheeks have the imprint
of my teeth on them... I told him yes, I am a jaw clencher when I'm really concentrating or under stress...
that's when he backed his fingers a little out of my mouth : D

You're right about time management on trips Nuk... I've often caught myself trying to get a good shot of the
scenery, attraction or the family and not enjoying the moment instead... that goes for reunions too... as
much as I enjoy snapping pics of classmates and the goings on, I realize I've missed out on having a lot of
one-on-ones with them... on the other hand, I've managed to see and briefly talk to a whole lot more of
them, bouncing around and taking pictures.
This blog, hopefully, will alleviate that for everyone and help serve as an icebreaker of sorts... case in point,
Manny I remember all the way back to KIS but never really spoke to him at the reunions... it now seems
like I could see him at the reunions and talk to him comfortably like we were having an ongoing conversation...
or putting it another way, I would have otherwise gone up to another classmate and said something like
'Hey, Robert NUKUSHIMA, haven't seen you in a long time', and have him not talk to me the rest of the night.

Pearl, I'll try to continually post your reminder in some shape or form until the deadline date... if I remember...
keep reminding me : )

Raynor, your recipe showed up at a perfect time... my wife was just thinking of doing a similar dish... those
classmates you've mentioned aren't on this email list but I believe Pearl does have their mailing addresses...
would be great to have their or other classmates' email addresses if you or any one else can provide them.

Hal

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----- Original Message -----
From: manuel mattos jr
To: hal
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 9:10 PM
Subject: RE: 12/05/09

Well hal, is the statehood tree a monkey pod or what.
Didn't I say that 50yrs ago, the State and County didn't know any other trees exsisted, except Monkey Pod ,
mostly P.I. Monkey Pod.
Bing, while reading your story, I said to myself, only a local girl would go throught all that trouble, make dinner,
then kick the poor guy out the front door.
Poor Hank, I bet the next time he came over, he was barefooted.
Jean, at first I didn't know who you were until I looked at the yearbook.
When I saw that it was you, I remember you very well.
You were one of the few Japanese girls that I would talk to.
You would always look at me and smile.
I'm so glad you found a good husband.
Hope both of you are in good health.
Do you still live in Dutch Harbor.
In one of my Tsunami presentations, I tell the story about the Tsunami of 1946.
Early in the morning of April 1st, a 8.4 event occurred about 90miles south of Scotch Cap lighthouse on Unimak Island.
More then a 100km of the Aleutian Trench, was uplifted.
On Scotch Cap, was a US Coast Guard Lighthouse made of concrete.
The night before, the Coast Guard was going to replace the 5 men at that location.
The Coast Guard captain got drunk so the ship didn't leave to make the replacements.
About 48min after the event, so much water was displaced, that the Bering Sea was draining through Unimak channel.
When the Pacific ocean came back in, it created a tsunami 100ft. high.
A bore, which is like a wave breaking of water 100ft. high struck Unimak island, totally destroying that concrete
lighthouse and killing all 5 men.
Dutch Harbor received only minor damage.
If you look at the Aleutian Islands and the location of the 1946 event,
The area East until Alaska, hasn't ruptured yet.
Most likely an event will happen in that area.
Don't worry you're safe in Dutch Harbor.
I think the hunt is over, we have located that Statehood Monkey Pod tree.
Didn't I tell all of you that a female would find that tree.
Caroline , i wish you were my beat partner.
We would have solved all our cases.
Great job Caroline, you got it right the first time.
Bing, it looks like you found your honey
If all of you want more Tsunami stories, just let me know.
Well hope to see some of you when I get to Honolulu.
I will call Gerri and set a date.
Stay and think young, Tsunami manny.

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----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 1:49 PM
Subject: RE: 12/06/09

Women have bathroom stories from traveling also.

When I was vacationing in China three come to mind.
First, we were inside the Forbidden City.
My mom and I had to go.
The guides pointed to a door, we went in.
We were shocked to see a hall the size of a gym, no walls, holes in the ground with women squatting over the holes.
They were doing whatever and chatting at the same time.
My mom and I had never been in the same bathroom at the same time since I became an adult.
We were horrified.
Then I said you go to that corner, and I’ll go to the other far corner and we’ll face the wall.
We did and never talked about it again.

Second we were touring Hunan province, the childhood home of Chairman Mao Tse Tung.
We went to a restaurant and afterwards most of the women on our tour wanted to go to the bathroom.
The waitress led us outside to the back.
There we saw a long trough that began up a steep mountain all the way down to a pit in the back of the restaurant.
Women straddled over the trough, each facing the back of the woman ahead of her to use the bathroom.
Gravity brought the stuff down to the pit.
Unfortunately I still had to go.
So I walked up all the way to the top, straddled and went.
That way I didn’t have to face anybody’s back side.
Then I climbed back down the mountain side looking the other way otherwise I thought I’d get nauseated.

Third, we wanted to eat authentic Szechuan cuisine in Sichon province.
That province has a large Muslim population.
Where you have Muslims you have mosques.
So we visited the mosques.
Well, lo and behold, mosques have high western style toilets, not holes in the ground that you squatted over.
The only difference was that the material used to make the seat was wood, smoothed very well, and oiled
to a beautiful patina.
There was a cover over the hole made of the same wood which made the toilet sort of look like a throne.
Each toilet seat was in a separate room with a door, just like our bathrooms.
Then I noticed on the toilet seat there were dusty footprints.
So I went to the next bathroom and the seat there had no footprints so I used that one.
I asked the guide about the footprints.
He said that non-Muslim Chinese tourist typically don’t know what to do with Muslim toilets.
His guess was that such a person squatted on the seat over the hole and left footprints.
The caretaker of the mosque confirmed this and said whenever they have non-Muslim tourists they wipe
the seats clean at the end of the day.

I have learned to travel with a backpack full of toilet paper without the card board core and a can of Lysol.
It is very light and useful.

Nuk: Hank is coming to the April reunion with me.
Ask him yourself about any of my postings.
Anyway, my bet is that if your dentist told you your wife was getting stress cracks in her teeth because of her job,
you would do exactly what I did.
Think about it.
I bet that goes for 99.9% of our classmates.
The only thing unusual is that our dentist is very good friends with us.
Hank said that as a kid, our dentist would say that he wanted to grow up to fix peoples teeth.
When he graduated from dental school he worked as a dentist at the Lorton state prison.
He kept a small practice in an office on Capitol Hill on Saturdays.
When the building he rented was gentrified he moved his equipment into our large garage.
It took him over a year to find a place to buy.
He bought a townhouse in the area, renovated the top two floors to make them into two rental units and renovated
the basement into a dental office.
When he retired his retirement pay and his two rentals allowed him to continue doing what he loved and charge
very little if at all whenever a patient was too poor to pay.
That is the wonderful thing about this Doc.
But he is no angel, there are other stories that are best left untold.

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----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Nukushina
To: hal
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 1:19 PM
Subject: Re: Camera lens

In a message dated 12/7/2009 12:56:00 PM Pacific Standard Time, hal writes:
Nuk, you hit it, it is a Panasonic... thought if I got a simple P&S, it may as well be a 'pretty good one'.
I'm hoping to find a part for my Olympus later on to repair it... then I can have them back up each other.
I have to say though, I'm getting real comfortable with the ease and simplicity of the Panasonic and may make
that the primary camera... OK, so I'm basically inept and lazy.
You mean I've had only one eye open all this time ?
No wonder people's faces looked fuzzy talking to them up close.

Harold, it's my opinion that unless it's really inexpensive to fix the Oly, I wouldn't bother.
The newer P&S are reasonably good.
The only fault is their slow low light performance, and too much depth of field because of the short focal lengths.
These days, I think of $300 electronics as throwaways because they cost too much to fix when one can buy the latest
and greatest for reasonable prices as long as one doesn't pay retail list prices.
I'm a P&S guy too for the most part.
I don't feel like hiking long distances early in the mornings to take great pictures, nor getting back home late for dinner
after a late day shoot.
I like sharp lenses and a fast camera too, but it's too heavy of a load for me to carry on trips.
And on trips, one won't get the good vantage points to take pictures.
I see some serious photographers who are so busy running around trying to get good angles and stuff,
while trying to avoid crowds, I don't think they are enjoying themselves.
Sometimes, we are so busy thinking about getting great pictures, we forget about the stuff that make great memories.
How many people take pictures of their kid's toys or favorite books, your mother's meals, grandma preparing a meal,
or one eating one's favorite meals like saimin.
How about pictures of the old radios/TVs we used to listen or watch.
Any body got pictures of Yick Lung seeds, their favorite sweater, their childhood friends, homemade toys, etc.?
We've all seen pictures we've seen in emails of our growing years.
How many of us have taken pictures of stuff now that will be memories in 20 to 50 years?
A lot of time, the memories we remember are not necessarily the ones we photograph when we have a camera.
Even onboard cruises or our trips, I get so busy enjoying myself, I completely forget to take pictures of our activities.
A lot of the stuff we talk about when we get back is not documented with pictures.
Why is that?
Very strange.
WHAT?
People do not have fuzzy faces?
I thought that was old age?

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----- Original Message -----
From: Pearl Shimooka Mori
To: Hal
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 10:22 AM
Subject: Re: 12/04/09

REMINDER TO CLASSMATES:
I know everyone's busy with the holiday festivities and shopping.
Please don't forget to turn in bulletin reponses so we can get an estimate of those interested in the activies planned.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL.

JEAN:
You can type, write or email your recipe to me.
No special size.
Your suggestions are good.
Will bring to the committee' s attention.

MANNY:
Mailed your passes today, you're in the computor already-you just need someone to pick up the passes.
Hope to get together with you and others went you're in Honolulu later this month.
I heard we're meeting at the makai-market in Ala Moana on 12/20/09.

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----- Original Message -----
From: Ray Tsuneyoshi
To: Hal
Sent: Monday, December 07, 2009 6:00 AM
Subject: RE: 12/07/09

I can swear to and attest to Hank’s height and Betty Ann’s too.
If you believe in reincarnation, I would bet all my money that Hank was a Hawaiian in some previous life.
He loves Hawaiian food and has quite a collection of Kiho Alu (slack key guitar) music.
With a bit more practice he could very well master pidgin English without the haole flavoring.
To all you poor people who became addicted to my butter mochi, I just sent it to Harold.
Just remember that I will not take any responsibility for diets ruined or others becoming addicted to the stuff.
Also, here are some other classmates who don’t appear on our lists:
Paul Ichinose, Dennis Higuchi, Melvin Young, Alan Yoshikami and Kenneth Taira.
Raynor

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December 7, 2009

Sandy's Christmas Party group shot posted: http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/khs60misc

Good point Nuk, didn't think of mentally aligning things three-dimensionally... being one-dimensional as some would say : )
They must use the same train manufacturer in Italy... passengers are admonished not to use the toilet while the train is at
the station... try telling that to any passenger with sudden urgencies... sure enough, as the train left the station, we could
see workers with shovels hunched over the tracks... repairing the track they were not... now I know why the locals avoid
being close to a train when it (literally) whizzes by... thanks for jogging the memory and the chuckle.
Actually, that's what I meant by reading previous posts by and talking to Betty on our visit... glad you were paying attention : )

Hal

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----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Nukushina
To: hal
Sent: Sunday, December 06, 2009 8:41 AM
Subject: Re: 12/06/09

Harold, I studied the photos again.
I'm wrong for a couple very obvious reasons.
I also looked at the many telephone poles and one of the trees that is not obvious in the Annual picture to align them in my mind
and it seems to support your position.
Yes, it looks like Carol Andrade nailed it, and you did a good follow up.
Thumbs up for you both.
Mystery solved.
No, we didn't come across the toilet paper man at the train station in Italy.
The crudest toilet I've seen was on a train in China.
It was just a hole in the floor and you could see the railroad ties passing under.
At least it was well ventilated.
BTW, I think Betty Ann mentioned Hank was 6' 4" some time ago, as well as her 5' height; pay attention. :)
I didn't think she was that short.

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December 6, 2009

Nuk, that's what I was going by... perspective, or rather perception... I was using a 26mm-comparable
digital, so I thought I'd (mistakenly or not) crop the photo down to what I imagined the original photo
might have seen... the photos looked close enough - especially the line up of the telephone pole with
a guy wire brace on Kaimuki Ave seen near the upper right corner of the photo - for me to assume 'The
Tree' to be the one shown... this tree is on the lawn at the front entry with the circular driveway...
standing at the covered walkway in front of the flagpole, facing Kaimuki Ave and Sekiya, it's the first tree
on the left... according to the landscape maintenance map, provided by the Assistant Librarian, all of the
(5) trees on that particular lawn are monkeypods... there's your circumstantial evidence... the 'dead body'
but no 'smoking gun' that I've dredged up... now it's in your hands, all you Sherlocks out there... Watson out.
Actually, I've never met Hank... only through conversation and reading posts by Bing... so, for whatever reason,
I had a mental picture of someone in the 5'-6" to 6'-0" range... until I read one of her more recent posts... hey
Nuk, anyone taller than 5'-6" is tall to me : )
By the way Nuk, did you come across the guy sitting down at a table in one of the Italy train station toilet
rooms... reading the newspapers... then methodically and neatly tearing them up into small patches and
stacking them into neat piles as he got done reading each of the sections... which he charged 10 cents to
use for toilet paper ? I don't know which got to me first... the fragrance and visual of the unkempt squat
toilets or the barely suppressed laughter at the sight of the guy... stayed only a very brief moment.

Roy, I'm going to assume the subjects in the photo you emailed me of that group won't have a problem with my
posting the photo on the Pbase website... except for Mel and Wally, all have their pic on the website anyway.
Will see if I can post that photo within a day or two.

I stand corrected Chester... should know better... I was working on the Pbase website - classmate pics will come
up randomly when I log in - and Helen Hashimoto's pic came up, so... OK nuff excuses... apologies Sandy.

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----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Nukushina
To: hal
Sent: Saturday, December 05, 2009 5:07 PM
Subject: Re: 12/05/09

Harold, my perspective is different.
First, the Annual picture shows a three lane striped street (which I think is Kapiolani) and a telephone pole
near that street.
The driveway had neither the telephone pole nor the strips on the driveway; or did it?
What kind of tree is it, the one you think is the Statehood Tree?
I am also a photographer, but not a true one like Roy but genuine artificial fake, and am familiar with lens
and lens distortion.
As for camera lens for a 35mm SLR camera used in those days, the normal lens was either 50mm, 55mm,
or 58mm.
The most common normal lens was the 50mm because it most closely represents the human eye.
Anything lower than 50mm will be slightly distorted, the shorter the focal length.
The most common wide angle lens during that time was the 35mm, and the picture doesn't look like it was
taken with a 35mm lens.
For the background to appear closer, that would require a telephoto lens AND the photographer would have
to be much farther away from the subjects.
That would also make all people appear to be their normal relative sizes; the photo doesn't show that either.
A Statehood tree in front of the school, however, makes more sense.

Harold, are you sure Hank wasn't sitting down when you met him?
Size 14 shoes and 5' 6", I don't think so; Hank would look like a duck at that height.
Size 14 and 6' 4"; I believe it.
Yes Betty Ann, Hank is too tall for you; stick with us short guys ;)

Betty Ann, you tell Hank, I rather be tall and have women chase me around.
Who needs clothes anyway?
Being short means standing around nekkid alone.
Short guys have clothing issues too.
In Hawaii when I graduated college, I had a 26" waist and they did have men's pants at that size,
believe it or not.
I gained weight in concert with the smallest size pants they were producing; 28" when I became 28", 30" etc.
So in that sense, I was lucky.
I think 30" is the smallest size now, but next year, the minimum size will be 45".

Betty Ann, I see you have the perceptiveness and understanding from your father.
Funny; you are the first and only female I know that preferred short guys.
For most women, the taller, the better.
It also means larger income, statistically proven.
And to talk Hank into a job he is happy with, even with a smaller income.
Woman, are you precious or what?
Are you making this up?
Am I still sleeping?

Roy, it was a learning experience for me when I traveled overseas.
In Japan, this lady walked in while I was standing at the urinal and I acted like a typical American almost wetted
myself and most guys like me can't shut it off.
On another sightseeing trip, I had to go use benjo so I went ahead of the group.
The men's benjo had a long urinal at the foot of this block wall that was full of decorative holes;
more holes than wall.
Looking through the wall, I was enjoying the great view of the park we had just walked through in the distance,
and along comes the group from the right side, and there I was peeing.
In Italy, at one of the stops, I didn't have the small change to put on the plate to use the toilet,
so I put paper money in it.
So while I was using the urinal, the cleaning lady came in walking very quickly, speaking Italian loudly
and I thought I did something wrong.
She came up to me and gave me change.
Ever accept money change while you were peeing?
It was the first for me, and probably the last.
I don't think anyone gives change these days. nuk

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----- Original Message -----
From: Roy Okano
To: Roy Okano
Sent: Saturday, December 05, 2009 4:01 PM
Subject: Christmas Luncheon with Sandy Yamada

We had a luncheon with Sandy at the Maunalani Nursing Home on December 1.
Ruth's idea of bringing the luncheon to Sandy was a good idea.
We had bentos from Gyotaku and desserts from Zippy's.
It was great to see Mel and Gerri there.
The rest of us are "Old Timers" who get together at least one-a-month or when Chester's in town.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hal:

A correction on Sandy's maiden last name, it's Ishimoto, not Hashimoto.

Aloha, Chester Otani

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December 5, 2009

Bing, I think a lot of us knew that about Hank... probably from the last reunion you attended some 30 ? years
ago... but his height ? I was also thinking perhaps a half-foot or less than a foot taller than you... not 6'-4" !
Then again I had a good friend, W. Coast Haole, who worked with me occasionally, who was also 6'-4"... we
got along exceptionally well, though I'd sometimes tell him he was a pain in the neck, what with having to
tilt my head all the time talking face to face with him... reminded me of our classmate, Jerry Miller, who
was also nearing 6'-4" in KIS where we were good friends... he was gracious enough to nearly always sit
down or hunch down when talking to me : )

If there's any one else having the same problem as Calvin, remember there's always the Pbase website to
catch up with the blogs in the interim while determining and resolving email issues... but do let me know
if you are having problems receiving the email blog, I'll do what I can to clear up anything on my side.

Roy, great to hear Sandy (Hashimoto) is doing better... wish I could have made it up there.
Your story about the restroom in Japan brought a smile... my urgent visit to one at a train station startled me
too when I realized too late that all the partition-less urinals were plainly visible through the door-less
opening to the large commuter crowd surging by outside.

Ray, your story along with Betty's, Jean's and all the others really brings home: lucky we live Hawaii.

Posting some new photos of 'The Tree' at the KHS driveway entrance... now believe this is the 'Statehood
Tree'... note the suckers at the base of the tree whose leaves are very similar to the leaves on the sapling
in the yearbook photo... did check to make sure those suckers weren't from another tree growing alongside
the monkeypod... they appear to be sprouting from one of the monkeypod's trunk roots which appears to
have been trimmed-hacked of suckers before.
http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/khsmem
Nuk, I still think Carol Andrade hit it square on with her description... note that the half-circle driveway with the
adjoining driveway leading off to the Mauka-side parking lot looks to be the same in both photos... yes there's
a similar driveway setup by the Mauka-side parking lot but the angle of the intersecting driveways doesn't match
the yearbook photo... also, I realized the photographer then, had a different camera with probably a lens with a
different depth of field, possibly making his photo look more compact and distant objects look closer... Roy,
the true photographer here, will either back me up or slam me down on this : )
And the debate rages on.......

Hal

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----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Friday, December 04, 2009 2:26 PM
Subject: RE: 12/04/09

Manny, you and Rosalind are so lucky to get it right the first time, marriage I mean.
From my experience marriage is like another job.
You have to work at it.
I shared the Manny and Rosalind stories with my Hank.

Because of Nuk, Hank now teases me by calling me BAD (for Betty Ann Douglas) instead of Betty Bad Ass.
BTW Nuk I think we got all that love and attention from our parents because they were afraid for us.
I really appreciate how fortunate we were.

Brenda we were very lucky to be the ones who transitioned from the old ways to the new ways.
When I heard that today 80 percent of the marriages in Hawaii cross some kind of ethnic lines I knew we were
at a better place.
And looking around us at our classmates, as a group we helped make it better.
What surprised and pleased me is that none of you thought anything negative about me being a half breed.
How very lucky I was to have such tolerant classmates.
Roy, we seem to be heading toward one race, as you mentioned, the human race.

Hank asked if you all knew he was black?
I don’t remember mentioning it before.
He asked me to tell you our story.
So here goes.

When I arrived to work in DC I was newly divorced again and had no friends or relatives.
I found Arlene Lum but she married and moved to New York within the year.
I was all alone until my office mate Candy Bryant befriended me.
Her family included me in the holidays, Christmas, New Years, Easter, Thanksgiving.
They became my family.
Her father, Cunningham Bryant, was the first black general in the U.S. Army Reserve.
Her mother was a full-time mom who had graduated from Northwestern University. (
At first this was intimidating because my mom graduated 6th grade.)

Candy graduated from Cornel and was very outgoing.
She was the leader of a group of friends from high school and college.
Candy would decide what everyone would do on weekends, usually playing cards or board games, sometimes
going dancing at clubs.
She was a natural leader.
Some in the group were black, some were white, and I was the Asian.
Hank was living and working in Amherst Massachusetts as an artist.
When he was in town he was part of the group.
His parents and Candy’s parents were old friends, they were very active at the same church, Calvary Episcopal Church.
Hank and Candy have known each other since they were four or five years old.

Now my ideal height for a man was 5’3” because I am 5’.
I had no idea Hank was tall because most of his height is in his legs.
When he sits in a chair, he appears to be about normal height.
Also, I didn’t see him often.
He visited DC just a weekend or so a month.
One evening I sat next to him and we started talking.
He had been a fine arts major at Howard University.
Now he and two partners worked as artists making concert posters for various rock stars.
We had this in common because my previous husband was a promoter of rock concerts in Hawaii.
He promoted Ike and Tina Turner, the Four Tops, Stevie Wonder, etc., and I was in charge of contracting with artists
for the publicity posters to advertise the concerts.
We found we had some acquaintances in common and had similar impressions of them.
The rock concert business had a very seedy underbelly and it was unfortunate but sometimes necessary to deal with it.

A month later he sat next to me when we were playing dirty hearts.
We talked about car parts.
He worked as a parts clerk to get through college.
I had been a parts clerk and one summer a parts delivery driver for my father at Pacific Motors.
He said it was fascinating to talk to a female who could change her own spark plugs, set her own points,
replace the muffler and the tailpipe, knew what brackets went where, etc.
In those days everything about a car was simple, not like today.
I assured him that I could do it if I had to but I didn’t like all the dirt and grease involved so I would rather someone else
do it and I would pay if I could afford it.

The next month he called to ask me out.
I knew he was a struggling young artist so I countered by suggesting he come by my apartment and I would cook dinner.
He said okay.

My dining area was laid out Japanese style.
I had a rectangular rug (made of Japanese tatami roll up beach mats held together underneath with duct tape because
it was so inexpensive I could afford it and no one in DC knew what it really was).
The table top was a hollow second hand door that I stained dark brown.
For legs I used three equally spaced 20 gallon aquariums.
These were free from the pet shop because they were cracked but not dangerous because I used duct tape to seal the cracks.
I had 4 very large square cushions for chairs.
I made them by sewing up remnants to overlap so I could stuff old (but clean) panty hose with runs in them sans
the elastic waist band.
I had an electric wok so the main course for dinner would be shabu shabu.
This is a dish that is thought to have originated in the 13th century to feed the troups of Ghengis Khan and adapted
by the Japanese in the 20th century.

I made a Chinese chicken broth, cleaned and deveined raw shrimp, rinsed the bean sprouts, cut the tofu into little squares,
washed the baby Shanghai choy, sliced the beef very thinly, rehydrated the shiitake mushrooms, sliced the ends off the
enoki mushrooms, soaked the cellophane noodles, and arranged everything on a long rectangular white ceramic tray
ready for cooking at the table.

For dessert I mixed green tea powder into vanilla ice cream.
In separate bowls I set out the making of the sauces: goma, ponzu, Shoyu, garlic, radish, sri-racha sauce, sambal olek,
onions, oyster sauce, and hoi sin.
I set a place for him and a place for me at the far end of the table.
Then the makings for the sauce.
Then the wok and then the shabu shabu fixings.
I didn’t think too much about it but it was my first dinner in DC where I would cook and serve a guest.
I got ready.
The door bell rang.
He was on time.
I was too busy to notice his height.

He sat on the cushion across the table from me.
I served wine.
Then I went back to the kitchen brought back the hot chicken broth to the table in a pot to fill the wok.
I was busy talking and showing him how to make the different sauces, what to dip into the broth and for how long.
We had lots of fun experimenting with the different sauces and talking about his childhood.
During his intermediate days he went to the same school that was the district school for the Chinatown kids.
During his teens he began hanging out at the Chinatown Christian Church playing basketball, ping pong, pin ball,
and going to record stores with his Chinese American buddies.
It turned out that he had lots of Chinese friends but they were all married so he kept in touch with Candy’s group for a
social life whenever he was in town.

Then I served dessert .
As we were finishing dessert I glanced at the other end of the table and saw very large shoes.
Hank’s shoe size is 14.
Startled, I asked are those your shoes?
He laughed and said he didn’t see anyone else in the room.
I don’t remember exactly but Hank’s version is that I said you’ll have to go, I stood up, took him by the arm,
and pushed him out my door.
He asked me was it anything he had said or done, I said no, you are just too tall.
I locked the door behind him.
He said he stood there confused for at least 5 minutes because he thought that one of the things going for him
with women was his height.

So he went home and called Candy.
Candy called another friend Ara who was my height.
They said height didn’t matter and convinced me that I shouldn’t discriminate against Hank because of his height.
Finally I agreed to go on another date.
He took me to Annapolis where we walked around the quaint town and then rode the ferry.
It was lots of fun.

Shorty after that he moved back to DC and decided to switch from a starving artist back to a parts clerk
for a Ford car dealer.
He was promoted to manager and took me to my first DC Asian party.
Everyone knew him, it was clear that these were his buddies.
Everyone agrees that in a former life, he must have been Asian.

A few years later his dentist asked me in for a consultation.
Hank had developed stress cracks in his teeth.
His dentist told me that Hank did not enjoy managing people.
He would rather do hands on work as a parts clerk.
So I confronted Hank and he admitted it was true but the lower pay and status prevented him from stepping down.
I told him I preferred him alive with lower pay and status to dead.
Besides we live relatively modestly and I have a great job.
He stepped down and has not regretted it.
Hank is a nice guy who has many characteristics of my father …. in spite of the fact that I still think he is too tall.
I had finally found a partner.
For some of us, the third time’s the charm.

PS. Hank asked me to tell you guys that being tall is not all that it is cracked up to be.
It is harder and more expensive to get clothes and shoes to fit.
You have to be careful to not hit your head on chandeliers, the top of some doors, and you cannot fit in many cars,
and you have to watch where you are going even walking on the street to avoid tree limbs and low hanging wires.
When we were in Rome he couldn’t see anything down in the catacombs because he was doubled over with his back
touching the ceiling.
He finally gave up.
I toured the whole thing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Calvin Kang
To: hal-khs60
Sent: Friday, December 04, 2009 10:26 AM
Subject: RE: 11/24/09 - KHS

Harold,

Haven't received anything after this....could something have gone wrong again???

From: Hal-KHS60
To: ;
Subject: 11/24/09 - KHS
Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 06:16:07 -1000

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Roy Okano
To: Hal
Sent: Friday, December 04, 2009 9:17 AM
Subject: Re: 12/04/09

Several of us (Chester, Wallace, Frances, Barbara, Muriel, Ruth, Gerri, Melvin, and Marge) got together with Sandy
for a Christmas lunch at Maunalani Nursing Home.
Sandy seems to be doing better; she can hold a cup of water and drink from it with a straw.
Her uncontrollable shakes seem to have subsided.
Ruth is an angel; she helped Sandy with her food and is the one who gets her around.
It was her idea to bring the "party" to her.
Frances got us bentos from Gyotaku.
Dessert was apple napples and blueberry cream napples.
Barbara brought little stuffed dolls that I first mistook for ginger bread man cookies.
Some of us chipped in for Sandy's gift; gift certificate to a hair style salon.
I think Sandy enjoyed herself.
It was great to see the group again.
Seeing Gerri was a treat.
Brenda and Rick could not make the luncheon.
I got some nice photos of the group and the view from the home.

I too think we (Americans) are hypercritical when it comes to sex.
In France, women go topless and there is not a stir except from the American visitors.
The human form is beautiful or at least it used to be.
I took a class in figure drawing and the model had a beautiful body.
I remember going to the beaches and seeing women in bikinis and photographing them.
Today, I leave my camera at home because 75% of the people are overweight or obese and I don't find them attractive.
Even the younger ones are overweight.
Obesity is becoming a real problem; weight related illnesses and increased medical costs.
I was at the airport in Washington and I'd say 50% of the people in line were overweight or obese.
It scared me; the aircraft has a weight limitation for takeoff.
Instead of charging for baggage, airlines should start charging for overweight people.
I once sat next to an obese woman and it was terrible.
Not only did she encrouch into my space, but she felt clammy and breathed heavily.
No, I did not turn her on.
She ate everything placed in front of her and was even eyeing my dinner.
It's unfortunate that being overweight seems to be acceptable and movies and ads seem to prove it.
As for the sunbathers, I wish most of them would leave their clothes on.
I remember when we were young, we were "lean and mean".
We had good bodies.
I apologize for digressing.
We were talking about sex.
We had a party at a fancy hotel in Tokyo; New Otani, I think.
I went to use the bathroom and while at the stall, a woman walks in.
I am confused.
I am standing at a stall; this is the men's bathroom?
The woman must be confused.
I later found out the bathrooms were coed.
In most countries sex is not an issue.
I think we make it so.
Anyway, times have changed and bathrooms are now separate.
There are many stories and this was only one of them.

Our reunion committee is working hard to put together an enjoyable and memorable class reunion here in Hawaii
and in Las Vegas.
We need your support.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Ray Tsuneyoshi
To: hal
Sent: Friday, December 04, 2009 6:54 AM
Subject: Re: 12/04/09

Betty Ann and Jean and all others who have given us precious glimpses into their lives.
What an abundance of experiences all of which, for better or for worse, have shaped our lives and our outlook
on the same.
Our family's outlook on other races was strongly influenced by my mother's father.
He was the plant engineer for the Kohala Sugar mill in Halaula on the Big Island.
His eldest son was killed in Italy as part of the 442 Regimental Combat group.
His next three children married Japanese so for the Japanese Camp community everything was cool.
However, his youngest son fell in love with a woman who was Portugese, chinese, English and Hawaiian.
There was rumbling in the Japanese in the Halaula Camp about driving my uncle and his bride from the Camp.
My Grandfather as the highest ranking Japanese in the camp summoned the elders to his home and calmly told
those assembled "what you do to my son and his bride you do to me.
Anyone I find doing harm to them will answer to my fists".
There was no trouble after this.
Of the 6 children in my family 3 married Caucasians including me.
One married a Chinese guy and 2 married japanese.
When I returned from Germany with a German wife and a HapaHaole daughter my grandfather came to Honolulu
to check out my wife.
We had a big party at my parent's home with all the ono kaukau that my wife went crazy over since German food
is generally bland by comparison.
Now, grandpa spoke the truest form of "pidgin" with all the different ethnic words mixed in.
My wife spoke english with growing confidence but certainly prepared for the hawaiian, chinese, japanese,
filipino words that were included.
Anyway, grandpa called me over and told me to bring my wife and introduce her to him.
I did this and he dismissed me.
He then talked to my wife for at least a half hour and then dismissed her.
I asked my wife what was discussed and she told me she barely understood half of the discussion.
Later, however, grandfather came to me and as closely as I can recall, said, "Tsuneo, you have number one good lady.
She German but more like Japanese girl come straight from old country.
You no be lolo and take good care of her otherwise I going come and give you dirty lickin,".
Both my daughters married haoles so the mixing goes on.
I did not encounter overt discrimination but, in retrospect, when I was Vicepresident of a tugboat company in the
LA/Long Beach Harbor I did notice that there was only one other asian person in an executive position in the
entire harbor.
Of course, going to Washington DC I teamed up with Betty Ann to fight the glass ceiling issues in the Federal Government
RayT

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December 4, 2009

I didn't think you could out-do the first story, Manny... but you just did.

Nuk, I was told that when I was born I had to stay in the hospital for several months because of some condition I can't
remember... I became more attached to the nurses than my Mom... guess we are greatly affected by early influences.
My Mom wasn't prejudiced... very open-minded... didn't care who we married as she told us... but she hoped it would
be with an Okinawan-Japanese spouse ; )... all of her kids never really took that to heart... doing what we felt was
in our own hearts.

Hey Bing, I think a lot of our classmates, like you and me, already do and think like this article... working as I want to,
not need to, works (pun intended) for me.

Brenda, I also was told that when born I had light brown, curly hair and light colored eyes... maybe there were influences
other than Okinawan ? : )... actually though, I did read somewhere that we all are born somewhat that way and that
those features eventually darken... which still doesn't explain why I'm sometimes mistaken for something other than
Okinawan-Japanese whenever I travel... Mexican, Portuguese, Puerto-Rican, Thai, Filipino... even Italian in Italy !

Hal

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: manuel mattos jr
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 9:37 PM
Subject: RE: 12/03/09

Hal, I called Vicky from DLNR this morning.
She said if we could email that picture to her, she will try to ID the tree.
She related it might be difficult but she will try.
When I get her Email address, I will give it to you.
I don't know how to send that type of infromation via email.
If you want you can call me on my cell.
If this doesn't work, it looks like we might all have to meet at that location, hold hands around a tree and sing our school song,
(where are you little tree, where are you . wo wo wo wo wo, lada tada tada toooo, where are you).
I hope all of you remember that song, (little star).
Bing, it must have been hard for you , trying to please both sides of your family.
As for me, with my wife being Hawaiian, most welcomed me with open arms.(true story)
When I first met my wife's grandmother who was pure Hawaiian, she took me into her office and sat me down.
She was well respected throught out the state for her ability to heal and look into people's heart.
I had just made 18 and my wife was only 15.
She looked at me for a while and then, she asked me.
Do you want to marry my granddaughter.
I almost fell of my chair.
I said, I don't know, but I really like her.
Here was this small Hawaiian lady that I had just met and she could read my heart.
Then she told me to say this prayer, that I have said every night from that day.
She said, boy, if you want to marry my granddaughter, you have to say one OUR FATHER and three Hail Marys, every night
and I will do the rest.
I guess she saw something in me that she liked, also saying, boy you are welcome in this house anytime.
When my wife's mother found out that we liked each other, she told her daughter that I wasn't welcomed there anymore.
My wife went crying to her grandmother.
Her grandmother went to my wife's mother who was her daughter and said, this is my property, you only live here.
That boy can come here anytime he wants.
She instilled in me the love for everything that is Hawaiian.
She was in every way, these words, THIS LAND OF ALOHA.
Now you all know how I married my wife.
We will find that tree.
Think and stay young, just me manny

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----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Nukushina
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 6:35 PM
Subject: Re: 12/03/09

Harold, I sent you the following on 12/2, but the email is apparently lost in cyber space.
I added a reply for 12/3 and hope this gets to you.
My ISP is acting weird lately.
Harold, Roger; Come on you guys, weren't those Google StreetView pictures taken recently?
Looking at both the StreetView and Annual pictures, the Statehood tree should be about 40' from the telephone pole near
the corner of Kaimuki and Kapiolani.
That tree is quite large, you can't miss it.
There's a sign close to the tree on the Kapiolani side.
If that tree looks 50 years old, maybe we should accept it as the statehood tree, even if it's not a Kukui tree, the state tree.
Harold, I agree, the leaves on saplings don't always look like the mature trees.
I have put quite a few trees in the ground and have noticed sometimes, some of the leaves look freakishly different
(usually larger) from a mature tree.
BTW, one of the guys (tall dark one) in the Annual picture is Nate Harimoto, who I believe was class president '59/'60;
class of '62.
Betty Ann, thank you so much for sharing your young life with us; you're on a roll.
I had no idea you had humble beginnings like most of us, but with a great pedigree, you 'dog'.
You were so lucky to spend your summers with your Dad's sister, a great investment of your time for a great education.
No wonder you're so bright.
My cousin, older by two years, baby sat me a couple times.
She had about 30 books which she knew by heart, as they say, before she started school, and read a couple to me.
I was maybe 6 or 7 years old and there was a gargantuan magnitude of difference in our intelligence and was only two years
older than me.
I learned so much during those two visits, including nursery rhymes.
However, on the second visit, we played on her swing in her backyard.
She was swinging back and forth while I would run in front of her and seeing how close I could get to her without bumping
into her.
The seat of the swing was a thick block of wood probably rain soaked because it had moss on it (being in Manoa).
Well, I got hit on my last pass, from the corner of the seat on the corner of my left eye and knocked me flat on the lawn.
I remember a loud BONK!
Yes, that's how an empty head sounds like on my neck, meeting a fellow block of wood.
I was hit hard enough not to feel anything, but not enough to crack my skull.
I got up from the lawn dazed, not knowing what just happened and I felt very different from only seconds earlier.
I could hardly stand on my feet and must have staggered around for a few seconds.
I was bleeding badly and didn't know it.
My cousin looked at me horrified and started crying.
I couldn't understand why she was crying and our aunts, who were living behind her house, were out on the lawn consoling us,
and took her away because she couldn't stop crying.
Strange, I was very concerned about her crying as I watched her being walked by our aunt up the stairs to Joyce's house.
I thought something had happened to her, not me.
Because I was in a daze and couldn't see myself bleeding, I didn't understand what happened until the next day when it was
explained to me.
I can't remember the rest of that day, but had stitches sewn in by my eye.
That ended my baby sitting with my cousin.
I guess she was blamed for my stupidity.
She graduated at the top of her class from both Roosevelt H.S. and Stanford University.
There's a chance you might know her; Joyce Hironaka.
So I do understand how it was to be in at learning environment with someone who cared, even if it was so short for me.
It isn't anything like school unfortunately.

12/3/09 Add on.
I disagree with you guys about the location of the Statehood Tree based on my view of the Annual picture.
I don't think it's on the inner circle.
Based on the picture below the Annual pic that you took: http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/image/119911531;
it's the 2nd tree from the left.
Roy, I think I liked Chinese girls because I met so many of them in college.
I think they felt safe with me because they knew they could only marry Chinese.
They seemed to be sophisticated and a little more worldly IMO.
I enjoyed talking to them about the projects they were working on, and getting to know some of them.
I even penpal-ed with one of them long after college.
She had no romantic interest but was very interested in me as a person.
Obviously, she wasn't normal.
My wife's parents died long before we met so it wasn't a problem.
Her mother died shortly after delivery of my wife from a massive hemorrhage.
My wife's step mother was very cordial to me, but her mother's sisters were highly prejudiced even though they tried
not to show it.
Their only brother was Uncle Joe, who you met, was hen pecked by them into not marrying his first girl friend because
she was Japanese, and he never married.
Joe wanted to sell us one of his cemetery plots at Diamond Head and was ready to sign papers the following day.
When his three spinster sisters that he lived with, heard about it, they nixed it because of me.
The following day, he acted like he never made an offer to us.
The poor guy had to go back on his word so I felt bad for him because he really wanted to make us happy because it was
a good deal/investment.
As a result of that however, my wife's attitude changed about them, and no longer accepted their dinner invitations when
we went to Honolulu.
My wife's only brother married a JA girl.
Roy, no it wouldn't be tragic if I didn't marry a Chinese girl.
On the contrary, I think it would have been a difficult situation depending on her parents and relatives.
Like Betty, my wife knew a lot of Japanese culture, and she prefers Japanese cuisine.
It's rare to see Chinese people in anything other than a Chinese restaurant.
It's probably different in Hawaii.
I eat most anything, except those 1000 year old eggs on our banquet night on our trip to China in 1986, actually looked like
1000 year old eggs.
It had a metallic taste to it.
I only had a chitto bit.
Betty Ann, you and some of the other gals need to write your wonderful biographies.
You have such great memories.
Your parents were so perceptive and thoughtful; where do I get parents like that?
Now I can see why our classmates like you are so special.
Our generation represents a transition from the older generations from our mother countries to the U.S. during a great period
in our time that will not be repeated again.
It represents the struggles your parents and grand parents went through, so their children could have a better life.
Yes, most people don't realize shoyu should be refrigerated and should be thrown out after a while.
The last time we were in Japan, we really enjoyed some of the shoyu in some restaurants with our sashimi/sushi.
It's very tasty.
Shoyu takes about three years to make including aging and many of the small businesses that sell the best shoyu in Japan
sell them to restaurants, not to the general public.
It really makes the sashimi taste good.
Most restaurants in the US serve Kikoman which I never liked.
Toro is great and very expensive.
The best toro I've had, tasted like butter, and yellow tail is similar but different; a little too rich tasting for me.
I still prefer the 'near toro' for my taste.
Two years ago, blue fin tuna was predicted to disappear in five years.
Today, the prediction is now three years; right on schedule.
So, save the tuna and don't eat it.
I will continue to eat tuna for testing quality purposes only. ;)
Those 600# jellyfish invading the fishing waters around Japan is destroying their fish industry.
It's been said a woman who makes great tsukemono is supposed to be great in bed.
I won't ask.
When I was young, I could never understand why nudity was bad.
We all more or less look alike, so what's the big deal.
The U.S. is one of the few countries that has a nudity hang up.
The U.S. also have a sexual hang up, confuse sex and nudity together, when they aren't related.
The chef at our local Japanese restaurant does ikebana and it's surprising what he does with stuff he finds on the side
of the streets.
The owner of the local Chinese restaurant does Chinese flower arrangements which are large.
We bring both restaurants Bird of Paradise when in season from our backyard.
The Japanese restaurant is small and struggling but they always give us free desserts.
The Chinese restaurant will give us full dinners free from time to time, or an extra dish with our take outs.
Betty Ann, your youth was so rich compared to mine.
For the most part, I grew alone.
I was the latch key kid, without the key.
My sister and I did not grow up with the love you experienced.
What a difference that makes for an individual.
Thanks again for sharing.
Like Carl, I really appreciate reading your posts.
Boyd will really be happy when he gets back.
My life is just mundane, not like Betty Ann's.
It's more like when I was 4 or 5 years old when my throat hurt when I swallowed.
At the doctor's visit, he felt the sides of my throat where I could feel the fullness and soreness.
My tonsils had to be removed.
On the day drive to Queen's the next morning, my dad told me not to be afraid, nothing bad would happen to me.
After getting to the hospital, they put me in a tiny gown, and placed me in a crib.
I must have been very small because one nurse looked at me and called over another nurse to look at the little baby.
They both thought I was a baby and thought I couldn't understand a word they were saying, and I didn't say a word.
A 3rd nurse came by and looked at me, before someone starting pushing the crib toward the OR.
They placed me on the table and I was cool; no panicking.
One of the doctor poured this liquid on this maybe 4" square gauze and placed it on my nose.
One whiff and I knocked it off because it smelled strange and terrible.
The doctor tried again and I fought to get off the table so the nurses held me down.
I shouted out, "You're killing me! You're kil......."
Yes, the little baby could talk when his little ass depended on it.
It felt like the doctor was smothering me.
I see these tiny colorful sparkling stars and my vision turned completely white.
I was getting killed by these masked men.
A few seconds later, I wake up in the children's ward.
Operation over and it felt like only a few seconds when hours went by.
This small girl was staring at me when I looked up.
I'm guessing her name was Diane, not sure.
She was about a year younger than me, but very friendly and perky.
She had her tonsils removed the previous day.
She told me hi, asked a few questions, and we played together having a lot of fun.
She told me, lunch is going to be ice cream.
Wow, that's a rare treat for me.
I felt great except for the soreness in my throat with no after affects from the anesthesia.
There was only the two of us playing in this section of the ward and this girl was fun.
We had a whole bowl of vanilla ice cream each, and had fun the rest of the afternoon.
Later in the day, about 3 or 4 in the afternoon, the nurse came in to check my throat with a tongue depressor.
It wasn't that easy opening my mouth so the nurse could not see anything and she wasn't happy.
She said if I couldn't open my mouth widely, I would have to stay over night like Diane did.
I was surprised that little Diane, so robust, and smart, would be so timid to merely open her mouth.
Diane just refused to open her mouth again, so I had mixed feelings because she was so much fun to be with,
and it would be another day of ice cream.
I wouldn't mind spending the night in her company, an ice cream dinner, but at the same time,
I didn't want to show her I was not "man" enough not to open my mouth for a look-see.
Well, I checked out to the nurse's satisfaction and I'm not sure I did the right thing though.
One more happy day with Diane plus vanilla ice cream?
Boy, am I stupid.
The good times have been so short.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 12:05 PM
Subject: RE: 12/02/09

This applies to our group.

http://www.rodale.com/depression-elderly

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Brenda Ignacio
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 7:34 AM
Subject: Re: 12/03/09

Wow, .... the recent postings have had me in such a state, as I, too, was so affected by the melting pot that wasn't exactly merging,
and to hear the beautiful and poignant stories, my heart physically hurts and brings up compassion for self and for all of us.
How perfect that this powerful reunion is having us share from those places that are ready for the light.
At one level it is inconceivable that so many of us endured these limiting beliefs, and on the other,
now that we realize how healing we can all be for each other, just having the understanding,
or perhaps only acceptance of the past, and the fortitude to claim all that we are collectively and individually.
I am so touched!

Bing, Manny, Hal, everyone,.........your stories are so meaningful.
Manny, what fortitude to claim your princess in spite of grandma!
I did not have Portuguese spoken in my family, and probably because we were all living so close to the mix and didn't have
such clear boundaries, except for mainland haoles, but that came later, as I wasn't ever around "them" on the big island.
Unlike you, however, I was very, very obedient. (smile)

Some thoughts I have had from then to now is how rich we are for having been a part of the growth of human understanding.
I always thought that the Chinese/Japanese mix was fabulous.
Then when I wore my Chinese jacket to a concert with my new Japan daughter-in-law, I proudly asked her,
"do you ever wear these beautiful jackets?"
She replied, ..."no, not really,....except for maybe Halloween."
Having traveled to China and to Japan, I still don't get it.
How beautiful our mixed breed children are!
Hal, for example, those long eyelashes and beautiful head of hair (memory here), ..........
wasn't that a sign that you had that fabulous Okinawan blood??
Sometimes when I see or hear the loud protests that still are part of our island home, I wonder:
what if we just took away the ukulele, the guitar, the paniolo, the sushi, the saimin, the cake noodles, the Portuguese bean soup
and sweetbread, the andagi, beni imo, gau gee, ethnic dances, all that make up our island home?
I personally don't think there is going back simply to taro and fish for any of us.
We are rich beyond measure!
We have joined in a beautiful pattern to form a beautiful quilt of many colors and textures........

Wow, this is going to be the best reunion ever in the history of Kaimuki High School, with the most extraordinary beings.
I'm feeling it so deeply, and I am so thankful to be part of it.
Can't you just feel it?
This blog has broadened and solidified many known and undeveloped bonds.........unfinished business is at hand!

Love in abundance, Brenda

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 3, 2009

Caught that while I was posting the pics on Pbase, Clarence... came to the same conclusion... will try to get a shot
from that tree... also, I believe I see what looks like some suckers growing from the base of that tree... if they are
they also look a lot like the tree in the '59 photo... regardless, Roger, we might want to hold off on the party pooper
scooper until we hopefully hear from Manny's friend.

Bing, was about to do some minor spelling changes but realized that would be changing to what an Okinawan, who
spoke only english, thought... from what a Chinese-Japanese heard spoken first-hand in four languages... talk
about preconceptions... and from someone who heard portions of this story before... glad I caught myself.
Agree with Carl... does bring back a lot of memories of my own upbringing.

Hey Manny, that was a great story... made even more so since I've observed first-hand the special relationship you and
your wife have.
Hope you are able to meet up with your friend Vicky to get her opinion on the tree.

Hal

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 4, 2009

I didn't think you could out-do the first story, Manny... but you just did.

Nuk, I was told that when I was born I had to stay in the hospital for several months because of some condition I can't
remember... I became more attached to the nurses than my Mom... guess we are greatly affected by early influences.
My Mom wasn't prejudiced... very open-minded... didn't care who we married as she told us... but she hoped it would
be with an Okinawan-Japanese spouse ; )... all of her kids never really took that to heart... doing what we felt was
in our own hearts.

Hey Bing, I think a lot of our classmates, like you and me, already do and think like this article... working as I want to,
not need to, works (pun intended) for me.

Brenda, I also was told that when born I had light brown, curly hair and light colored eyes... maybe there were influences
other than Okinawan ? : )... actually though, I did read somewhere that we all are born somewhat that way and that
those features eventually darken... which still doesn't explain why I'm sometimes mistaken for something other than
Okinawan-Japanese whenever I travel... Mexican, Portuguese, Puerto-Rican, Thai, Filipino... even Italian in Italy !

Hal

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: manuel mattos jr
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 9:37 PM
Subject: RE: 12/03/09

Hal, I called Vicky from DLNR this morning.
She said if we could email that picture to her, she will try to ID the tree.
She related it might be difficult but she will try.
When I get her Email address, I will give it to you.
I don't know how to send that type of infromation via email.
If you want you can call me on my cell.
If this doesn't work, it looks like we might all have to meet at that location, hold hands around a tree and sing our school song,
(where are you little tree, where are you . wo wo wo wo wo, lada tada tada toooo, where are you).
I hope all of you remember that song, (little star).
Bing, it must have been hard for you , trying to please both sides of your family.
As for me, with my wife being Hawaiian, most welcomed me with open arms.(true story)
When I first met my wife's grandmother who was pure Hawaiian, she took me into her office and sat me down.
She was well respected throught out the state for her ability to heal and look into people's heart.
I had just made 18 and my wife was only 15.
She looked at me for a while and then, she asked me.
Do you want to marry my granddaughter.
I almost fell of my chair.
I said, I don't know, but I really like her.
Here was this small Hawaiian lady that I had just met and she could read my heart.
Then she told me to say this prayer, that I have said every night from that day.
She said, boy, if you want to marry my granddaughter, you have to say one OUR FATHER and three Hail Marys, every night
and I will do the rest.
I guess she saw something in me that she liked, also saying, boy you are welcome in this house anytime.
When my wife's mother found out that we liked each other, she told her daughter that I wasn't welcomed there anymore.
My wife went crying to her grandmother.
Her grandmother went to my wife's mother who was her daughter and said, this is my property, you only live here.
That boy can come here anytime he wants.
She instilled in me the love for everything that is Hawaiian.
She was in every way, these words, THIS LAND OF ALOHA.
Now you all know how I married my wife.
We will find that tree.
Think and stay young, just me manny

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Nukushina
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 6:35 PM
Subject: Re: 12/03/09

Harold, I sent you the following on 12/2, but the email is apparently lost in cyber space.
I added a reply for 12/3 and hope this gets to you.
My ISP is acting weird lately.
Harold, Roger; Come on you guys, weren't those Google StreetView pictures taken recently?
Looking at both the StreetView and Annual pictures, the Statehood tree should be about 40' from the telephone pole near
the corner of Kaimuki and Kapiolani.
That tree is quite large, you can't miss it.
There's a sign close to the tree on the Kapiolani side.
If that tree looks 50 years old, maybe we should accept it as the statehood tree, even if it's not a Kukui tree, the state tree.
Harold, I agree, the leaves on saplings don't always look like the mature trees.
I have put quite a few trees in the ground and have noticed sometimes, some of the leaves look freakishly different
(usually larger) from a mature tree.
BTW, one of the guys (tall dark one) in the Annual picture is Nate Harimoto, who I believe was class president '59/'60;
class of '62.
Betty Ann, thank you so much for sharing your young life with us; you're on a roll.
I had no idea you had humble beginnings like most of us, but with a great pedigree, you 'dog'.
You were so lucky to spend your summers with your Dad's sister, a great investment of your time for a great education.
No wonder you're so bright.
My cousin, older by two years, baby sat me a couple times.
She had about 30 books which she knew by heart, as they say, before she started school, and read a couple to me.
I was maybe 6 or 7 years old and there was a gargantuan magnitude of difference in our intelligence and was only two years
older than me.
I learned so much during those two visits, including nursery rhymes.
However, on the second visit, we played on her swing in her backyard.
She was swinging back and forth while I would run in front of her and seeing how close I could get to her without bumping
into her.
The seat of the swing was a thick block of wood probably rain soaked because it had moss on it (being in Manoa).
Well, I got hit on my last pass, from the corner of the seat on the corner of my left eye and knocked me flat on the lawn.
I remember a loud BONK!
Yes, that's how an empty head sounds like on my neck, meeting a fellow block of wood.
I was hit hard enough not to feel anything, but not enough to crack my skull.
I got up from the lawn dazed, not knowing what just happened and I felt very different from only seconds earlier.
I could hardly stand on my feet and must have staggered around for a few seconds.
I was bleeding badly and didn't know it.
My cousin looked at me horrified and started crying.
I couldn't understand why she was crying and our aunts, who were living behind her house, were out on the lawn consoling us,
and took her away because she couldn't stop crying.
Strange, I was very concerned about her crying as I watched her being walked by our aunt up the stairs to Joyce's house.
I thought something had happened to her, not me.
Because I was in a daze and couldn't see myself bleeding, I didn't understand what happened until the next day when it was
explained to me.
I can't remember the rest of that day, but had stitches sewn in by my eye.
That ended my baby sitting with my cousin.
I guess she was blamed for my stupidity.
She graduated at the top of her class from both Roosevelt H.S. and Stanford University.
There's a chance you might know her; Joyce Hironaka.
So I do understand how it was to be in at learning environment with someone who cared, even if it was so short for me.
It isn't anything like school unfortunately.

12/3/09 Add on.
I disagree with you guys about the location of the Statehood Tree based on my view of the Annual picture.
I don't think it's on the inner circle.
Based on the picture below the Annual pic that you took: http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/image/119911531;
it's the 2nd tree from the left.
Roy, I think I liked Chinese girls because I met so many of them in college.
I think they felt safe with me because they knew they could only marry Chinese.
They seemed to be sophisticated and a little more worldly IMO.
I enjoyed talking to them about the projects they were working on, and getting to know some of them.
I even penpal-ed with one of them long after college.
She had no romantic interest but was very interested in me as a person.
Obviously, she wasn't normal.
My wife's parents died long before we met so it wasn't a problem.
Her mother died shortly after delivery of my wife from a massive hemorrhage.
My wife's step mother was very cordial to me, but her mother's sisters were highly prejudiced even though they tried
not to show it.
Their only brother was Uncle Joe, who you met, was hen pecked by them into not marrying his first girl friend because
she was Japanese, and he never married.
Joe wanted to sell us one of his cemetery plots at Diamond Head and was ready to sign papers the following day.
When his three spinster sisters that he lived with, heard about it, they nixed it because of me.
The following day, he acted like he never made an offer to us.
The poor guy had to go back on his word so I felt bad for him because he really wanted to make us happy because it was
a good deal/investment.
As a result of that however, my wife's attitude changed about them, and no longer accepted their dinner invitations when
we went to Honolulu.
My wife's only brother married a JA girl.
Roy, no it wouldn't be tragic if I didn't marry a Chinese girl.
On the contrary, I think it would have been a difficult situation depending on her parents and relatives.
Like Betty, my wife knew a lot of Japanese culture, and she prefers Japanese cuisine.
It's rare to see Chinese people in anything other than a Chinese restaurant.
It's probably different in Hawaii.
I eat most anything, except those 1000 year old eggs on our banquet night on our trip to China in 1986, actually looked like
1000 year old eggs.
It had a metallic taste to it.
I only had a chitto bit.
Betty Ann, you and some of the other gals need to write your wonderful biographies.
You have such great memories.
Your parents were so perceptive and thoughtful; where do I get parents like that?
Now I can see why our classmates like you are so special.
Our generation represents a transition from the older generations from our mother countries to the U.S. during a great period
in our time that will not be repeated again.
It represents the struggles your parents and grand parents went through, so their children could have a better life.
Yes, most people don't realize shoyu should be refrigerated and should be thrown out after a while.
The last time we were in Japan, we really enjoyed some of the shoyu in some restaurants with our sashimi/sushi.
It's very tasty.
Shoyu takes about three years to make including aging and many of the small businesses that sell the best shoyu in Japan
sell them to restaurants, not to the general public.
It really makes the sashimi taste good.
Most restaurants in the US serve Kikoman which I never liked.
Toro is great and very expensive.
The best toro I've had, tasted like butter, and yellow tail is similar but different; a little too rich tasting for me.
I still prefer the 'near toro' for my taste.
Two years ago, blue fin tuna was predicted to disappear in five years.
Today, the prediction is now three years; right on schedule.
So, save the tuna and don't eat it.
I will continue to eat tuna for testing quality purposes only. ;)
Those 600# jellyfish invading the fishing waters around Japan is destroying their fish industry.
It's been said a woman who makes great tsukemono is supposed to be great in bed.
I won't ask.
When I was young, I could never understand why nudity was bad.
We all more or less look alike, so what's the big deal.
The U.S. is one of the few countries that has a nudity hang up.
The U.S. also have a sexual hang up, confuse sex and nudity together, when they aren't related.
The chef at our local Japanese restaurant does ikebana and it's surprising what he does with stuff he finds on the side
of the streets.
The owner of the local Chinese restaurant does Chinese flower arrangements which are large.
We bring both restaurants Bird of Paradise when in season from our backyard.
The Japanese restaurant is small and struggling but they always give us free desserts.
The Chinese restaurant will give us full dinners free from time to time, or an extra dish with our take outs.
Betty Ann, your youth was so rich compared to mine.
For the most part, I grew alone.
I was the latch key kid, without the key.
My sister and I did not grow up with the love you experienced.
What a difference that makes for an individual.
Thanks again for sharing.
Like Carl, I really appreciate reading your posts.
Boyd will really be happy when he gets back.
My life is just mundane, not like Betty Ann's.
It's more like when I was 4 or 5 years old when my throat hurt when I swallowed.
At the doctor's visit, he felt the sides of my throat where I could feel the fullness and soreness.
My tonsils had to be removed.
On the day drive to Queen's the next morning, my dad told me not to be afraid, nothing bad would happen to me.
After getting to the hospital, they put me in a tiny gown, and placed me in a crib.
I must have been very small because one nurse looked at me and called over another nurse to look at the little baby.
They both thought I was a baby and thought I couldn't understand a word they were saying, and I didn't say a word.
A 3rd nurse came by and looked at me, before someone starting pushing the crib toward the OR.
They placed me on the table and I was cool; no panicking.
One of the doctor poured this liquid on this maybe 4" square gauze and placed it on my nose.
One whiff and I knocked it off because it smelled strange and terrible.
The doctor tried again and I fought to get off the table so the nurses held me down.
I shouted out, "You're killing me! You're kil......."
Yes, the little baby could talk when his little ass depended on it.
It felt like the doctor was smothering me.
I see these tiny colorful sparkling stars and my vision turned completely white.
I was getting killed by these masked men.
A few seconds later, I wake up in the children's ward.
Operation over and it felt like only a few seconds when hours went by.
This small girl was staring at me when I looked up.
I'm guessing her name was Diane, not sure.
She was about a year younger than me, but very friendly and perky.
She had her tonsils removed the previous day.
She told me hi, asked a few questions, and we played together having a lot of fun.
She told me, lunch is going to be ice cream.
Wow, that's a rare treat for me.
I felt great except for the soreness in my throat with no after affects from the anesthesia.
There was only the two of us playing in this section of the ward and this girl was fun.
We had a whole bowl of vanilla ice cream each, and had fun the rest of the afternoon.
Later in the day, about 3 or 4 in the afternoon, the nurse came in to check my throat with a tongue depressor.
It wasn't that easy opening my mouth so the nurse could not see anything and she wasn't happy.
She said if I couldn't open my mouth widely, I would have to stay over night like Diane did.
I was surprised that little Diane, so robust, and smart, would be so timid to merely open her mouth.
Diane just refused to open her mouth again, so I had mixed feelings because she was so much fun to be with,
and it would be another day of ice cream.
I wouldn't mind spending the night in her company, an ice cream dinner, but at the same time,
I didn't want to show her I was not "man" enough not to open my mouth for a look-see.
Well, I checked out to the nurse's satisfaction and I'm not sure I did the right thing though.
One more happy day with Diane plus vanilla ice cream?
Boy, am I stupid.
The good times have been so short.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 12:05 PM
Subject: RE: 12/02/09

This applies to our group.

http://www.rodale.com/depression-elderly

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Brenda Ignacio
To: hal
Sent: Thursday, December 03, 2009 7:34 AM
Subject: Re: 12/03/09

Wow, .... the recent postings have had me in such a state, as I, too, was so affected by the melting pot that wasn't exactly merging,
and to hear the beautiful and poignant stories, my heart physically hurts and brings up compassion for self and for all of us.
How perfect that this powerful reunion is having us share from those places that are ready for the light.
At one level it is inconceivable that so many of us endured these limiting beliefs, and on the other,
now that we realize how healing we can all be for each other, just having the understanding,
or perhaps only acceptance of the past, and the fortitude to claim all that we are collectively and individually.
I am so touched!

Bing, Manny, Hal, everyone,.........your stories are so meaningful.
Manny, what fortitude to claim your princess in spite of grandma!
I did not have Portuguese spoken in my family, and probably because we were all living so close to the mix and didn't have
such clear boundaries, except for mainland haoles, but that came later, as I wasn't ever around "them" on the big island.
Unlike you, however, I was very, very obedient. (smile)

Some thoughts I have had from then to now is how rich we are for having been a part of the growth of human understanding.
I always thought that the Chinese/Japanese mix was fabulous.
Then when I wore my Chinese jacket to a concert with my new Japan daughter-in-law, I proudly asked her,
"do you ever wear these beautiful jackets?"
She replied, ..."no, not really,....except for maybe Halloween."
Having traveled to China and to Japan, I still don't get it.
How beautiful our mixed breed children are!
Hal, for example, those long eyelashes and beautiful head of hair (memory here), ..........
wasn't that a sign that you had that fabulous Okinawan blood??
Sometimes when I see or hear the loud protests that still are part of our island home, I wonder:
what if we just took away the ukulele, the guitar, the paniolo, the sushi, the saimin, the cake noodles, the Portuguese bean soup
and sweetbread, the andagi, beni imo, gau gee, ethnic dances, all that make up our island home?
I personally don't think there is going back simply to taro and fish for any of us.
We are rich beyond measure!
We have joined in a beautiful pattern to form a beautiful quilt of many colors and textures........

Wow, this is going to be the best reunion ever in the history of Kaimuki High School, with the most extraordinary beings.
I'm feeling it so deeply, and I am so thankful to be part of it.
Can't you just feel it?
This blog has broadened and solidified many known and undeveloped bonds.........unfinished business is at hand!

Love in abundance, Brenda

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Clarence Fung
To: Hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 2:59 PM
Subject: Re: 12/02/09

Hal,
The sapling of the Molokai Monkey pod does resemble the Statehood tree.
However for location, I think the candidate is the tree growing behind/out of the trunk of the second car (grey/silver)
on your Reverse View picture.
This would place it inside the circle and the circle roadway would then show up rather than in your 09 view which
doesn't have the road in the frame.
Makes for interesting discussions anyway, pass the time trying your Sherlock Holmes caps.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 1:47 PM
Subject: RE: 12/02/09

Okay Hal, the following is a continuation of the story of a halfbreed family.

My father contracted to have the house on 12th avenue built.
It was built as a one story home with lots and lots of parking underneath. .
As soon as the house was finished, we moved in.

Then, out of the blue, my mother’s cousin visited us and told us that my mother’s parents were homeless.
During the war, we didn’t know it because no one could talk to my mother, my Gitchan was interned and had to
spend every day in the county office.
He could go home every night after dark.
This meant that the Japanese language school was closed.
His other source of income was Kona coffee beans which he and his workers harvested on the land that he leased.
His 3 sons had joined the one puka puka (the 100th Battalion).
With only my Batchan on the premises, the workers were slack and the revenue from the coffee beans dropped
precipitously.
They were always behind on the monthly lease payments.
They began to catch up after the war but when it was time to renew the lease, the bank would not renew the lease
because of his bad credit record.

The rest of his children were either not in the area or not in great financial shape.
My mother’s oldest brother was a year younger. He came back from the war, married and relocated to Seattle
Washington.
My mother’s middle brother came back from the war, got a job as a postal clerk, married his high school sweetheart
and moved in with her parents.
My mother’s youngest brother, came back from the war and moved in with us in Popo’s house in Honolulu.
Since my uncle couldn’t get a job, my parents hired him as a parts clerk at Pacific Motors.

My mother’s second younger sister, married, had 2 children.
Then her husband left to take a job in Guam.
He met someone there and abandoned my aunt and the children.
My aunt was making ends meet by running a barber shop in Kona.
She and her children lived in the back of the barber shop.
She was a good fisherman so they ate a lot of fish.
My mother’s next youngest sister married a Navy sergeant and moved to San Diego.
My mother’s youngest sister married and moved to Honolulu.
They lived in an efficiency in what was then a very low rent area on the outskirts of Waikiki, near the Ala Wai.

We didn’t know that my Japanese grandparents had moved to Honolulu because my grandfather was trying to find a
job teaching Japanese.
But after WWII there were no openings for a Japanese language teacher even in Honolulu.
So they would stay a month or so with whichever relative could take them but finally everyone was maxed out.
My Gitchan would not even think of asking for our help but my mother’s cousin said things were desperate.

My parents talked it over.
My Dad contracted for an in-law suite to be added under the 12th avenue house.
The property was pretty steep.
From the street it looked pretty level but the land sloped in such a way as to allow a huge parking area under the house.
When the house was built a solid foundation of cement covered the under story of the house to be used as a huge garage.
Large iron beams were placed in a frame to support the house.
The original architect redesigned part of the garage.
That part became a bedroom, a bath, a small kitchen and a small patio overlooking Honolulu.
The garage that was left still had plenty of room for at least 4 cars.
The in-law suite seemed to be built in no time.
I think the structural elements were already there.
There was no need for new support beams, new plumbing or wiring.
The major work was more or less cosmetic, e.g., putting up walls, painting them, installing furniture, including a built in
book shelf for my Gitchan’s Japanese books, and laying carpets on the cement floor.
My parents then invited my Japanese grandparents to come to see the unit and move in if they wanted to.
(My practical mom’s fallback position was that if her parents chose not to live with them, she would turn it into a rental.)
The only house dinner rules my father had were the whole family had to eat dinner together, the dishes were served
family style, and you could take as much or as little as you wanted but once you put something on your plate you had
to eat all of it.
This last rule only applied to children.

At these family meals I learned that the philosophy behind Japanese food was very different from the philosophy behind
Chinese food.
The Japanese philosophy behind food is that freshness and in season are key.
This means that raw is better than cooked fish.
On the other hand, the Chinese philosophy behind food is that nothing should be eaten raw, all greens even lettuce is
stir fried.
Food that is aged correctly are the most prized and delicious.
For example, thousand year old eggs.

I remember my Gitchan saying in Japanese, look at that beautiful fish our son in law brought for dinner.
The eyes are so clear it is a really fresh fish. He is putting shredded ginger and scallions in the cavity.
He is putting shoyu on the fish.
He is putting the fish in that bamboo container.
Very nice presentation.
Oh oh, why is he putting boiling water in the wok?
Why is he putting the bamboo container over the boiling water?
Oh no, my Gitchan said in disgust our Chinese devil son- in- law is cooking a perfectly good fish.
But because of the language barrier my father did not know what my grandfather was saying.

My Popo often came to dinner.
She would bring wonderfully cooked Chinese dishes to add to the meal.
Once she watched my Batchan cut a beautiful large piece of toro (belly tuna).
In Chinese she said how beautiful the fish was and how wonderful it would be when cooked.
My Batchan carefully cut the toro into sashimi and arranged the sashimi on a platter with sliced daikon and put it on
the table.
My Popo was admiring they way my Batchan had laid out the toro.
Then, my Popo said to my father in Chinese, son, I don’t think Batchan is going to cook the fish.
I think the Japanese devils are going to eat it raw!
Luckily because of the language barrier my Gitchan and Batchan had no idea what my Popo had said.
The only common language between my grandparents was Hawaiian.

Even food that might be viewed as identical to outsiders were not.
Japanese rice had to be short grain and stick together slightly to be good rice.
Chinese rice had to be long grain and not stick together to be good rice.
So every night we had two pots of rice at the dinner table.
Japanese rice and Chinese rice.
We could choose whatever we wanted.
I would eat a little of both.

Then there is soy or shoyu.
Japanese believe the fresher the better the shoyu.
If the shoyu was too old, my Gitchan would throw it out.
On the other hand, Chinese soy sauce should be aged like fine wine.
The better the brew, the longer it could be aged to be enjoyed.
We had two types on the table every night: soy sauce and shoyu.

The pickled vegetables or tsukemono that my Batchan served she made that day and we ate it that night.
She did not use sake so it was always freshly made that day.
She used daikon, napa cabbage, egg plant, mustard greens, cucumbers, carrots, radishes, and Rakkyo shallots.
The pickled vegetables that my Popo served had been pickled for weeks or months or even years.
She also used daikon, napa cabbage, egg plant, mustard greens, cucumbers, carrots, radishes, and shallots.
My Gitchan would avoid the Chinese pickled vegetables like the plague.
He couldn’t stand the smell of Kim Chee either.
Because of the smell, he considered them spoilt.
Today everybody in Hawaii seems to enjoy all the various ways that vegetables are pickled.
I noticed the blurring of the lines over the years.
I guess with 80 percent of the marriages in Hawaii being inter-marriages, the differences are not only being accepted,
they are being celebrated.

In the beginning my Batchan did not speak any English and my Gitchan simply refused to speak anything but Japanese
and Hawaiian.
My Popo spoke Chinese, English, and Hawaiian.
In retrospect, the language barriers probably helped them get comfortable with each other long enough to observe and
appreciate what fine people the others were.
Popo, Gitchan, and Batchan could express themselves in their biased ways without hurting each other’s feelings.
They simply didn’t understand when they were being berated or criticized.
As a child, I quickly learned both Japanese and Chinese.
But my parents wanted us to speak English.
They did not allow us to speak Chinese or Japanese.
As a result, I can understand what is being said but I cannot respond in either language.
I can only respond in English.
That meant I had no way of telling any of my grandparents the bad things that were being said by the other side.
In the long run this was very fortunate.

Soon Batchan said it was time for her to teach me Japanese flower arrangement.
So on Tuesday after school I went home to learn Japanese flower arrangement.
When Popo heard this she said it was time for her to teach me Chinese flower arrangement.
So on Thursday after school I went to the 14th avenue house to learn from Popo.
Here again the two cultures have different philosophies regarding the same activity.
Japanese flower arrangement is about control, balance and austerity.
It is very Zen.
Chinese flower arrangement is about profusion.
It is very explosive, like fireworks.

A traditional Japanese vase is usually a solid color, even black.
It can be square or rectangular.
The whole arrangement can be made of 3 perfectly placed flowers representing : heaven, man and earth.

A traditional Chinese vase is in the pattern of a thousand flowers, with gold rim, and many different kinds of flowers painted
in a plethora of colors.
The better vases are large.
Out of the vase shoots night blooming series, torch ginger, green ti leaves, peonies, etc.
Most Waikiki hotels have Chinese style flower arrangements.

One Tuesday my Popo was visiting the 12th avenue house while Batchan was teaching me Japanese flower arrangement.
My Popo saw 3 flowers so she called home to my uncle to pick a lot of flowers out of her 14th avenue garden and drop them
at the 12th avenue house.
When my uncle arrived with the flowers, my Popo told my Batchan in Hawaiian, here you can use all the flowers you want
to teach our granddaughter.
My Batchan hesitated, then smiled and graciously thanked my Popo in Hawaiian.

When Popo went home, I asked my Batchan hadn’t she felt insulted.
Batchan said, sometimes you must listen with your heart.
Your Popo was trying to help me by generously giving me flowers from her garden so I could teach you.
She did not intend to insult me.
So I interpreted Popos actions in the spirit in which she meant it.
Since then whenever I encounter a situation that could be interpreted as insulting, I do what my Batchan said, I listen with
my heart.
If no insult is meant I graciously take it in stride.
But if an insult is intentional, I will retaliate and even up the ante.

My father was a very, very compassionate man.
He understood how difficult it was for my proud Japanese Gitchan to be forced to rely on his Chinese son-in-law so he tried
to find ways for my Gitchan to maintain his dignity.
The 12th avenue property had a back lot large enough for another house.
But we couldn’t afford to build another house at the time.
So he told my grandparents, it was theirs to do with what they wished.
My grandmother planted vegetables and my grandfather planted an orchard that included banana, papaya, avocado, lemon,
guava, mango, figs, cherries, passion fruit, etc..
My father was pleased and suggested that my grandparents sell what they couldn’t use to some market in Kaimuki.
My grandparents did and now had a small but steady income.
My Gitchan loved to walk.
He would walk all over Oahu to visit his relatives.
He used the income to give presents to his relatives.

My father heard that my Gitchan’s dream had been to do well in Hawaii, visit his home in Japan, and take the traditional
presents to all his relatives there before he died.
So my father and mother secretly started to save money, first for the transportation costs, and then all the omiyage
(what Hawaii Japanese call gifts).
For my Gitchan’s 85th birthday, my parents gave him the money so he and Batchan could go home to Japan for a month.
Gitchan was always stoic, did not hug anyone and rarely smiled.
If he was very pleased he would say arigato.
You couldn’t expect any more from him.
At my Gitchan’s funeral, many of his relatives and friends came up to my father and told my father how much my Gitchan
loved his Chinese son in law.
This pleased my father.
Gitchan, of course, never directly told my father this.
When I asked my father how he felt, he said your Gitchan loved us.
He showed it by the way he meticulously kept the front and back yards neat and clean.
He kept the trees trimmed and swept the long driveway every morning.
Gitchan did this with humility, as if he were a yardman.
My father had also listened with his heart.

In those days, there was another philosophical difference between Chinese and Japanese when it came to human nudity.
The Chinese look down on any nudity, even between husbands and wives.
They make love under covers.
On the other hand the Japanese have no problem with human nudity.
It is acceptable for a whole village to take baths together in the fulo.
So when we were scheduled to visit my mother’s family in Kona, my mom decided we would go to the community fulo.
My Gitchan, Batchan, Dad, Mom, and me.
I don’t remember if my brother was with us.
My mom also invited Popo, who declined.
Later I heard her say to her Chinese friend, not only did her son marry Japanese, the whole family are perverts.
I found this nudity subject very interesting.
Especially, when one of the few times my Gitchan would open up and tell stories of his younger years was when we were
all naked and basking in the warm waters of the fulo together.

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----- Original Message -----
From: CarlYasudaSr
To: Hal Oshiro
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 11:56 AM
Subject: 12/02/09

I don't normally reply to a story or posting but, Bing's posting is not only amazing and revealing that I was moved
to thank her for sharing such a wonderful story.
It opened the hardship of life that our parents faced during a time that most of us may have forgotten and now have
reminded me of similar hardship that my parents went through trying to raise myself and my two sisters.
Of course I don't have the vivid memory that she has but my mind has wandered back in time because of her story.
So, I thank you Bing for sharing a part of your life with your classmates.
Mahalo, Carl

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----- Original Message -----
From: manuel mattos jr
To: hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 9:52 AM
Subject: RE: 12/02/09

Hi. every one, manny here.
Bing, I was raised by my grandmother.
When we were at home, she would talk to us only in Portuguese, very little English.
When I first met my wife, she was a 15yr. old part hawaiian girl, but on the dark side.
My senior year, we moved to moanalua gardens.
One night, my cousin told me that a girl was looking at me when we would get on the bus for school.
The next morning when we got on the bus, I asked him where was that girl.
He said , sonny, she is sitting right in front of you.
When I looked down, there was the most beautful part Hawaiian girl I have ever seen.
She was also looking at me at the same time.
When she saw me looking at her, she turned away.
She had long hair past her waist.
I turned to my cousin and said,,( word for word) Bobby, that is the girl I am going to marry.
That first image of her has not faded, and I can see her today just as clearly as if it was yesterday.
When my grandmother saw her, she said, in Portuguese, don't bring that black girl around here.
Well that was the end of my grandmother.
Didn't care if she liked her or not.
Twenty years later, at her bedside, as she was dying, who was there, my wife.
She called my wife to her side and said, Rosalind, I 'm sorry, you are too good for sonny, ( thats me).
Please forgive me, you are a good wife and mother.
Yes Bing, we all had that problem, some more then others.
My grandmother was right, that part Hawaiian girl was too good for me, but we are still side by side 50yrs. later.
Now that Statehood tree.
Roger and Hal, most likly the tree was a monkey pod.
The State and County at that time, would plant mostly monkey pod trees.
It was the only tree they knew existed.
When I come to honolulu, i will show our picture to my friend Vicky Caraway at DLNR.
She has a PHD and is in charge of all the native and endemic forests and woods in the state.
Monkey pod trees are very strong, I think it is still there.
After all we had our brightest students there planting, with exception, of Mr. Bert Itoga.
He must have thought Reverend AKAKA was so dumb, he had to tell him where to throw the dirt.
Luckly he didn't point to K. Kodama and D. ABE.
The investigation still goes on.
My investigation at this point tells me that something important is happening on the ground.
Every one is looking down.
Maybe we should find out who is that female behind the tree.
If anyone would know, it would be a female.
They know everything.
Jean, the word Tsunami comes from the Japanese word meaning harbor wave .
Remember we use to call them tidal waves.
No MOON involved in tsunamis .
Well, hope every one is well.
Stay and think young, just me Manny.

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----- Original Message -----
From: Roy Okano
To: Hal
Sent: Wednesday, December 02, 2009 9:49 AM
Subject: Re: 12/02/09

It was interesting to read the dialog between Betty and Bob.
I experienced not only Asian to Asian discrimination, but Anglo to Asian.
And yes, it was with the adults.
I'm glad our generation is more accepting or at least more tolerant.
I had a Chinese friend who had a beautiful sister. I'd go over to his home and we'd play together.
His mother who always say things like, "You good boy, but you not Chinese" or "How come you not Chinese?"
Later on years, she would tell me "You cannot marry my daughter.
She marry only Chinese".
I'd discuss it with my friend and his sister and they would only say "It's the way".
I haven't seen them in a while since I left the islands.
My "close to home" encounter was with my wife's family.
They could not see her marrying an Asian; no less a Japanese.
Her father was a Southern Baptist minister.
After several years, he came around to find me not so bad.
I, however, was disillusioned with religion and became an atheist.
My wife broke away from the church also.
He was upset and "disowned" her along with two of her brothers.
He is now a lonely man and I can only hope his god is giving him comfort.
My parents accepted my wife.
My mother was a wonderful woman and held no prejudices.
I was glad my grandfather was dead because he was a "samurai" and would not have tolerated my marrying
a white woman.
The parents of Bob's wife must have been wonderful people.
Bob always liked Chinese girls.
It would have been tragic if he couldn't marry a Chinese girl. : )
The world is slowly changing and more and more interracial marriages are occurring.
Hopefully, there will one day be only one race; the human race.

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December 2, 2009

Bing ! You've left us hanging !
I actually scrolled up and down through your message thinking I had accidentally jumped past a page or something...
surely there must be much more beyond 'The war was over'... and yes, I remember you telling us this story when we
visited you, but you left out so much then... awaiting the 'rest of the story'... by the way, thanks for your recipe
contribution, I've forwarded it to the recipe book committee... sounds ono.

Roger, I beg to differ... there may still be a glimmer of hope that the tree exists... check the pics I found Googling...
did so since I knew saplings sometimes don't look anything like their mature stage... just look at us, 50 years ago,
when we were just young saps and how we look now... the pic of the sapling monkeypod tree is strikingly similar
to the sapling in the '59 pic... I've also indicated where the tree may actually be... again, IF it still exists.
http://www.pbase.com/halinhi/khsmem

Hal


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----- Original Message -----
From: Bradshaw, Betty Ing
To: Hal
Sent: Tuesday, December 01, 2009 1:04 PM
Subject: RE: 12/01/09

Nuk: Asian versus Asian discrimination was with me before birth.
My whole young life was dominated by it.
I was not discriminated against by most of my classmates.
It was mostly with adults.

My Japanese mother and Chinese father dated for 10 years but didn’t get married because they knew their
families would not take it well.
I think Nuk is probably correct.
It was worst for them because they both came from high status families.

They lived in Honolulu.
Her father made her quit school at the end of the 6th grade to work as a waitress in a hotel in Waikiki.
She hated it.
He needed the income to put her 5 younger brothers and sisters through school.
She worked very hard for years and sent most of her paycheck to her parents.
She learned to be very resourceful. She worked full time and overtime if she was asked.
She also put herself through school to become a nurse because she hated being a waitress.
My parents met at Straub Clinic.
He was a patient.
She was a beautiful young nurse.

My father was raised as an only child.
He had 6 other siblings but they had grown up and left the house by the time my father was born.
My grandmother spoilt him rotten.
He graduated from Harvard University, Beijing Campus.
For work he handled his mother’s real estate.
She had made a lot of money selling Chinese groceries, crack seed and other produce.
With the money she bought a lot of stores in Chinatown and rented them out.
My father was a playboy who no one thought would ever marry.

Finally after my mother’s youngest sibling had graduated from business college, my father convinced my mother
to marry him in a civil ceremony.
I believe this was in 1939.

When my mother’s father on the big Island heard the news, he was enraged and immediately had a funeral for
my mom declaring my mother dead and forbade his wife and any of his other children to ever speak her
name again.
My mother was distraught, she didn’t think her father would go that far.
She was cut off from her family entirely.

Things went just as well on the Chinese side.
My father took my mother home to meet his mother.
He didn’t think his mother would be overjoyed but she would get over it since he was the favorite child.
A friend of his called my Popo so she wouldn’t be too surprised.
She waited for her youngest son and his Japanese bride on the second floor of her house with the windows open.
When she saw them coming up the steps, she emptied a kettle of steaming hot water aiming for my mother.
Luckily she missed.
She disowned my father.
My parents were stunned.
They had no relatives and my father had no job.

With my mother’s salary and my father’s contacts in the Chinese community they borrowed enough money to buy
land on Kapiolani Blvd, build a company called Pacific Motors, and win a Jeep parts franchise.
On the back they built a small kitchen and a small bedroom.
They also built an outdoor bathroom with a shower.
They barely squeaked by.
Then WWII came and the US Army needed Jeep parts.
Business picked up.
My mother quit being a nurse to help my father.
I was born and shortly after, my brother was born.
My brother was allergic to cow’s milk and many other foods so he stayed at the hospital for almost a year.
There wasn’t enough money for a baby sitter because all the money had to be used to repay the original mortgage
plus the additional borrowing to stock the growing number of Jeep parts to fill the orders from the Army,
and my brother’s hospital bills.
So we were kept in our play pens while our parents worked.
My brother was a quiet frail toddler.
I was not.
With no supervision I would find ways to keep myself occupied.
I’d even climb out of my play pen and crawl through the warehouse getting into some kind of trouble every day.
Also my mom was a terrible cook so we had oatmeal and crème of wheat a lot, with goat’s milk.

By the time I was almost three I desperately wanted attention.
My dad’s oldest sister, Esther Baker, would visit us a lot.
She did not get along well with the rest of her brothers and sisters.
Being the oldest she would try to tell them what to do and they resented it.
But my dad was not growing up with them so she treated him more like a nephew.
When she visited us, she would read to us and tell us stories.
She taught us the alphabet and began teaching us to spell.
I was fascinated by her. She was an elementary school teacher.
Her own children had grown up, married, and moved to the mainland.
She was recently widowed.
She had a large home full of books and crafts and she would babysit us on some Saturdays.
I think she was as lonely as I was bored.
So I asked my father if I could live with Aunt Esther.
My parents let me live with Aunt Esther that summer.
She taught me how to read the comics by the time I turned 3 years old.
She was very patient with me.
She took me everywhere with her … to the Honolulu Academy of Arts, the Iolani Palace, downtown Chinatown,
the Pali, Tantalus to ride the ti leaves down the mud trails, and everywhere.
During that summer I was in heaven.

At about the same time, my Chinese Popo got adult onset diabetes.
In those days no one could afford a daily home visit from a doctor or nurse.
There was no health insurance.
Instead, you had to be institutionalized to receive your insulin shots.
The technology was very primitive.
No Chinese matriarch would live long in an institution.
My Popo agonized over her diagnosis for days.
Then she remembered that the son she had disowned several years ago was married to a nurse.
Out of desperation, she called my father and asked whether my mom could give her the daily insulin shots.
My father said that he needed his wife to work with him because he couldn’t handle the business alone.
And he had no money or time to drive his wife all the way to Kaimuki and back every day.

My Popo was not rich by accident.
She knew how to negotiate.
She suggested that my father and his family move to her house on 14th avenue and take all the bedrooms
on the first floor.
That she would move to one of the 4 bedrooms on the second floor.
She would keep a maid and a yard man so my parents wouldn’t have to clean up the house or do laundry or iron
or do any yard work.
She had a new stove.
She would buy the food and cook the meals.
She was an excellent cook.
All this in return for daily insulin shots and hopefully her daughter in law would not kill her.
I think the cooking part swayed my parents.
They agreed.
That summer my parents and my brother moved in with Popo and my brother had his own room.
At the end of the summer I moved back in with my family at Popo’s house and I had my own room.
Every summer I would move back to my Aunt Esther’s and at the end of summer I would move back to Popo’s house.

With free room and board for the family, my parents saved a lot of money.
Over time the technology changed and it became easier for insulin to be administered at home.
It was time for my parents to move to their own home.
They bought the little beach house on Paiko Drive and after awhile we moved there and one of my father’s brothers
and his wife moved in with Popo.
Years later, before my Popo died, she gave my mom her best jewelry and told everyone at the Chinese Congregational
Church near McKinley High School, that of all the daughters she had, my mom was the best.

After we were born, my Japanese grandmother begged my Japanese grandfather to relent because she wanted to see
her grandchildren.
He finally gave in and we visited in the summer when I was 5.
It was coffee picking time, so my mom and I made ourselves useful by helping.
My grandfather was cool to us but my grandmother was so warm and wonderful.
I still remember her hugs.

When we lived at Paiko it was in the booneys, I think mostly farms.
The commute was hard on my parents so they began looking for a home closer in.
My mom was very frugal.
But they had only saved enough to put a down payment and qualify for a loan to buy the property on 12th avenue.
About every other week end for about a year my father, brother and I worked as a team to tear down the old house
that was on that property.
The war was over, the need for Jeep parts had subsided so my mom could handle the parts store and rentals by herself
during the weekends.



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----- Original Message -----
From: Roger Kobayashi
To: Hal
Sent: Tuesday, December 01, 2009 6:53 AM
Subject: Re: 12/01/09

Harold:
I don't believe that the Statehood Tree is still there.
I drove past the Kaimuki Avenue/Kapiolani Boulevard intersection (twice) and saw only monkeypod and coconut trees.
I can't identify the Statehood Tree from the photo, but know that its not either one of those.
So, like the time capsule, we appear to have been seeking something that was no longer there.
Roger


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dec 1, 2009

Wow, already the last month of the year... how did the time sneak by so fast.
I know for myself, these blog messages have helped to make time fly without my noticing... yet they've also managed to
sort of stretch the enjoyment of the passing time since they started 9 months ago in March.

Dropped by the KHS campus the other day to see if I could locate the Statehood tree... went to the main office to obtain
permission to take a pic if I did... gal I spoke to suggested I speak to the Assistant Librarian when I told her the purpose
of my request, thinking that the A.L. might have info on the tree... did so and had a nice conversation with the A.L. who
was also nice enough to print out a landscape sketch of their tree-trimming schedule that identified the type of most of
the trees... unfortunately she'd never heard of the tree nor was she able to find a record of it in their archives... she did
say though that she'd heard about a 30(?)-year time capsule being recovered near the flagpole but that it happened
around the '90s and was in such bad condition that most of the items were unrecognizable... I did take a few shots of the
trees out front but after checking them out later I realized that, although I had the right area, I may have concentrated on
the wrong trees... will post what I shot on the Pbase website when I have a chance and stick a link here next time.

Hal