From time to time, in moments of quiet, I enjoy reflecting on some of the images that remain with me from my youth. Born in Honolulu, Territory of Hawai‘i in the middle of World War II, my first memories are of this small town which had become a big focal point during and after the war effort. Back then, everybody walked or took the bus to where they were going. Both walks and rides on the bus would be accompanied by a constant stream of greeting others and exchanging pleasantries with people you knew. It seemed everyone was related to everyone. We lived at the mauka/Diamond Head corner of Ward and Lunalilo streets where many people walked by or got off at the bus stop in front of our house, and it seemed like my Mother, Dad, Uncle, or Aunt knew every person who passed by. There was a physical “connectedness” to life in Honolulu in the l940’s. People engaged one another and your life was populated by people who knew you, your family, and most of your neighbors. Quite different a landscape than today’s email and texting foundation for relationships.

Small events stand out in my early memories as a child under five years old. I remember clearly the days my cousins and I would all go down the street to Thomas Square and search underneath the wili wili tree for the bright red beans Mom would sew into denim bags, which we used to throw at each other in a game of bean bag tag. Since I was the youngest, it seemed like I always lost the battles. Another sharp picture in my mind is waiting on our rock wall above the bus stop for Chinese Aunty to return from shopping in Chinatown. It was always assumed that Chinese Aunty was a relative who came over as a very young child on the same ship my grandfather Ah Fung Chock came on from China.

She was sort of a child bride and ultimately married a man in Kohala who contracted leprosy and was remanded to a leper colony at Kalaupapa. Aunty raised all five of her children on one acre of rice land and made sure all of them received an education. All his life, my grandpa cared for Aunty and her family and, in turn, as she entered old age she became my caregiver and lived much of her later life in our home as my “Popo” (Chinese Grandmother). She was a wonderful, loving person who would visit her sons and daughters, but often had trouble getting along with her daughters-in-law and would regularly end up back at our home. Aunty did the cooking and all of the ironing in addition to keeping track of me when I was younger. The big event, however, was her periodic return from shopping in Chinatown, for inevitably, deep down in the recesses of her brown paper shopping bags there would emerge small packets of stained wrapped paper containing the most delicious Chinese cracked seed and preserved fruits. To this day my mouth waters when I think of those oft repeated scenes of Aunty’s return home from the market.

Another memory involving Chinese Aunty was the day I discovered her teeth in a glass in the bathroom of our Lunalilo Home. It was truly a revelation for a three or four year old to come upon such an amazing sight! I can remember clearly how the glass and the water magnified her dentures and can almost feel how startled I was in coming to grips with this reality!

An important weekly event for me, my cousins, and the other neighborhood kids was to sit on our front lawn which stood a little above the city, and watch the Navy’s Mars amphibious monster plane wing over the city after taking off from the sea plane runway in Ke‘ehi lagoon. It was the largest plane in service and demanded your attention as it curved over the city and headed to California. Every performance provided young children in 1947 an abundance of thrills and lots and lots of material for discussions and dreams.

I trust all of us can conjure up thoughts of our youth that encourage us and keep us grounded and anchored in good places! Blessings.

 

January 3, 2011.