Interesting Islanders

Meet Alana Yamamoto

Some people go the extra mile. That's 49-year-old Alana Yamamoto, one of the Front Office Managers at the King Kamehameha Hotel in Kona. In fact, she's way ahead of the pack of other service professionals in her area.
I had the pleasure of meeting Alana during one of those spur-of-the-moment treks around the world. Okay, it was to West Hawaii, but oftentimes it feels farther away.
However, it happened to be one of those weekends of various sports tournaments and gatherings that left not a single room in town. Literally.
All the hotels in the area were called. Several times. Most who answered were curt, perhaps overwhelmed by too many people wanting rooms in their inn. Perhaps they were tired of hearing my voice.
In all my last minute pleas for help there was only one person who was polite, asking for a name and cell phone number. It was Alana.
Despite the lack of lodging, the urge to go and get away for a "girl" time was stronger than the lack of a place to put our heads, so my friend Pam and I left on a "faith walk" of sorts.
We spent the day in the area, doing various fun things that can only be done when husbands aren't around to roll their eyes or say "Doesn't that cost too much?"
With dinner finished and the sun waning to dusk, we let out a disappointed sigh and headed for the car. It was time to go home.
So much for faith.
Then, the phone rang. I fumbled through my purse, unable to answer before it stopped ringing. I looked at the number. I recognized the number of the hotel that had taken my name and phone number earlier in the day. Not only that, there was a message.
It was Alana. Faithful to her early morning promise, she called back to say there had been an early check out and a room was now available for us. I tried to call back but she was tied up with other customers. I was put on hold, but that didn't stop two desperate wahines. We jumped in the car wikiwiki and sped to the hotel.
The cell phone was still glued to my ear when we entered the lobby. There wasn't a line at the front desk. I asked for Alana and the girl pointed to the end of the counter. There she stood, behind the long desk, smiling and helping a tourist in need.
After she finished, Alana turned to me and flashed another big smile. Pretty good for someone who had been assisting people all day long.
After all, I was just someone off the street. A stranger. A nobody. Or so she thought. We finished the room transaction before I revealed who I was and politely asked for an interview.
She was shocked, but was able to regain her composure long enough to answer a few questions. It turns out Alana's been in hotel business for more than 25 years. This wife and mother said it's her life's work and she loves being involved in it. It's also a job this 49-year-old lifetime Kona resident takes very seriously, yet always with the true spirit of aloha.
"My pleasure here at the front desk is that I love meeting and greeting people," she said. "I just love being involved. It's a good field. I really like it. Everyday is a challenge."
Alana is also a true optimist and truly believes it's a good day when she can make people feel good through her actions.
"To me, the people are the thing and I'm a messenger to ease people's tension, a messenger of hope," she said. "I love to be a part of people's lives, bringing them joy and making them smile."
For her, the idea of hotel hospitality extends beyond the mainland tourist--it's for the kamaaina too and she works hard to make sure everyone has a place.
"I'm a local girl, an island girl," Alana said. "It's like, to me, inviting the locals is the most important thing. It's like welcoming them into our home. I want them to come and appreciate and share. I want them to just come and enjoy. It's my way of saying thank you."
Her aloha is genuine and overflowing. It stems from the days Alana roamed the grounds as a keiki, long before the resort was built. Now she desires to share the history of the land so others can understand the value this particular aina to the Hawaiian culture.
She also enjoys teaching the younger generation about the land and the true aloha spirit so they can both work with pride and pass it on to others.
"I hope to be a role model," Alana said. "I want to be a mentor. I just want to share my knowledge of Kona before it was all built up."
It turned out to be a great weekend away. There was something deeply satisfying knowing after traveling many miles that there's someone willing to go the extra mile. Alana, you're one of a kind. I know you love to make people smile and I'm grinning from ear to ear just thinking about you.
 

Interesting Islanders

Meet William "Shell" Herring

Shell sews seashells at the Starbucks.
Say that three times fast and you're describing 52-year-old William "Shell" Herring, often found stringing thousands upon thousands of teeny tiny, yes, miniscule Kahelelani shells at the above mentioned caffeine producing establishment in Waimea.
The funny thing is, this guy doesn't even like coffee.
The management doesn't seem to mind his presence, however. They've sort of adopted this friendly guy as their "artist in residence."
And forget calling him by his given name. He's found a better one that better fits his personality.
"Everybody calls me Shell," he said. "That way they remember who I am."
Some days Shell doesn't sew, he sorts. Oftentimes it takes up to eight hours of measuring to come up with one small vial of matching shells. It's a labor of love, but it's Shell's passion and he does it willingly.
Each shell means the world to this talented soul because he's painstakingly gathered each and every one.
Shell spent two-and-a-half years camping out on the North Shore of Kauai. Each night he would don an LED light, go to the shoreline and spend countless hours down on hands, elbows and knees collecting his precious treasure.
"I love the shells," he explained. "It's more than a hobby, it's my vocation."
After the gathering, Shell returned to the Big Island, the place he calls home.
"There's no place in the world like the Big Island," he said. "I've been around the world and I keep coming back."
Yet, he still camps out and calls a tent home. It's a simple life, but one he enjoys.
"I don't have a home, I camp," Shell said. "I love living outdoors. I love to hear the wind and the waves. Where my shells are elegance, my lifestyle is simplicity. I have two shirts, two shorts and two pairs of sandals. I don't have a lot. I don't need a lot and I don't want a lot."
Despite his lifestyle, he's meticulously clean, taking two showers a day at a gym where he is a member. His clothes are even spotless.
The hardest thing for Shell is parting with the "royal jewels" once reserved only for the ruling class known as the Alii.
They have to go to be worn by the right person, he said.
"They are something I can't sell," Shell said. "The shells I have are very, very old. Very rare. I can't explain the process, the shells to you and make you have the desire to possess one. The people that see me doing this need to have one."
Once the right person is found, Shell blesses the Kahelelani with positive Hawaiian words.
"Three intentions or blessings are said over the shells before I sell them to someone," he said. "Then I let it go."
Yes, Shell sews seashells at the Starbucks. And, a whole lot more.
 

Meet Harold Eberly White

Human nature is a fickle thing. When sorely tested, it tends to run away from the bad things. Uncomfortable things. Sad things.
Ask 82-year-old Harold Eberly White. Harold knows a lot about the subject of mankind. He's seen the best of humanity. He's experienced the worst. It's all in his history -- the good, the bad and the ugly.
It's been a long life, and through it all Harold's learned to be brave. It came as no surprise to spot him recently at a poolside bar in Kona, finishing lunch, chatting and joking with those around him.
The smiling face was a clever guise for the depression and loneliness he's been feeling since he lost his beloved wife, Georgetta Ruth, three months ago to cancer at their home in Apache Junction, Arizona. The couple had been married for 61 years, and a few short months couldn't erase his longing for her.
Yes, Harold needed a change. He needed to run away, but deep down inside he felt the inexplicit desire to run to something. Something from his past. The distant past.
That brought him to Hawaii. Oahu first. Then a quick trip to the Big Island.
The warm tropical breezes and swaying coconut trees brought Harold back to a bygone era. A simpler time. The days of strength and young adulthood.
Harold was ready to take on the world then. He was full of life. Vim and vigor. His girl--his future wife--waiting back home for him with all the hopes and dreams their young love could muster.
Life was grand. So grand, in fact, that Harold visited a tatoo parlor one Saturday evening in Honolulu and had a tatoo put on his upper left arm in "Ruthie's" honor.
The next morning Harold woke up. The pain and sensitivity was still there, but he couldn't help admire the new emblem of his love for his special gal.
All of that changed in one second. First explosions. Then sirens. The orders followed, "All men to your battle stations."
It was December 7, 1941. Harold was stationed on the Farragut, a battleship anchored between the Aylwln and Dale on the west end of Pearl Harbor.
Everyone moved fast, trying desperately to survive the chaos. The bombs. Torpedoes. The smoke.
"I can remember that day as if it were yesterday," Harold said. "Everyone was afraid, but they did their jobs."
Another set of orders quickly followed to move the ship out to open seas. They were able to save the boat, but not others. As the ships around the harbor burned beyond recognition, so did the memories of that day sear into Harold's mind.
"Our ship went by the Arizona four minutes after it was gone," Harold remembered. "We saw men swimming for their lives among the oil slick in the harbor but we couldn't stop to pick them up because we thought Hawaii was going to be invaded."
The Farragut was a lucky tub. It went on to fight proudly all during World War Two, surviving a brutal typhoon in Iwa Jima.
Harold continued to serve his country faithfully, earning a total of seven medals, including a purple heart for getting shot in the eye during the Coral Sea Battle.
"The bullet went in one eye and out the back of my head," Harold said. "Now I have a metal plate in the back of my head and my eyes are crooked."
Fast forward to an old veteran of war sitting on the barstool in Kona, finishing his sandwich and talking about his life. A living, breathing piece of history, telling of his recent visit to Oahu, paying homage and tribute to his past. To that one fateful day at Pearl Harbor.
It was an emotional journey for Harold. Perhaps it's because a lonely sailor sees Pearl Harbor as a symbol of womanhood -- a warm, nuturing bay eagerly bidding all tired sailors and ships to come and rest in her port.
The memories flooded in when Harold stepped onto the Arizona Memorial, and he couldn't hold back any longer.
The grieving of Ruthie and Pearl intermingled, releasing Harold from the two greatest women in his life. It turned out to be a good day. A cathartic day. A time for healing and peace.
"I bawled like a baby when I got to the Arizona," he said. "The tears rolled down my eyes. I couldn't hold myself back. I cried worse than when my wife died."
In one day Harold hugged his past goodbye and embraced the future. Sure, he still needs to use a wooden cane to steady himself, but a new man has emerged. One that will never run away, from anything, again.
 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Brenda May Kuuipouluwehi Chapman

It happened one random morning. It always sneaks up that way. One quick look in the mirror and the truth was revealed. I was disappearing, becoming non-existent. Dull and lifeless hair -- hovering precariously between dirty dishwasher blonde and brown mousey -- crowned my mortified face like a used mop.
Eek.
People of the female persuasion know this one fact of life holds steadfast and true -- a woman's identity is completely wrapped up and intertwined in the roots of her hair and, for me, that strong sense of self-esteem enjoyed only yesterday was fading rapidly.
My 18-year-old daughter, Bethany, responded quickly to the loud, guttural groans coming from deep within this old body. After one look, she suggested calling a certain salon in Hilo.
Shakily, I dialed the number, sending up a quick prayer that I would find a stylist of my dreams. A person with a gentle touch. One who could highlight hair like a pro and bring my miserable self-image back to life. Whoever it was would need a great personality. He or she would have to be a good listener -- always a must with hair dressers. And, a great counselor. That's always top on the list.
It was a tall order to fill on such short notice, but I summoned every drop of faith and made an appointment. That's how I met 46-year-old Brenda May Kuuipouluwehi Chapman. She took one look at my pathetic state and began immediate CPR for the hair.
A hefty 16 years of experience in the field of cosmetology made Brenda a natural at diagnosing and fixing my folic-ally challenged state. She calmed me down and listened patiently to all my hair-raising tales. A diatribe to most, she smiled wide, giving a positive sign everything was going to be all right.
"Relationships with others is important," Brenda mused in a soothing voice. "Talking to one another. You have to be a psychologist in this profession. You do. You have to know how to counsel people."
I began to relax and see myself clearly in the mirror. And I began to ask questions. Lots of questions.
I found out Brenda is a 1975 graduate of Farrington High School on Oahu. She had to travel all the way across the country to meet her husband, Rodney, a fair skinned, red-headed southerner from Atlanta, Georgia at the Teen Challenge Bible Institute in Pennsylvania during the early 1980s.
The couple fell in love, got married in June 1983 and worked on Maui for a short time at a drug rehabilitation center before moving to Hilo 19 years ago to start and raise a family.
During that time Brenda completed a degree in Anthropology and Communications at the University of Hawaii, Hilo Campus, which is actually the perfect degree for someone who loves to be with people and wala'au all day long.
"I love to be around people," Brenda said. "I figure what better way to do that but through this job. I feel solid here."
I floated out of the salon that day, feeling whole and happy again. Brenda had succeeded. The nasty roots had gone through a complete makeover and my self-worth was totally transformed.
Although I was Brenda's last appointment for the day, it wasn't the end of work for this nurturing woman. After hours she volunteers for the "Look Good, Feel Better" program run by the American Cancer Society. She helps women suffering from cancer to regain their inner strength, dignity and beauty. Yes, she makes other women visible and vibrant too.
"I teach the women how to take care of their skin, hair, nails and face," Brenda said. "It blesses me to bless others. I love touching and encouraging people. I'm never running on empty. I'm fulfilled."
A beautiful reflection of a lovely and talented woman, one whose gentle and sweet spirit flows effortlessly into every part of her life and into both the hearts and onto the heads of the people living around East Hawaii.











 

Meet Cino Torricer

He's in love and he's all shook up.
Yes, there is an Elvis fan in the house...well, his house anyway, and it's obvious the owner has a hunka hunka burnin' love for the King of Rock and Roll.
That would be 67-year-old Cino Torricer, a diminutive man with a huge heart of aloha and stacks of memorabilia revolving around the life and times of Elvis Presley.
Got a question about the King? Ask his loyal subject.
Want to see Elvis' image? Make way for the photo albums.
Want a postcard...well, you get the picture.
From felt hats to replica belts, here is nothing this avid collector doesn't have at his fingertips.
To call this ultimate fan a pack rat would be an understatement. The room, excuse me...the shrine, is filled with mugs, tee-shirts, newspaper articles, dolls and other assorted items a person would have only if their love for Elvis was as deep as it was wide.
Cino had bought two complete Elvis collections before he slowed down to a simmer and started an official Elvis "Rock-A-Hula Fan Club in Hilo during the early 1990s.
"I'm involved with my Elvis things because I love his music," he said. "I collect his memorabilia because I've always been a collector at heart."
Cino pays particular attention to Elvis' concerts and movies made in Hawaii. This includes the 1961 hit film, "Blue Hawaii," filmed on the islands of Oahu and Kauai. His 1962 film "Girls, Girls, Girls" was filmed locally in Milolii. "Paradise Hawaiian Style", filmed in 1966, was a follow-up to Elvis' undying success with the local culture.
More importantly, Cino attended and taped both of Elvis' 1972 and 1973 concerts at the Honolulu International Center on Oahu. Unfortunately, Cino misplaced the reel-to reel recordings, until recently, when he found them and was able to make a CD to share with other fans.
Cino has also developed new skills to enhance his fascination. He learned how to use the computer and has used it to create graphics and artwork with Elvis as the centerpiece. He recently won a fan appreciate award as a "fan favorite" for his tireless efforts in creating newer images of Elvis from older media.
And, if that wasn't enough, each year, during the anniversary of Elvis' death on August 16, 1977, Cino flies to Memphis, Tennessee with thousands of other followers to attend various events during "Elvis Week" at Graceland. This includes an open house reception, trivia contest and concerts given by those who played with Elvis.
During the week, this ultimate fanatic, donned in a tropical red and white flower hat and bright Elvis tee-shirt also watches many of Elvis' old movies, takes special tours, participates in a scavenger hunt on the property, enjoys a Gospel Brunch.
Cino said it's a special time of comaraderie for those who love Elvis as much as he does. He brings bags of chocolate covered macadamia nuts and business cards to pass out during the week long event.
"The people you meet at Graceland are so kind," he said. "I meet a lot of nice people who are also Elvis fans. They are just like the people in Hawaii. They are very warm, open and loving."
Asked if he's planning on giving up his obsession any time soon the answer is a firm "no" -- his love is both tender and true.
"I am a part of Elvis Presley's ohana," Cino said. "I'll always remember the memories Elvis left us. I am a fan for life. It keeps me busy. It keeps my mind going."
 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Ameilia Walker

It was a wonderful day at Richardson's Beach Park. Beautiful, glorious. Pristine. A day to spread an oversized towel on the ground, plop down and read a good book.
Light clouds pulled themselves snug over the volcanic peaks, keeping the bright rays of the sun at a reasonable level. The glassy ocean covered the sea life, as it has done for many a millennium, protecting all creatures great and small.
A patch of pine needles fallen near the shore gently spread themselves out over a colony of ants. And, Cheryl Amelia Walker sat contently on a mat, crocheting a multi-colored blanket to be finished and used someday to cover someone she loves.
Yes, that's how I met Amelia. That's what she likes to be called. Her hands were busy looping thread over a long needle -- knitting one, pearling two or doing whatever it is industrious people do to make a colorful homemade blanket right on the beach during a lovely mid-summer's day.
It should have surprised me to see such a sight, but I've come to expect the unexpected on the Big Island. It's an eclectic group of people that never fail to make interesting eye-candy for nosey people such as myself.
This teacher from Hilo High School was no exception. Yet, in an instant I realized Amelia was exceptional, and I was drawn to her.
Amelia was taking advantage of a work holiday. She took the summer off as a Food Science, Health, Career and Life Skills teacher for special education students and her life as a student at the University of Hawaii, and was enjoying some time at the beach with her two daughters, nine-year-old Bindu and seven-year-old Kundalini.
While the two girls played on the shoreline, Amelia watched them with her eyes while working steadily with her hands.
"This is my summer project," she said of the crocheting. "This is what excites me. I like the way it makes me feel. Just to bring a basket and crochet on the beach brings me great joy. I love to be creative."
If sitting on the beach, enjoying the surf, sand and a craft passed down throughout the generations--is a peace-filled preoccupation, well then, that's exactly what Amelia intended when she moved from Philadelphia, PA almost three years ago.
In fact, she moved to the Big Island right after Sept. 11, 2001, when the world was in chaos, fighting faceless terrorists and other evils that go bump in the night.
Amelia didn't make the move to pull the proverbial blanket over her eyes. Instead, she came to the islands to wrap her children in a lifestyle offering comfort and protection.
"I moved here because it is a safer place to raise children," she said. " I don't have the anxiety. I don't worry about the children. I really like the peacefulness. The safety. I definitely want to stay here until I get my children grown and out of school."
Ah, I could see what she was really creating--a multicolor blanket of love, tenderly knit from a mother's heart and gently warming her children's hearts with joy, happiness, gentleness and goodness.
Yes, it was a great day at Richardson's Beach. The conversation with Amelia ended. I took my belongings to a shady spot, wrapped myself in a towel, put the book over my face and fell asleep.
There would be another time to read. For the moment I would doze off in peace. Blessed peace--an excellent day to snuggle in and enjoy the life that surrounds, embraces and covers us each and every day in East Hawaii.





 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Al Konishi

Who da guy? Who da guy?
Who da guy wearing a bright pink bandana around his neck?
It was a day of regatta canoe club races at Hilo Bay. Hundreds of people lined the shore. Many chose the shade of temporary canopies lined with wooden paddles. All were waiting for their next race or cheering on others in their respective club.
Yet, there was this guy with a pink scarf. He stood out from among the large crowd.
It was more than the bold choice of neckwear, however. He was joking and laughing with his teammates while cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. It was obvious this beacon of pinkness was having more fun than anyone on the beach.
It was time for a closer look. Auwe. Da kine had pink sleepahs and a wallet to match too.
Who was this man who actually looked pretty in pink?
Turns out it was Hilo resident Al Konishi, the county clerk for the entire island. A lawyer by trade.
But, that's just his day job.
His passion, his "real" passion is the ocean. This love affair began on Oahu, where Al grew up. This 1970 graduate of St. Louis spent much of his youth surfing at various beaches around the island.
Unlike Peter Pan in Wonderland, however, Al had to grow up and get a job. His only hope was finding a job near the ocean. That happened when he moved to Hilo and became a member of the Keaukaha Canoe Club.
"This is my dream come true," Al said. "I was a beach bum then, I'm a beach bum now and I'll be a beach bum forever."
When the 51-year-old wasn't racing in the senior division, he was busy as a boatholder for the various races.
That meant Al had the important job of holding the individual canoes before each race. It was his job to keep the narrow boat from drifting. It's a difficult job, he said, involving a vast amount of treading in the water, waiting for the boats to complete their quarter mile to one-and-a-half mile races.
At the end of the day, however, it urns out the county clerk's pink wardrobe isn't a fetish. Al said he started to wear pink slippers, rash guards, fins and the rest to ward off thieves.
"It all started with slippers," he said. "I noticed if you wear pink slippers that no one steals them."
Now, Al said, it's his identity, a trademark that has turned into a conversation piece.
"It's just fun," he said. "People wonder about it. It's a unique thing because a lot of men won't wear pink."
It certainly worked for me.
Unfortunately, Al doesn't wear a pink hat because he hasn't found one he likes yet. Don't worry Al, It's time to clean out my closet. I'm sure there is one in there you can try on for size. Anyone else?
After all, you da guy!



 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Sylvia Wan

Teenagers are often given a bad rap. The general population usually doesn't hear about them unless they've done something foul or committed a crime.
Gone unnoticed are the good ones trying to work, go to school, earn their way to a better life in order to make a positive impact on society.
Take 19-year-old Sylvia Wan, for example.
I met this jewel of a young lady while spending some time at Volcano House. She was working in the gift shop with the beautiful view of Haleamaumau Crater. While browsing the store I couldn't help but notice she was really working.
Not snapping gum, twirling her hair or talking on the phone as adults would come to expect of juvenile behavior.
No. This self-motivated gal thoughtfully assisted me in my gift selection before turning her attention to unpack inventory, carefully unwrapping the fragile wares before pricing them and putting them on the shelves.
Turns out Sylvia's been working at the Volcano House for two years. And here's the kicker--she is a floater--meaning Sylvia shows up for work and actually does whatever job they have planned for the day.
And she loves it.
The truth is, Sylvia is grateful. For her job. Her family. The life she has on the Big Island.
Four years ago Sylvia moved with her entire family to Volcano from Palm Beach County, Florida. After graduating from Waiakea High School in 2002, Sylvia became a political science major at the University of Hawaii, Hilo Campus.
As if she doesn't have enough on her plate, Sylvia said she is currently "shopping around" for two minors, most likely in economics or philosophy.
In her spare time, this active teen loves to hike around the aina, taking pictures along the way.
"It is naturally beautiful on the Big Island," Sylvia said. "There's no trying, it just is. It's so different from South Florida where everything is planted and manufactured. Here it is so random and not man made. I love to take pictures and capture the beauty that is there. It's almost priceless. It is priceless."
It comes as no surprise that Sylvia is happy at work. Doing her best. Trying her hardest. This job is the means to reaching her goals. Fulfilling her dreams.
The money she saves working part-time will help pay for her needs during the coming school year. That, in turn, will afford her the opportunity to spend a lot of quality time on her studies.
After she graduates with a BA, Sylvia hopes to go on to law school. Here's the kicker--she wants to help others.
"I want to become an immigration lawyer because there are so many people flowing in and out of the island," she said. "It seems like a good thing to do."
A great thing indeed, Sylvia.
Cheers to a wonderful teen that actually made the front page of the newspaper and is probably, by far, the best news of the day.
 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Denise "Lisa" Grover

It's been said everyone should all perform random acts of kindness throughout the day. However, I don't believe these gestures are random. They may be spontaneous, but they don't just happen.
An act of kindness begins with a heart of empathy. It belongs to a person who has awakened with the morning light and determined to make the world a better place. It's someone who puts their needs, their bottom line aside to help a friend or stranger.
I am the latter. I didn't know 53-year-old Denise "Lisa" Grover, the owner of Pizza Hawaii in Honomu, until last week. Then, something happened and her true character was revealed.
It all started when my husband, Brian, and I were out and about on his day off and decided to stop for a bite to eat at Lisa's establishment. By the time we ordered my husband was having a mild hypoglycemia attack. However, it became full-fledged--almost to the brink of passing out--while the food was being prepared.
Not wanting to create a panic, I decided to go back inside the restaurant and buy some potato chips. The counter girl asked Lisa for advice on how to handle the situation and she immediately poured out a big plate of Maui "good as gold" potato style chips.
When I asked to pay for them, she said "No, no. You go take care of your husband."
The carbohydrates did the job and all returned to normal. Lunch was served and we ate the delicious meal set before us. All the while I couldn't get Lisa out of my mind. So I did the only thing a good writer can do, I went back inside to thank her and decided to do some snooping and find out more about her.
The best word to describe Lisa is nice. She is genuinely nice. And kind. And sweet. A kindred spirit. Okay, so there are many ways to portray her.
The best way to test these words as true is to further explain that Lisa was born and raised in Honomu. She left for the mainland in 1970 and didn't return until 1989 to help take care of her ailing father. She brought her husband and several of her five children back with her and decided to stay and make a difference in the community.
She began working as an employee of Pizza Hawaii many years ago and decided to purchase the Honomu location last Fall. By day she faithfully serves the many tourists on their way to or from Akaka Falls. At night, she explains that business is mostly the "local population."
No matter where people are from, however, there is a consensus. Everyone seems happy. The food is excellent and service is always provided with a warm smile, filled with aloha.
"I enjoy everything about owning this business," Lisa said shyly. "I enjoy talking to people. I love my helpers. They are adorable. I'm really particular on my food--how it goes out. I'm really interested in quality. It's good pizza. The business is good. People keep coming back."
As a satisfied customer, I understand. Those words are backed up with actions that show Lisa's heart...and it's good as gold. Better than Maui style potato chips. It's just what was needed to get the job done, turning struggling strangers into a beaming friends. I'll take another serving please. Mahalo!



 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Charles Rillamas

The Hilo Farmer's Market is an addictive place to go for those who love to watch people. It just so happens my mom, Kay, a visitor from the mainland, and I were meandering through the endless rows of vendors when we came upon 59-year-old Charles Rillamas.
There he sat smiling, resting comfortably under the shade of his large brimmed straw hat. His eyeglasses were strategically posed midway on his nose while his gloved hand held the chisel adeptly working out the details of a most unusual, yet beautiful wooden statue.
A pretty picture to be sure.
'Hand me your camera,' I begged my mother and she complied.
Snap, snap...snap.
"Eh, if you gonna take pictures, you gonna take me wit you, so I like know where I stay going," Uncle Charlie said with a toothless grin.
"Knoxville, Tennessee," my mom replied.
"Where dat?" asked this native Hawaiian man as he gently cradled the wood, touching it lightly before continuing his work.
"Near the Smoky Mountains," she answered.
The conversation became a blur as the two began to discuss the reasons why the mountain chain found in Eastern Tennessee is called "Smoky." It had something to do with vegetation, but, honestly, I was too busy watching Uncle Charlie's facial expressions. The lines on his face, the light that danced from his eyes, reflecting his gentleness and joy.
His wisdom.
You see, through the years this 1963 Kaimuki graduate, father and "grandfadda" has learned it's what a man possesses on the inside that counts. Forget materialism. Forget stuffs. This country kanaka and former carpenter moved from Palolo Valley on Oahu to King's Landing in Hilo almost two years ago in order to simplify his life.
He lives in a home with no electricity and no bathroom, but he's happy. At least he has an outhouse and a battery-powered generator, he laughed and mused.
He loves to listen to the wood, work it patiently with his hands and talk story. Fortunately, the farmer's market provides ample opportunity to accomplish all three.
"My carving is a labor of love," Uncle Charlie said. "I don't make much money, but I survive. It's all good."
This master woodworker began his craft in the tenth grade when a kupuna carver from Molokai noticed his talent and took Uncle Charlie under his wing.
"When he taught me how to carve, he taught me my culture first because I needed to know where I came from," Uncle Charlie remembered. "Then, he showed me how to carve with old Hawaiian manao, from my feelings. Some people no more da touch for wood. For me, they call me a master carver, but to me the tree is the master because it tells me what to carve."
As a young student, Uncle Charlie also learned to never take a tree unless he put something back in its place. As a result, he is a very conservative carver.
"I save da wood," he said. "I don't chop down trees. People give me da wood or I find pieces discarded by the trashcan."
Most importantly, Uncle Charlie has learned life is about respect. Respecting himself, respecting his creative gifts and respecting others.
Perhaps in learning to never discard a piece of good wood, no matter how small, Uncle Charlie has learned never to discard people. And, the same way he sees the inside of the wood and visualizes the masterpiece it will become, Uncle Charlie sees the same endless potential and greater value inside all people.
Whichever, those who stop to talk story with Uncle Charlie are the richer for doing so. If you meet him along the way, don't forget to look in his eyes. His story is there, ready to be touched, handled, carved. A masterpiece in the flesh. Uncle Charlie.


 

Interesting Islanders

Meet Mary Lopresti

You can tell a lot about a person when they smile. This is true of 25-year-old Mary Lopresti, a music teacher at Hilo Intermediate School. Yes, when Mary smiles the world around her lights up and bubbles over with delight.
My first encounter with this young teacher occurred by happenstance. Mary swam into my life, or should it be said, swam into me, while I was working out in the water at Richardson's Beach.
She opened wide her smile, giggled and quickly apologized. It was contagious and I too broke out in laughter. Then she did the unthinkable by thrusting out her hand and introducing herself.
Ah, a fast friend was made. Right there in the middle of the bay. Never mind the age difference --young adult meeting middle age mom-- it was a done deal.
Immediately a conversation ensued and I found out Mary is a first-year teacher with a Bachelor's Degree in Music Education and Instrumental for K to 12 grades from East Tennessee State University, Mary is blessing the youth of Hilo with her gift of instrumentation and music.
Truthfully, this Ohio native found Hilo quite by accident, but is now planning to live here a lifetime. She originally came to the islands to spend a short time on Oahu living in her brother's apartment. However, after contacting Hawaii's Department of Education, Mary found several job opportunities on the Big Island.
In a leap of faith, Mary boarded a plane and landed in East Hawaii. Her first job interview at Hilo Intermediate School "just felt right" so Mary cancelled the other two and went back to Oahu to hastily pack and return to this place she now calls home.
It turned out to be the right call. Mary has enjoyed her first "real job on her own" and is learning a lot about teaching. Most endearing, she said, are the keiki she's encountered in the classroom.
"The students here are so musically inclined," she said. "Some of the kids are so musically talented that I just need to point them in the right direction. My job is to teach them to teach themselves. It builds their self-esteem. A lot of times my class gives the chance for children to excel that don't excel in math or science or reading."
Mary places much of the credit of her first year of success with Principal Elaine Christian.
"She's a strong, powerful woman," she said with a smile. "I highly respect her. She's a wonderful lady and she's taught me a lot. In fact, the entire administration is very supportive of their teachers. Of me. They have a strong sense of ohana here. It has felt really, really good to be a part of it."
When Mary's not in the classroom, she can be found wandering the countryside, swimming at local beaches, attending cultural events, taking hula lessons, practicing her Bassoon or Ukulele under the shade of a tree, playing the clarinet in the county band or eating Lomi Lomi Salmon at Ocean Deli Sushi, her "favorite" restaurant on the island.
"My life is running from one gig to another," Mary jokingly said.
Whatever the activity, Mary smiles while fully embracing all that is unique about the Big Island -- the rain, charm, the relaxed and hang loose feeling. She is fitting in, contributing to this unique culture, bringing joy to others and calling this place home.
"I love the small town,"she said. "I love that I can jump on my bike and go anywhere. I like to see the earth, the green, lush forest and the kupukupu. It's my desire to live in Hilo. I'm going to live here no matter what. It just feels right."
Mary also loves the collective of people calling East Hawaii home.
"Everyone here is so giving," she said. "You only have to meet someone once and you're just friends. It's just this beautiful community. My friends and I always joke that in Hilo you're only 1.3 degrees away from anyone you know. There's a huge sense of community. I feel safe."
Yes, it is possible to tell a lot about a person when they smile and when Mary Lopresti grins she's not only an open book, but a good read too.




 

This is my husband, the Kahu Brian Welsh from Haili Church in downtown Hilo. E Komo Mai to this wonderful Kalawina Hawaiian Church!