By Karen Welsh
Some people are a mainstay -- a fixture -- in our everyday lives. We may not know their names, but their faces are as familiar as bread and butter. They are always there and somehow that lends a sense of well-being and comfort to an otherwise hectic day.
That's Gabriel "Tony" Adviento, a Freeman Security guard faithfully working in the parking lot at the Bank of Hawaii building on Pauahi Street in Hilo.
Come rain or shine, 70-year-old Uncle Tony has watched over this piece of asphalt for 15 years. He can be found sitting under a large umbrella, spocking all vehicles coming in and going out of the property. Tony makes sure only qualified people are using the specially marked handicapped or employee spaces.
Other times, he is there to give someone the time of day or directions. During busy moments, usually around the first and fifteenth of the month, he's up and about, blowing his whistle while directing cars in and out of the narrow parking stalls.
Whatever his task, there's something warm, wonderful and secure about finding Uncle Tony sitting by his white 1951 four-door Mercury Sedan. Just the sight of him sitting next to this classy vehicle turns back the hands of time to a more gentler and caring era.
Yes, Uncle's presence makes me smile when turning off the hustle and bustle of the main road and into the safe and inviting haven he's created for those lucky enough to enter his domain.
I must confess, however, that up until this interview I'd never spoken to this notable man. Normally I swing around to the drive-thru window or park in the back of the lot and enter through a door that didn't require crossing his path. I simply took him for granted.
On this special day, however, it was time to get up close and personal. It only took a minute or so before I realized many people go out of their way to not only talk story with him, but to also bring him special gifts of food and beverages.
"Da peoples always bring me all kinds junks and grinds," Uncle Tony said in Pidgin English. "Sometimes I need my big car to haul it all home."
Some bank customers walk past and say Uncle Tony is an local icon and a statue needs to be erected there in his honor. Others simply feel he should run for mayor.
Uncle Tony jokingly claims they are serious.
"I know everybody and everybody knows me," he said. "If I don't come for one day they ask the other security guard, 'Where Uncle stay?'"
With all his celebrity, it's surprising to find out Uncle Tony is not a Hilo native. He was born and raised in Waimanalo on Oahu. He became a professional glazer or a "glass man" cutting glass and mirrors after graduating from Farrington High School in 1953.
Tony said working with glass in those days was extremely risky work. There were no cordless drills or modern conveniences to make it safer.
There were some close calls. In 1959 Uncle Tony fell down five stories off a high rise building while working in Honolulu. Against all odds he survived, but there is still a metal rod in his leg that serves as a reminder of the near disaster. Uncle Tony had another serious accident in 1971, when he received a deep gash that took time to heal.
In 1972, Tony ended up in Hilo Town to complete yet another glass job. During that time, however, Tony met and fell in love with Rowene, his wife for nearly three decades, and settled in Keaukaha.
In his spare time, this special uncle loves to ride one of his three motorcycles, do yard work, play his homemade bass or cook.
But mostly, this pure-blooded Filipino man with a Hawaiian heart spends his time lavishing warm aloha on everyone who crosses his path. And, people respond positively to his caring spirit, making him a local landmark in the hearts and minds of those living in East Hawaii. And you, dear Uncle Tony, can take that to the bank.
 

By Karen Welsh
Splish Splash. Splish Splash.
Only 7-year-old Chase Tanaka isn't taking a bath.
No, this little squirt is training for YWCA Novice Swim Team in their saltwater pool on Haili Street. That's where I met him, or watched in amazement during family swim hours while this little boy wonder tenaciously swam laps back and forth for 30 minutes straight, stopping barely long enough to find out his time and receive a few words of instruction from Leonard, his dad and weekend coach.
Call me a gawker, but I've witnessed a lot of 7-year-olds swim throughout my lifetime. For most that age lapping the pool one time is a feat. Twice is a downright miracle.
For Chase, a second grader at Kamehameha School in Kea'au, it is par for the course as he effortlessly makes the turn to swim another 25 yards down the line. That's because he's in training and Chase always swims as if he's a man on a mission, said his regular YWCA Swim Coach Adria Pickett.
"I just moved him up to the swim team," she said. "He's been swimming since he was four and I felt it was time. He's a really hard worker and he's really focused. He's always here to work hard. He always listens very attentively and follows directions."
His efforts have already paid off, because Chase, who swims the breaststroke, butterfly, freestyle and backstroke events, has already won first and second place ribbons at each meet.
"He takes home ribbons every time he swims," Adria said. "He's good. Really good."
And, the family is always there to cheer him on. This includes, of course, his dad, mom Suellen and Rachel, his little 4-year-old sister.
What's really amazing, Adria said, is Chase had to get over a tremendous fear of the deep end of the pool in order to compete.
Chase admitted there were other anxieties too.
"I felt a little nervous when my coach first asked me because I didn't know any of the kids," he said. "I didn't know if I would feel comfortable."
It wasn't long before Chase's strong desire to swim on the team outweighed his nerves. The only thing left to do was overcome his obstacles and move on, or down the lane with everyone chasing behind him.
In the process, Chase found out the deep end wasn't so scary and his teammates were pretty terrific too. This has given Chase particular insight for other keiki who might be anxious to try new things.
"If you're afraid, make sure you at least try it and get comfortable with it," he said. "I did. Now I feel excited and happy, especially when I won a couple of ribbons at my first meet. Now I want to continue swimming."
Although the butterfly is Chase's "funnest" stroke, it's not his strongest. That would be the freestyle and breast. That's why this water-logged youngster makes sure he spends equal time practicing the others.
With his will and determination to succeed, it comes as no surprise that Chase's vision of the future is already washing over him as he tirelessly puts one hand in front of the other and glides through the water.
"I like to compete," Chase admitted. "I practice because I want to get better. My dream is to one day compete on the swim team at the Olympics."
And Chase, all of East Hawaii will be cheering.
 

By Karen Welsh
Ohana means everything to 64-year-old Lapahoehoe native Lucille Eunice Kalikolehua Moniz Viveiros Chung. And, if a name means anything at all, Lucille's aloha for family is long and far reaching.
For Lucille, the concept of ohana doesn't stop at immediate family. Sure, her husband, four children, 12 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren would be in the inner ring if ohana were the center of a concentric circle.
But the outer bands would consist of extended family, her neighborhood, community, East Hawaii and finally to all those living on the Big Island.
Her love for all was proven 10 years ago when Lucille "temporarily" moved to Hilo when she became the Community Building Facilitator at the Queen Lili'uokulani Children's Center.
Before that time, she happily lived in Lapahoehoe, where she was born, grew up and graduated from high school before working 34 years as a Police Operations Clerk at the local station.
It was there, in that tiny community, Lucille learned aloha and ohana go hand in hand.
"The term 'it takes a village to raise a child' was how I felt," she said. "I belonged to everybody. Besides having good neighbors, I also had family close by. I feel very blessed to have grown up in Lapahoehoe. We are all one ohana. They love me and I love them."
Lucille remembers her mother, the postmaster in the town at the time, taking her to work when she was just a young child.
"I began my public service work there, chatting to everyone as a young keiki," she said. "I was not a shy child. I would talk to anyone, even the prisoners cleaning the grounds."
There was a natural rhythm to life in the little hamlet. Every Saturday morning the entire family, consisting of eight children, mom and dad, aunties, uncles and an assortment of cousins, would walk over to her grandfathers house down the road. Up from the gulch the kupuna would gather taro plants and boil them. Then everyone would help turn it into poi.
"It was a very simple life," Lucille said. "We were expected to show up every Saturday and make our poi for the week. It was a time of sitting with my relatives, sharing life. To this day we are very close. And, I can honestly say I have not tasted poi ever like that poi. It was the best."
After 54 years of living in this tight-knit community, the position at Queen Lili'uokulani was offered to Lucille --a perfect fit her passion in life, and she immediately knew it would fulfill her gifting as caretaker. As giver.
"I've always said, 'find out what you enjoy doing in life and then you'll never have to work a day," Lucille mused. "That's what I did. My job is not work. I love doing it."
With the decision made, Lucille moved to the much bigger town of Hilo a decade ago, and her kuleana became a natural one of "connecting all the dots." She does this by going out into various towns and villages on the Big Island, finding out the needs of certain children and providing them resources.
"It's the mission at the center to serve orphan and destitute Hawaiian children, because Queen Lili'uokulani left her estate to take care of these children," she said. "I connect with many communities. I support these children in their school and community. I help them connect with who they are. I try to make dreams come true."
Her heart and roots, however, remain in the little coastal village, where she also helps with programs that help reduce illegal drug use and promote family values.
"Lapahoehoe is a special community. I go there so often that people think I still live there," Lucille said. "I enjoy helping to create and do things there. My passion is seeing things happen positively."
One project Lucille helped with in the late 1990s was life-changing experience for the children at the community school. The students completed a service project at the park where many people lost their lives in the 1946 tidal wave.
Afterwards, the children listened to many survivors tell their story of the day. All the stories were recorded and the following year the gifted and talented class put together the award-winning book, "April Fools: The Lapahoehoe Tragedy of 1946, An Oral History." The book of firsthand accounts is currently in it's third printing.
Lucille's work is far from complete, however. There is always more to do and this gracious woman will not be stopped. She understands that people need to be met. Touched. Loved. Hanai-ed into her family. With each passing day the circle of Lucille Eunice Kalikolehua Moniz Viveiros Chung's ohana continues to grow, longer than her name. Much longer. Aloha Nui Loa Auntie for all you give!
 

Introducing Keoki and Manu Uyehara
By Karen Welsh
If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, then a bird on top the head is worth asking a few probing questions.
The strong urge to talk story came after spotting 63-year-old Keoki Uyehara recently walking around a Hilo craft fair with his beloved "Manu" a yellow parrot of distinguished feathers upon his shoulders.
It was a serendipitous morning. A "coo" so to speak, as I had once seen Keoki driving in his truck with Manu sitting on a perch attached to the front window mirror. I tried to chase him down, but to no avail.
Then, to find Keoki again, talking incessantly to his inseparable pet amidst a crowd of people, was a wonderful moment indeed.
Turns out Keoki has always been a birdman at heart. He grew up in Kaneohe on Oahu, leaving as a young man to live and work in the Fremont, California area more than 40 years ago. Each day at the plant where he worked trans-loading chemicals in Newark, Keoki would go out and feed the pidgeons during his lunch break.
Then, one day several years ago, Keoki noticed a beautiful yellow parrot flying with the pidgins.He became concerned that the little bird would be eaten by other birds so Keoki came up with a bird-brained idea and immediately set out to capture and rescue the hapless creature.
Unfortunately, the little scrapper of a bird wasn't so helpless and he wasn't about to give up living in the wild so easily.
"He fought me good," Keoki said of his feathered friend. "There was blood all over. He pecked and scratched but I didn't give up. I finally caught him after three hours and took him home."
It wasn't long before the newly named "Manu," meaning bird in the Hawaiian language, became tame. And spoiled.
Even the family cat had to adjust and the two became fast friends, often playing with one another.
The bond between man and bird became so strong that they had to be together all the time.
And with his own variation of Dr. Doolittle, Keoki began talking to this animal. A lot.
"He kinda knows a little of what I'm talking about," the human counterpart said. "He no dumb. He understands."
As if on cue, Manu let out a series of chirps as if to confirm his love for the master.
It's clear both man and bird enjoy the attention of those around them. Children point and giggle. Adults ask to pet or hold the beautiful sunshine squawker. They also take the time to respond and share their natural aloha spirit.
"Everywhere we go people always say 'how is the bird?,'" Keoki said. "They can see we are both happy and we like to make others happy."
When Keoki retired from his job and moved to the Big Island last December there was no question he would bring his fine feathered friend. The used the new easy quarantine offered in the islands, flew over--both on the airplane, of course--and settled in Paradise Park.
Both have adjusted well to life in the islands.
"After 40 years it's good to see all da local faces," Keoki said in his boyhood tongue. "I missed da aloha. I missed da people. The people ova hea are kinda mo' friendly."
Birds of a feather really do stick together. So to both of you I say--'Welcome Manu. Now your flying with a whole new set of pidgins...who speak our own da kine English dat is. Welcome back Uncle. Aloha nui loa throughout your days of living in East Hawaii.'
 

Introducing Jeanette Kaualani Howard
By Karen Welsh
Like the black sands through the hourglass, so are the days of 81-year-old Jeanette Kaualani Howard's life.
Or so I found out recently when my husband, Brian, and I decided to holoholo down Ka'u way on one of his rare days off.
Our adventures led us to the beautiful turtle-laden volcanic sands beach at Punalu'u. There's not much in the way of development on this remote stretch of land. What was built there for commercial use was shamefully abandoned long ago.
No, only a pavilion for cookouts or picnics, bathrooms, a monument and, at the far side of the beach, a narrow strip gift shop remains for the many tourists and locals that frequent this famous landmark.
That's where I found Auntie Jeanette, a Punalu'u native and owner of the diminutive 8 by 10 foot "Howard's Curios" gift shop.
There she sat, surrounded by a menagerie of candy, postcards and assorted gifts, knitting a false eyelash lei, nodding and smiling at customers as they passed by her stand.
This tiny world --this small haven -- has been her bread and butter -- her way of life since the 1950s. She's even survived the two tsunami's of 1960 and 1975 to keep her livelihood going.
"I lost my business both times," Jeanette said. "But, we came back."
Jeanette credits a strong foundation for her continued success.
"The only thing that was left was the cement foundation," she said. "And, as long as the foundation was here, we could rebuild and continue the business."
Having a sure foundation is something Jeanette has known her entire life. She was born in a home down by the beach in 1923. She lived there until her father took the job as a sugar cane plantation luna or "boss" position on Oahu in 1940.
During that time she entered Farrington High School, where she was a senior when Pearl Harbor was attacked in December 1941.
After the bombing, the military solicited help from the senior classes in the area and Jeanette began working as a clerk in the base's Naval Supply Depot, where she continued until 1945. During that time, she met her first husband and ended up moving to Virginia.
"I liked it there, but I didn't like the weather," Jeanette remembered. "It was always too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer, so I decided to come home."
Unfortunately, Jeanette's first marriage ended when she returned to her beloved island home --to Punalu'u. It was then Jeanette opened opened the giftshop to support her young family.
And, all was maika'i in her world.
"The beach is special here," she said. "I like living here. I like living near this beach because it's quiet and peaceful down here."
Somewhere along the way Jeanette met her second husband, Arnold Leroy Howard, a naval military mechanic. They were married in 1969 and finished raising the seven children in their blended family.
Jeanette's seen a lot of changes in the area throughout her many decades of life. She remembers a different environment than the one seen today.
"The beach is getting smaller and smaller," she mused. "The ocean is moving more and more inland. There used to be a brackish water pond when I was little. All the children used to learn to swim in that pond before we went into the ocean."
But, Jeanette said it's still beautiful and the couple is thriving in their small corner of the earth. Arnold loves to spend his days fishing and Jeanette continues to sell her wares while meeting and greeting people from all over the world.
"I think I will live here the rest of my life," Jeanette said. "No, I don't think, I know. I know I will live here the rest of my life."
 

Introducing Leigh Ann Baum
By Karen Welsh
Some children bring home stray cats or dogs. My 18-year-old daughter, Bethany, a freshman at the University of Hawaii Hilo Campus often brings home starving students.
Most come with the promise of a home-cooked meal or a warm batch of chocolate chip cookies. Others come because they need a mother figure to touch base with for a few moments during a busy week.
That's how I met 19-year-old Leigh Ann Baum, an effervescent gal with a personality as bubbly and overflowing as a freshly shaken can of soda.
A native of La Grande, Oregon, Leigh Ann entered UHH as a sophomore at UHH arrived during the late summer. She came to the Big Island with 120 students from around the world that are participants in the National Student Exchange Program.
"It's an awesome deal," she said. "I totally needed a change. I got to travel to someplace new. I pretty much came here to experience new things. I've met people from almost every state and gained a lot of new friends. It's pretty cool."
Leigh Ann found out about the program through her older sister who participated in it several years ago. It's been an incredible opportunity for a small town girl who's lived in the same house her entire life.
"I never swam in the ocean before I got here," she said. "The Oregon coast only has cliffs and hazards. The water's also freezing so it's impossible to swim. To get into the warm water here was amazing."
Since her arrival, Leigh Ann has traveled to Waipio Valley, Boiling Pots and Hapuna. And, she can hardly wait for the next adventure.
Her biggest delight, however, is the diversity of cultures and people found at UHH and throughout East Hawaii. It's really given her a taste of the true aloha spirit everyone talks about after visiting the islands, she said.
"The people are like so amazing here," Leigh Ann said. When I walk into places I feel the love. I can really feel it, like it just totally washes over me. That's really cool. It's definitely not like that on the mainland."
The largest obstacle for Leigh Ann is the intermittent feelings of homesickness. It's something affecting most young people leaving their familiar surrounding for the first time.
If there was a medal for bravery, Leigh Ann would certainly receive it for laying aside all to come to a new culture, new climate, new town, a new life. Through it all, she's learning some important life lessons and maturing into a beautiful adult.
"Being away from family is difficult at times," Leigh Ann admitted. "It's been a big change, but it's really good too. I've had to learn to be content, looking at things and being content where I am and enjoying it. That's like a big thing."
And yes, true to her words, Leigh Ann has made the transition with joy, complete and utter joy, so transparent she can often be seen smiling widely and fluttering around like a butterfly on UHH's front lawn.
And, I have to admit, Leigh Ann is completely contagious. How can a person help but to take her in and love her as one of their own.
Getting to know this incredible young lady has made me stop and wonder how many more awesome and amazing students come from all parts of the world to attend UHH. Surely they are in need of a family connection, someone to share their aloha and perhaps a homemade meal throughout the semester.
Leigh Ann's blessed. She has the Welsh clan to lean upon. To her I say, 'The light's always on for you, our newly hanai-ed daughter. The cookies are in the oven. Your Big Island ohana awaits.'
And kamaainas, what about the rest of you?