Hawaii (or you can go back)

November 1, 2022 6:34 am / wvfurandroot / 2 Comments

I was gifted with the experience of living in Hawaii for three years. I was 7 when we moved there and 10 when we left. I did not then realize what I had been given. I guess I thought everyone lived in paradise, but simultaneously I also knew I had lived somewhere special.

We left on January 10, 1970. It’s funny that I remember that date. Our last act in Hawaii was to go to the bank and withdraw all our money. While at the bank, my brother and I got on one another’s nerves. I poked him. He kicked me. And tore a hole in the lace of my very “gourmet” dress. I was incensed. I was quite the fan of the Galloping Gourmet, a television cooking show hosted by Graham Kerr who was more often than not drunk. Gourmet was the highest praise I could give anything.

Hawaii was gourmet.

We arrived in San Francisco a week later via ocean liner. The crossing had been rocky and my mother was inflicted with horrific sea sickness. My brother and I had been left to our own devices for the most part and had the run of the ship. I remember bits and pieces of that sailing, but the memories are not vivid like some of my memories of Hawaii. My mother describes disembarking in San Francisco as being like the Wizard of Oz in reverse. We went from technicolor to black and white.

I always vowed to go back, but not until I could do so with grace and style. Hawaii is horrifically expensive if one isn’t lucky enough to live in military housing with access to the commissary – the military’s grocery store.

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1701 Lawrence

February 22, 2022 6:21 amFebruary 27, 2022 8:57 am / wvfurandroot / Leave a comment

I watched this when it was broadcast on The Johnny Cash Show — about 1969. Good memories.

Three of the most important years of my life were spent on a Marine Corps Base in Hawaii. I was 7 when we moved there in 1967.

We lived on the main road into officer’s housing just across the street from the Officer’s Club golf course. Our yard was sometimes littered with stray golf balls if the foursome at the hole closest to us had too much to drink or were just novice golfers.

It was a small 3-bedroom ranch on a corner lot. Outside my bedroom window was a palm tree that would drop coconuts on the roof, sometimes startling me out of a sound sleep.

There was no need for insulation in Hawaii. If you hammered a nail into a wall and then removed it, daylight would stream through the hole. It was military housing and nail holes were pretty much forbidden. They were too much of a bother to fix to pass housing inspection when transfer orders were received. You didn’t just pack up and leave military housing. The house had to be squeaky clean from top to bottom. Many women had a side gig cleaning houses with a guarantee of passing inspection.

There was also no need for air conditioning most of the time. The windows were all thrown open to the island breezes. We had an extended carport with a covered patio – the patio was called a lanai. My mother, and my father too if he were home, would sit on the lanai and watch the children play on the communal playground just beyond our backyard.

I racked up some hours on the swing set and merry-go-round.

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