The September 11th attack
Terror shockwaves still shake lives in Hawai'i
By Timothy Hurley
Advertiser Staff Writer
For Jon Santiago, the events of Sept. 11 sent a shockwave through his life that is still reverberating.
Cyndi Ayonon Mark Marcantonio Caroline Komar
Two weeks after the terrorist attacks, he was laid off from his part-time jobs at two small Waikiki hotels, and now he's surviving on unemployment.
Benevolence
The first thing I told (my son) is don't go near any government buildings, because you may be mistakenly labeled because you have olive skin."
Concern
It affects me when I have to go home at 9 or 10 at night. I try to be positive for my son. He shouldn't have to worry about these things.''
Optimism
At first I thought ... 'What am I doing?' I couldn't sleep, and I was watching the news all the time. It was heartbreaking."
He and his fiancee, Chris, were hoping to marry next year, but those plans now are on hold.
The two are now considering an offer from Santiago's parents to move in with them for the time being.
"I'm out of a job, but at least I have family to lean on," he said.
Santiago's troubles are a mere hint of the turbulence that has shaken many in the Islands since Sept 11. All over Hawai'i, people are grappling with new challenges and anxieties.
Beyond the upsurge in patriotism, and the jitters that have produced scores of anthrax scares, the tragedy is still playing out on a deeper level. Some people are retreating from the post-Sept. 11 furor by avoiding the news, while others are finding a spiritual renewal and a fresh appreciation for what they have.
Some families are drawing together, finding strength and support in a time of crisis, while stress and new obstacles are threatening to pull others apart.
Fortifying a family
For Mark Marcantonio of Makawao, Maui, the aftermath of Sept. 11 has exacted a toll on his family life, and especially his relationship with his 13-year-old son.
"It's hard when I can't see him,'' he said.
It's all linked to the demands of trying to salvage his business, Maui Menehune Golf, a miniature golf course in Kahului that has seen a dramatic drop in customers since the terrorist attacks.
It was a dream come true 16 months ago when Marcantonio bought the former Hilton Hawaiian Village miniature golf course and shipped it to Vavau Street in Kahului. Admittedly, he opened without much cash to fall back on, but at least he was his own boss.
Before the terrorist attacks, he was averaging 300 to 400 customers a week. "Now we're lucky if we hit 100. Yesterday there were four. Today, two so far,'' he said.
Turned down for new financing last week, Marcantonio is seriously looking at selling the business. He's also searching for a job to make ends meet. In the meantime, he's cut expenses and is working 16 hours a day, seven days a week.
The time spent trying to save the business is time lost from his wife, Gwen, and son, Matthew.
"It affects me when I have to go home at 9 or 10 at night,'' he said. "I try to be positive for my son. He shouldn't have to worry about these things.''
Financial pressures have placed a strain on his marriage, he admitted, but the couple have survived other hard times, including a period when she helped nurse him back to health after he had broken both his legs.
"It just makes me realize how much I love her,'' he said.
He also loves his son, and it breaks his heart that he can't devote as much time or resources to the boy as he used to. Just last week, for example, Marcantonio told the boy he couldn't afford to buy him the birthday gift he had asked for — a $300 video game system — so he promised to put down half now and the other half by Christmas.
"One thing that hurts me is that he's definitely more open with my wife. He'll tell her things he won't tell me. It doesn't help that I'm not around,'' he said.
Though Marcantonio often sees his son only minutes a day, he still tries to make a connection. When he comes home from work late at night, he'll quietly enter Matthew's room and whisper, "I love you." If he leaves for work before his son is awake, he calls home and talks to him.
"I do the best I can.''
A long-awaited apology
Timothy Hurley • The Honolulu Advertiser
A misunderstanding at a family wedding in June had isolated Caroline Komar, 24, of Kane'ohe, from much of her extended family on the Mainland. It was one of those stupid little things that escalate into a full-fledged feud, with neither side willing to give an inch.
Mark Marcantonio is putting in long hours to keep his business, a miniature golf course on Maui, alive. His main regret is that the extra hours at work cost him time with his wife and 13-year-old son.
Komar, a bridesmaid at a cousin's wedding in Milwaukee, fell ill during the reception and left early, abandoning the bridal party.
"They didn't understand and they got really mad at me," she said. "They even called me names."
Komar said she tried to explain and apologize, even though she feels there was nothing to be sorry about. But the hurt, imagined or not, was too deep. Several months passed without any contact between Komar and her relatives.
The cold silence was broken four days after Sept. 11, when one of her aunts in Wisconsin called.
"She just wanted to know how I was doing," Komar said. "I had wanted them to call; I was hoping they would call. I don't have any siblings, and I wanted to stay in contact with them."
As the two women discussed the events of Sept. 11, the incident at the wedding did not enter the conversation. Then, Komar broke down. "I'm sorry," she sobbed.
Now that the family fence has been mended, Komar is looking forward to returning next month to the Chicago area, where her parents live, and reuniting with other family members before looking for a job.
She said the terrorist attacks helped bring her career choice into focus. Komar, a graduate student in diplomacy and military studies at Hawai'i Pacific University, hopes to work at the Pentagon, one of the Sept. 11 targets.
"At first I thought, 'Oh, my God, what am I doing?' '' she said. "I couldn't sleep, and I was watching the news all the time. It was heartbreaking."
Now, Komar said she is eager to do what she can to improve the country's security.
A son far from home
The uncertainty of the times reaffirmed the bond between Cyndi Ayonon and her son, Colby, 18, a freshman at Linfield College in McMinnville, Ore.
Colby called home on Sept. 11 to check on his mom. "I was kind of impressed that he called me instead of me calling him. We've been in constant contact since then — every other day or daily,'' Ayonon said.
The Wailua Homesteads resident, a legislative analyst with the Kaua'i County Clerk's Office, was concerned that her local-looking son might be mistaken for a foreigner.
"The first thing I told him is don't go near any government buildings, because you may be mistakenly labeled because you have olive skin," she said. "I had bought him some aloha-print seat covers. I told him to put them on, and to wear Hawaiian shirts.
"We really miss him, especially since Sept. 11. Why did it have to happen his first year away from home?"
Reached in Oregon, Colby Ayonon said a main change in his behavior since the attacks is avoiding places where there are large groups of people.
"I'm being really cautious about things,'' he said. "There're quite a few big malls up here that I've stayed away from. I stay away from big scenes and stuff.''
Acts of kindness
Hawai'i's geographical isolation from the events on the Mainland and abroad is a comfort to many, and Neighbor Islanders may be more at ease knowing they are separated from the major military installations and population center of O'ahu.
Kathy Gaiser-Lichtenberg of Princeville, Kaua'i, said that on returning from the Mainland recently, "I wanted to kiss the ground. I felt, 'I'm safe again.'"
Weary of news about the Sept. 11 fallout, Gaiser-Lichtenberg has sought out her own isolation at home.
"I used to turn on the television in the morning. Lately, I've been starting my day with some nice music, candles and incense. There is certainly a sense that it's counterproductive of me to get pulled into that emotional panic. I decided that enough is enough. I'm not going to turn the television on and introduce that crazy-making into my life. There's nothing I can do about anthrax."
Gaiser-Lichtenberg, 47 and divorced, said she has felt a call to her spiritual nature as a result of the events.
"I feel that to be ultrapatriotic is more aligned to this military thing that I don't feel comfortable with. I feel the only hope the species has is to lift consciousness," she said.
Gaiser-Lichtenberg has observed a more helpful and friendly attitude around her. She was surprised by how a stranger helped her get through a crowd on a shuttle bus at an airport. The man picked up her heavy bag and carried it for her through the crunch.
"That's never happened to me, someone just stepping forward and helping. I saw other people doing similar things. People seem more attentive," she said.
"People here are much kinder because of the aloha,'' added Ada Lamme, owner of Tex Drive Inn in Honoka'a on the Big Island. "Even the tourists are showing more patience these days."
Trying to stay normal
Even though Monica Jacobs doesn't believe Hawai'i is a prime terrorist target, in the back of her mind she is concerned about her husband, who serves in the Navy at Pearl Harbor.
"Jim and I have been talking about that a lot," she said. " A part of me believes we're far away from potential danger, but the other part is saying 'It's happened here before.'
"I know the military is thinking the same way, so I feel confident we'll spot something here before it happens.".
Jacobs, a homemaker, said she's just trying to go about her business in a normal way.
"I don't think about it a lot, really,'' she said. "I don't know if it's a defense mechanism or it's just moving on with my life. My focus has been living and accomplishing the things I need to do daily instead of being scared.''
Belief in a higher power
Dianne Washington-Kay was hit hard by the events of Sept. 11, and while she remains fearful about what the future holds, she's also gained a sense of optimism.
"Definitely, I plan to live my life to the fullest, enjoy it to the maximum and give as generously as I can to my fellow human beings. I plan to be a better person, Christian and humanitarian. This has made me realize how blessed I am," she said.
It was exactly one week after that horrible day that she lost her job as a digital fusion and tourist photographer at Tihati Productions in Waikiki.
"It happened that fast. Tourism dropped off that quickly. I just never thought anything like that could happen,'' she said.
Washington-Kay, whose sole source of income now is her Rasta Buck's Cafe in Hale'iwa, believes that the turmoil pervading the country won't be over anytime soon and that life in America has changed forever.
"My biggest fear is for my 15-year-old son, that he may never experience the freedoms I've known," she said.
"I think that as parents we are challenged like we've not been challenged in years, or even decades. I'm afraid that I cannot prepare my son for the disasters that might come, emotionally, spiritually and physically.
"What will happen is unknown to all of us. But the children have to live in the future. I wish that they would have that innocence of the future that we had. I don't know that we as Americans can do this now."
Washington-Kay remembers losing sleep after the attacks but eventually emerged with a new understanding.
"My peace came with the realization that we are not really in control on any minute of our lives. Sometimes it's better to let it go," she said.
"Yes, I lost my job. But I have my own business in Hale'iwa. Finances have been difficult anyway. But I also realize how lucky I am to be alive and that money is not the highest priority."
She, like so many others, has turned to her faith and prayer for sustenance.
"This has made me put my hopes and beliefs in a higher power. It has reinforced my traditions and beliefs that in times of peril, God is there for you to lean on. It has made me a much stronger Christian.''
Staff writers Jan TenBruggencate, Will Hoover, Hugh Clark, Eloise Aguiar, Scott Ishikawa, Suzanne Roig and Christie Wilson contributed to this report.
