Posted on: Sunday, December 26, 2004
Unseen moments from 2004
Advertiser Staff
With the new year just around the corner, Island Life and TGIF staff writers are taking this opportunity to empty out their notebooks one last time.
These vignettes give you a glimpse into the way our features writers experienced the year. Our reporters braved "American Idol" and Merrie Monarch crowds, were touched by instances of everyday bravery, integrity and stories of true love, and gleaned some crazy wisdom out of encounters with rock stars and celebrities.
We couldn't pass up sharing these experiences with you. Enjoy.
By Zenaida Serrano Hysteria.
Advertiser library photo • May 14, 2004 Braving wind and heavy rain, thousands of screaming fans lined Kalakaua Avenue for a glimpse of the Maryknoll School superstar. When Trias finally arrived at Kuhio Beach that evening, "Jas-mania" broke loose as hundreds charged her stretch Ford Excursion limousine.
And I, unfortunately, was in the middle of the madness.
A photographer, also sent to cover the event, put it best as he shouted over the rushing fans: "It's like Beatle (bleepin') mania, Zee! Beatle (bleepin') mania!"
I was nearly trampled by the frenzied mob, until a stranger pulled me up onto a rock wall and safely away from the maniacal masses.
I should have seen it coming, after what happened at the airport the day before. Same mob scene but on a slightly smaller scale — just a couple of hundred people, maybe?
We media folk forced our way past a wall of well-wishers to interview Trias. As I went in, I was blasted on the head by a TV cameraman — and nearly knocked out.
Was I a little shaken from the mob scenes?
Yes.
Surprised?
Not one bit.
Trias' appeal, after all, was international. I received dozens of e-mails daily from Trias lovers nationwide: Mississippi, Maryland and Oregon, to name a few. Many messages even came from fans from the Philippines, eager to express their pride for the Little Filipina Who Could.
"It is high time that a local Asian girl ... be proclaimed the next American Idol to boost the morale and confidence of talented (Asian) aspirants yet to be discovered," e-mailed Rhoewena Loreto, all the way from Davao City. "More power to you!"
As a sister Filipina, I couldn't help but feel proud of the Mililani teen's accomplishments, too.
After all, I was there.
I even had the bumps and bruises to prove it.
Reach Zenaida Serrano at zserrano@honoluluadvertiser.com or 535-8174.
By Michael Tsai I don't know how many times I've ever been truly terrified.
Advertiser library photo • June 29, 2004 I recall enough of the feeling — that short-circuiting of nerves, that slipping grip on composure — to know that I have little tolerance for it, that I would never knowingly put myself in a position to feel it.
And that's why — sorry all you Hollywood actors, directors and producers — Brandon Young is the single coolest person I've met all year.
In addition to being a highly intelligent, articulate and just plain nice guy, the Windward Community College student is legally blind.
What little sight Brandon has will eventually fade as a result of retinitis pigmentosa. He knows this, and that's why he put himself out on a limb — literally and figuratively — at this year's Camp Ho'opono, designed to help young adults who are blind develop skills necessary to be self-sufficient.
For four days, I watched Brandon swallow hard as he wobbled blindfolded on logs and stumps. I watched him go white trying to scale a climbing wall. I watched him literally shaking with fear as he made his way up a rickety ladder toward a rope-course in the treetops.
He fell off the stumps. He didn't make it up the wall. He didn't even make it up the ladder.
But, man, that guy has guts.
How many times have you ever been truly terrified? Once? Twice? Two, three times a day during that camp, Brandon reached that point, he stared down unbelievable darkness and uncertainty, and he kept going.
Watching him do that made my whole year.
Reach Michael Tsai at 535-2461 or mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.
By Tanya Bricking Leach They each were married to other people for 60 years.
Photo courtesy of the Cooper family The Advertiser caught up with them in September, when we profiled them in our weekly "Love Stories" feature.
It was a story about how Cooper, 87, who had retired to Hawai'i Kai, remembered that 83-year-old Erma had married someone with the last name of Farlin years ago and moved to Michigan.
He kept thinking of her, fondly remembering his first love. So he decided to see what had become of her.
With the help of a librarian, Cooper tracked her down by writing to every Farlin in the Michigan directory.
Farlin's daughter received one of the letters, and that was all it took before Erma phoned the man she used to call "Coop."
Soon, she and Coop were talking every day, making plans to get reacquainted a little more the next day. The phone calls turned to visits. The visits turned to a marriage proposal.
And that's where the newspaper story left off.
What's the rest of the story?
One with a delightful ending.
We're happy to report that they tied the knot Oct. 24 at Sandy Beach.
"It's a wonderful thing that it all could happen," said the groom. "It seems to be fated to happen."
Reach Tanya Bricking Leach at 525-8026 or tbricking@honoluluadvertiser.com.
By Wanda Adams My birthday present from my friend Bonnie was a photo album documenting my work at the Merrie Monarch hula competition in Hilo last April.
"Here is Wanda with a headful of flowers and a new mu'umu'u, looking fresh and relaxed.
"Here is Wanda elbowing into a crowd of reporters, desperate to extract a quote from a teary-eyed kumu hula.
"Here is Wanda, flowers askew, lipstick gone, sitting on the floor of the Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium, composing a story on a laptop balanced unsteadily on her knees.
"Here is Wanda's 'okole; the rest of her is under the stage, plugging into a phone line to transmit competition results.
"Here is Wanda in a puka T-shirt in a hotel room littered with notebooks and dead lei, eating cheese and crackers at 1 in the morning, a glazed look in her eyes — pau ka hana at last."
The Merrie Monarch is a complex and daunting assignment that requires the stamina of a mountain climber, the wisdom of a kupuna, sensitivity to the subtlest nuance of word and look and gesture (both on stage and off) and the ability to identify at a glance everyone of importance in the hula world. The choreography on the stage is matched by the pas de deux carried out by photographer and reporter, who must operate in often uneasy tandem.
But I love it, love it, love it.
I love watching the stadium fill up with people and flowers. I love getting a kiss from Auntie Irene Midel, who proudly occupies a front-row seat each year with half Hilo's orchids in her hair. I love using my fractured hula Hawaiian to painfully parse out the meaning of the songs, watching the story unfold by means of hand, feet and eyes. I love fashion-policing the crowd and the costumes, second-guessing the judges and evesdropping while others do the same.
I love it so much that this year I'm taking vacation to go early and watch rehearsals. Never enough hula.
Reach Wanda Adams at 535-2412 or wadams@honoluluadvertiser.com.
By Wayne Harada You'd think that after 40 years of chronicling show-biz comings and goings, this ol' buzzard has seen and done it all.
Wrong.
Surprises abound when you least expect it.
Happened the other day, when I called Frankie Avalon — in town for a holiday run of "Grease" at Blaisdell Concert Hall — to do an interview. "Well, how you been? It's been a long time," he said. "I wondered if it were you."
I'd written about him back in 1958, when we both were young(er), when he made his first visit to Hawai'i, when he was one of the original American Idols from Philadelphia. He's 65 now (and I'm 63), and he talked as if we were long-time buddies, reflecting on other working stints here over the years, even asking if my hair was graying or white. "You gonna come see the show?"
Happened in July, too, after my mother died. Word of her passing had filtered to several celebrities I've interviewed, observed and reviewed over the years. "Sorry to hear about your loss," said the familiar voice — David Copperfield's. No magic then, just warm and comforting words.
That cutchi-cutchi cutie, Charo, also telephoned. "Your mama was a special and wonderful person," she said. No stage act, just earnest sentiment.
Frequently, it's folks that you don't really know who pass you an eye-opening thought or a response. Stuff you can't put in a column.
Happened one afternoon, when I was covering "American Idol" at a live feed at Eastside Grill. A former Farrington grad remembered me, reminding me readers are all too often invisible in the daily grind of putting out print or online copy; they know you because they follow you, and, unfortunately, it's not reciprocal.
Happened another day, too, earlier this year, when deejay Hawaiian Ryan brought his Grandma to the office. Grandma tells it like it is: "You used to be young! Now, You old!" she bellowed. And groused about the early mugshot accompanying my columns in the paper.
That they know you from four decades back says something, too, about newspapering. Dialogue with everyday readers drives home the point — they care, they follow you, they speak the truth. And you can't deny you've aged.
Reach Wayne Harada at 525-8067 or wharada@honoluluadvertiser.com.
By Mary Kaye Ritz The writer had gone to a lot of trouble to send that e-mail anonymously — using a pen name and an identity filter. I did learn a little about the writer: He (or she) was a scholarship student, that sort of thing.
The writer asked me not to print the letter, and I won't. But I can't stop thinking about the story.
The student was responding to an article I'd written about academic integrity — specifically, about homework ethics. Classmates at UH routinely asked for his homework, for notes to copy, for information to help cheat on tests, the writer said; one even threatened bodily harm if he didn't help.
In high school, the writer said, if you didn't let people cheat off you, you'd be a social outcast.
I ached for the guy. It's not easy standing up for what you believe in the face of overwhelming pressure.
The problem isn't limited to UH or public schools, but it's nice to know some teachers are taking it seriously. After my story came out, reporting that a sixth-grader admitted someone had asked for his homework to copy, Iolani teachers worked ethics into their lesson plans that week.
My own 16-year-old son reports that some Punahou students ask to see others' homework, but "it's OK to say 'no.' " He says that's because there's so much competition for grades. (I suppose I'm relieved.)
My friend, Rachel, a high school teacher, says she discovered some students had conspired to cheat on an AP test last year. There wasn't enough evidence to prosecute the culprits and they roundly denied it. Still, she pulled one boy aside and told him that she was disappointed in him.
Rachel argues that we have to get involved. So I wrote back Anonymous and told the writer to stay the course.
Integrity engenders a reaction from others too: respect.
Reach Mary Kaye Ritz at525-8035 or mritz@honoluluadvertiser.com.
By Derek Paiva Liz Phair offered me her discarded album project ideas, should I ever someday need 'em. Roger Daltrey got downright misty as he recalled '60s memories of Honolulu groupies and attempts at surfing with Keith Moon. All future chats with Blink-182's Mark Hoppus will go down pre-lunch after hearing him take great pains to describe bandmate Travis Barker's foot injury in graphic anatomical detail.
Still, some of my favorite chats this year were with folks from our own back yard.
Ever-humble Jack Johnson offered pleasant chat, a morning of checking out waves behind his parent's North Shore home, and fresh-baked cookies from his wife, Kim.
Saxophonist Gabe Baltazar shared raucous club stories from World War II-era Honolulu that made the city's current night scene seem tame by comparison.
First Thursdays slam poets Kealoha, Selah Geissler and Hawaiian Ryan graciously shared the everyday inspirations and method of their often brilliant on-stage madness.
I even learned two new things over a couple of months of following the antics of Go Jimmy Go bandmembers before their extended Mainland tour: Do let saxophonist Eric White and bassist Cameron Wright talk you into hanging out at La Mariana Sailing Club. Do not, however, let Cam talk you into house tequila that leaves you hypnotized by the rhythmic swing of the club's fugu lamps.
You're a generous man, Cam.
And once again, many thanks to Annie Keen, Rob Hoban and Allie Kade from, respectively, Mililani, Louisville and Detroit who shared tales of friendship and a mutual love of Dashboard Confessional with me. Congrats on that "sort-of" stage shoutout from Chris Carrabba, too — he's right, you guys are "famous" in your own right now.
As Tori Amos once smartly summed it up, "Pretty good year."
Reach Derek Paiva at 525-8005 or dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com.
Glad to report: Writer, photographer survive 'Jas-mania'
Advertiser Staff Writer
That's the best way to describe American Idol finalist Jasmine Trias' Waikiki appearance in May, during the height of the mad-popular Idol competition.
Maryknoll's senior class stood front-center to honor their classmate, "American Idol" finalist Jasmine Trias, during a school assembly.
Unyielding courage
Advertiser Staff Writer
Perhaps once when I found myself alone and lost in a foreign jungle at nightfall. Before that, maybe the time I momentarily lost my brakes going down a hill in Kaimuki. Before that ... I don't remember.
Brandon Young, 20, put himself out on a limb — literally and figuratively — at a camp for the blind.
True love survives test of time
Advertiser Staff Writer
But after Harry Cooper and Erma Farlin lost their spouses, they found each other again, decades after they had been Canadian high school sweethearts in Kingsville, Ontario.
Erma Farlin and Harry Cooper tied the knot Oct. 24 at Sandy Beach. The story of how they met again after decades apart is one of true love.
So much fun, I'd go anyway
Advertiser Staff Writer
If you stick around long enough ...
Advertiser Staff Writer
Anonymous, but not unheard
Advertiser Staff Writer
No place like home
Advertiser Staff Writer
