Don Ho, who died yesterday of heart failure at age 76, was the pop-culture face of Hawai'i. Yet those who knew him best say he wouldn't understand what all the fuss was about.

He became a national star in the 1960s, riding the crest of Hawai'i's tourism boom and a catchy hapa-haole tune about cheap champagne. "Tiny" ... something.

Back then, he was the dark-eyed, laid-back, slightly boozy, vaguely hedonistic — and unmistakably sexy — embodiment of the nation's newest state.

He became a Waikiki headliner, appeared on national television, had a network series, toured the world.

And he endured. Forty years in Waikiki and he was still packing them in.

But he never took himself seriously.

"He didn't come on with airs," said longtime entertainment columnist Eddie Sherman. "No matter what he achieved, he was always just a local boy. He would be happiest sitting in a joint someplace eating stew with his friends."

Said Big Island rancher Larry Mehau, who grew up with Ho and was a lifelong friend: "I don't think he ever realized how important he was to Hawai'i ... how big he was. I mean, he knew he had talent. But the other stuff ... he didn't care about all the other stuff.

"With Don, it's 'Ain't no big thing.' But he was big-time."

Haumea Hebenstreit Ho, the entertainer's longtime associate and wife since September, said she found him collapsed in the bathroom of their Waikiki home yesterday.

She said she called an ambulance, then tried to resuscitate Ho for 10 minutes. He was taken to The Queen's Medical Center, where he died.

"He is the love of my life," said Haumea Ho, who also was the producer of Ho's Waikiki show.

It was the only public statement made by Haumea Ho. The family has asked for privacy.

Friends and family had flocked to the hospital as news of Ho's death spread. Ho's daughter, Hoku, also an entertainer, was on a flight to Hawai'i from California last night.

"(Ho) was my father, my friend, my buddy," said Cha Thompson, a longtime entertainer in Waikiki. Thompson was the lone non-family member at Ho's bedside at the hospital, and was asked by Haumea Ho to help plan a farewell. Details on that event will be released soon.

For more than a year, Ho had been grappling with a life-threatening heart condition, called cardiomyopathy, which slowed him down and led him to reduce his workload to three shows a week.

As a last resort, he underwent VesCell Adult Stem Cell therapy in Bangkok, Thailand, in November 2005, because his weakening heart could not be repaired with conventional treatment or surgery. The experimental procedure, not yet approved by the Food and Drug Administration in this country, involved isolating stem cells from his blood, cultivating them in a lab, then injecting them directly into his heart muscle. The process was intended to regenerate his heart tissue.

Ho told The Advertiser last year that he hoped to have another stem cell procedure to build more heart muscle, but he did not follow through with another operation. He periodically had trouble breathing and was able to return to performing only sporadically after the surgery.

"I was at his show Thursday night, which turned out to be his last," promoter Tom Moffatt said. "He did a remarkable show."

Bangkok-based writer Jerry Hopkins, who is working on a biography of Ho, was with Moffatt and met with the entertainer backstage.

"I guess we all worried about Don but figured he was going on forever," Hopkins said. "He seemed to be able to beat back those unbeatable enemies called age, time and infirmities.

"The only thing that surprises me about Don and the book is how he hadn't done one because his story has never been told. It may be a cliche, but Hawai'i will never be the same."

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Said entertainer Danny Kaleikini: "Don brought Hawai'i to the world."

For many tourists, Ho had become a vacation constant.

"I've met people who have come to Hawai'i 40 times and they've seen him every time," said comedian Andy Bumatai, who performed in Ho's last show.

In some ways, Ho's success defied logic. A self-taught musician who paid his dues at Honey's, a Kane'ohe bar owned by his parents, "he would be the first to admit he might not be the most talented one in the room," Bumatai said.

And yet ...

"I'd take people to Duke's to see him and after a couple of minutes, they'd say, 'What's with this guy? He can barely sing. He mumbles. Let's get the hell out of here,' " said Sherman, the former columnist.

"I'd say, 'Just wait a while,' and two hours later they're standing there telling me this is the best show they've ever seen.

"That was the mystery. He had a unique gift. He was able to reach people in a way few others could do.

"I've seen him 10,000 times. He moves like molasses. He sits on a stool and makes believe he's drunk — not in the early days, though. But he's like a spider weaving his web around the audience. They're drawn in — and then he's got them."

Fellow entertainers spoke of Ho's willingness to share the stage and ability to bond with his audiences.

Bumatai said Ho once advised him never to refuse to have a photograph taken with a fan.

"One thing he said to me, 'You take pictures with anybody,' " Bumatai said. "Because he said, 'Those pictures will do more good for you than an advertising agency. They sit on mantles. You'll be there with the graduation photos of the kids.' "

It was advice Ho shared willingly and often with fledgling entertainers.

Singer Audy Kimura was a recording engineer working on the double-album "Don Ho's Hawaiian 30 Favorites" in 1976 when he met the entertainer.

"Don treated me like a son," Kimura said. "He told me a couple of times over the years, 'You make one person feel like a million, and you make a million people feel like a person.' "

Mehau, the Big Island rancher, said Ho's warmth and love for the people who came to his shows was so genuine that it was impossible for them to forget him.

"The old ladies would come up, and he would kiss all of them and give them a hug, and they would all go home and tell their friends, and it just spread," Mehau said.

One moment stands out in Mehau's memories. It was in the racially charged '60s. For the first time, an African-American woman attended the show and stood in line for a kiss from Ho.

"He was just smooching them all as they came up, but I think everybody was kind of wondering what was going to happen — especially the people she came with," Mehau said. "But when she got there, he just looked at her, smiled and said, 'Chocolate cake — my favorite,' and gave her a big wet one. She was so happy.

"That was just so Don, to take a moment like that and make everybody feel good about it."