For so many, Don Ho was Hawai'i. His rich-toned crooning conjured up visions of old Hawai'i: swaying palm trees, stunning sunsets, mai tais with colorful umbrellas.

Few names are as recognizable here in the Islands — and around the world, for that matter. From Tokyo, Japan, to Topeka, Kan., Ho's rendition of "Tiny Bubbles" left indelible images of the Islands with so many of his fans.

To be sure, Ho had a following — particularly with the ladies. His Waikiki showrooms over the past 40 years would be frequently crowded with women clinging to his every note. And he delivered. His shows were a blend of songs, jokes and insights on life in Hawai'i.

He performed for throngs of thousands since 1964 at a host of venues, from Duke Kahanamoku's to his signature Don Ho's Waikiki to the Beachcomber's Hoku Hale Showroom, where he's appeared since 1994.

And he packed 'em in.

Ho's sold-out shows opened the door to performances across the country, including Las Vegas, New York and Chicago. He also landed guest appearances on Johnny Carson, Art Linkletter, and yes, "The Brady Bunch."

Of course, there was another side to the famous performer that was less public. At 76, he was a proud father and grandfather. He flew C097 jets in the Air Force. He offered a spotlight to numerous local young artists whom he invited to share his stage.

And Ho had a big heart. He often helped other entertainers who were down on their luck by offering them a paying gig opening for his show. "Don was the essence of aloha. He lived aloha," said Jimmy Borges, one of Ho's longtime friends.

The handsome kid from Kaka'ako — who graduated from Kamehameha Schools, attended college in Massachusetts and earned a degree from the University of Hawai'i in 1954 — grew to become the iconic image of Hawai'i. And he left that spirit of aloha with the thousands of visitors who journeyed far and wide to see the legendary Waikiki performer.

In his later years, he battled a heart ailment. So many watched and prayed as Ho courageously tried an experimental stem-cell treatment in Bangkok in 2005. He was back on stage, in his element, within months.

Somehow, we always knew Ho would return to Waikiki, sitting behind the organ keyboard, glass in hand, doing his thing.

Now, with heavy hearts and with deep gratitude for someone who brought the essence of Hawai'i to millions through his songs and spirit, we join the world bidding a final farewell to Don Ho — me ke aloha pumehana.