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The Honolulu Advertiser
Posted on: Sunday, August 26, 2007

History of hoss elections

By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

Hawaii news photo - The Honolulu Advertiser

Henriette and Larry Valdez were voted Best Looking in the 1959 Kailua High School "horse elections," shown in their 1959 yearbook, above right. They married in 1960 and live in Kailua.

DEBORAH BOOKER | The Honolulu Advertiser

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Hawaii news photo - The Honolulu Advertiser
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Leave it to Larry and Henriette Valdez to solve the mystery of "Hoss Elections." That's how they are. Most Likely to Figure Stuff Out.

When they read the column here pondering the origin of the term "Hoss Elections," a Hawai'i phrase used to describe those senior class hall-of-fame awards in high school, the Valdez's were the only ones to come up with hard evidence of the etymology.

Larry Valdez and Henriette Lopes were voted Best Looking of their senior class in Kailua High 1959. They joke about it now. Larry says the election was "juice" because Henriette was on the Senior Day planning committee. But he says he should have won Most Luckiest since he's been married to his high school sweetheart now for 47 years.

In their "He'e Nalu" yearbook, their photo is under the banner "HORSE ELECTIONS." A-ha!

As Larry explains it, "Prior to 1960, it was a 'Horse' Election ... a blue ribbon for First Place, Red for Second Place, Yellow for Third Place. We only had Blue Ribbon categories for Most Likely to Succeed, Best Looking, Best Dressed, Best School Spirit, Most Athletic, Most Talented and Most Comical."

Between the two of them, they could have swept the categories. It's been a superlative 47 years.

Larry and Henriette started dating in their senior year at Kailua. He was new to the school, having moved from California. In June 1960, a year after graduation, they got married. Though their families feared they were rushing into things, it actually took Larry a long time to ask for Henriette's hand.

"As far as a proposal, we decided that a long time before," Larry says.

"You set a deadline for yourself. You said, 'If I don't ask them by this date. ...' " Henriette chimes in.

"And I did," Larry defends himself. "But when it came time to talk to her parents, I was so nervous, I was completely soaked."

"You just blurted it out in a moment of silence."

And it was pretty quiet after he said it, too. But Henriette's parents gave their blessing and they were married at her family's home. Her mother made the cake.

A year after that, they bought their little "beach cottage" in Kailua, and over the years, added on and remodeled their house. It is now an island-style dream house, with a man-friendly gazebo in the back and the quintessential covered lanai, spacious and cool, with a big table for meals and parties, a sound system, a TV area, a fridge, wet bar and shelves filled with outdoor dinnerware.

It is here where they've helped raise nieces and nephews, collected a gallery of Larry's paintings and made thousands of malassadas.

On Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday also known as "Fat Tuesday," the Valdezes observe the Portuguese tradition of making malassadas. The practice started in the old plantation days when Portuguese families would use up their lard and sugar before the start of Lent and fasting. The recipe from Henriette's family calls for a lemon-lime syrup instead of a coat of sugar on the malassadas, and they sometimes put pumpkin or potato in the dough.

At the apex of production, Larry, Henriette and their extended family went through 130 pounds of flour on malassada day. Tradition dictates that the dough is kneaded by hand, not with a machine, so Larry and the men take shifts. Back in the "old days" when Henriette's family lived on Miller street by Punchbowl, after the malassadas were made, the event devolved into a flour fight with whatever flour was left over. Clouds of white billowed everywhere as people threw handfuls of flour into each other's hair. It was riotous. Henriette decided one year she wanted to preserve this part of the tradition, too. But she made people throw flour away from her house, and she handed out their ammo in neat little plastic bags. Most Likely to Keep a Tidy House.

For a time, Larry and Henriette joined with family and friends to enter a float in the annual Kailua Parade. They called their entry "Babooze and Company," and one year, featured Santa Claus with an Easter basket and a guava Christmas tree with jars of pickled onions twinkling from the branches.

Henriette, now retired from Hawaiian Equipment/Castle & Cooke, keeps photo albums of all these escapades. She has become a historian for her friends and relatives. Kailua High classmates bring her their yearbooks and memorabilia to keep. She still has their little ribbons from the Horse Election.

Larry, he's not so good at keeping things. In fact, he has lost his wedding ring three times. He's found it three times, too: twice in the mud at job sites during his career at Hawaiian Electric and once buried in five feet of water under 8 inches of sand 30 feet out into the ocean at Kalama beach. That last time just happened this year. A buddy with a metal detector helped get the ring back that time. Most Luckiest indeed.

Though their 50th wedding anniversary is three years away, they're not planning a party. Yet. "We've had parties every five years, for our 25th, our 30th, our 35th. ..." Henriette says.

"And she's the chair of our Kailua High School class reunion, which we've had every five years," Larry adds.

But then again, these two are so Most Likely to Come Up With Something, you never know.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.