My fav Prez as is most peoples is the same one invariably rated tops by Presidential historians that being the one in the title of this post - Mr. Abraham. Second up for me and in the top 10 when combining partisan red and blue record keepers is the islands own Barack. Sure he made mistakes but he done good too.
Whatever this post is not about Presidents at all, but it is about Honolulu's Lincoln Avenue. Located in the Kapahulu area just a tad mauka and diamond head of Leonard's- it consists of a short sans sidewalk stretch running perpendicular from Kapahulu up to Sixth Avenue. The name is a give away that the homes there are old as all residential streets since Statehood are mandated by law to have Hawaiian names. I lived there at 3149 B from the spring of 1976 to 1979 in a small duplex cottage in back of a single-family home. You could hear the resident on the other side of my cabin but fortunately for me, she was an elderly woman who didn't make noise and wasn't there too long after I moved in. Her successor was a cop but he when not banging away usually lived elsewhere. Probably did that to avoid the landlord who came around often trying to collect due rent. One day Mister moneybags got so ticked off he entered the cops abode and threw all his clothes and belongings out on our postage stamp size lawn. Good grief!
While walking on Lincoln I thought of those days as a single person living on my own. Hiking with the Sierra Club and making friends with yet to be Haleakala ranger Ron Nagata whose home was just makai of mine. The get to gethers with Ken and Clyde and Kay and Wes and Grace. Visitors Cousin Gail, Steve and Barb, Chaiyutha and my brothers, The first six months of married life with Betty were spent there which brought to mind midday lunch breaks, and the infamous addition of two cups of sugar to spaghetti sauce. Pat Martin, the pastor's wife told me after we were married that the first year is the hardest. She was right and in her wisdom, she left it to me to figure out that it is also if not number one certainly in the top three of the best years.
Neighbor diamond head side Mr. Nakayama's home was about three feet from the space next to the cottage steps where parked the five-speed on the floor throwaway engine vega gt. He was always friendly and took me on a tour of his bomb shelter with its six months worth of canned goods supplies. The shelter was a concrete bunker under the ground and plenty Kaimuki people in those days had em. The family streetside of me in I never got to know other than to wave hello. The patriarch was always in the yard tending to the garden and extraditing weed seedlings before such could take root. He seemed pleasant enough, just never cared to talk.
As Lincoln is not a thoroughfare to anywhere I had only driven by two or three times in the past 40 years. This week though arrived a half hour early for an appointment at nearby Olu street so decided to take a stroll in the old neighborhood. The yards what there are of them are now as they were back then - immaculate. Most of the homes have been either rebuilt with the original first floor going on top of a new dwelling, or replaced completely. That's what Mr.Nakayama did. My cottage was gone too. In its place stood a two-story unrecognizable structure. My mailbox was 3149 B but only A remains now.
Apparently, the new structure took the place of B and I stared at it from the street awhile and then as passing the house that was in front of our cottage, peered through the mango and plumeria trees to notice an elderly man weeding or possibly tending his flower garden. I looked at him a few seconds and then blurted out a hello. He didn't seem to react so I repeated the greeting and then he turned around and I waved at him. He came over to the front of his yard and warily asked "May I help you?" Understand, I had on a good size loaded hiking pack and a three-week beard which makes me look interchangeable with those wearing cardboard signs so he had good cause to be cautious.
Excitedly I exclaimed, "I lived behind your house for three years a very long time ago."
He looked me up and down displaying the biggest open jaw smile I ever saw while his bright brown eyes lit up with recognition.
"I met my wife here!"
He smiled again then turned around and went back to his weeding.
Betty told me that evening no way that could be the same man when we were there as he was old back then even. But in those days everyone over 35 seemed ancient. For my money am positive he is the same gentleman and is more than likely in his 90's now. I never knew his name when lived there and don't know it now but walking on Lincoln Avenue and that encounter sure made my day.
post script: A photo of the gardener's house can be found on google maps when search for 3149 Lincoln Honolulu. No pictures of the cottage were located. The Chevy Vega was notable for its aluminum engine of which the mechanic told me was lucky got the 50,000 miles out of that did.
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