One of the unique things about living in Hawai'i was you could know people by what they were known for and not by their given names. These weren't musicians or news anchors, but rather the people you and I would see everyday while walking to the store or hanging out at the park.

My parents, my aunties and uncles all knew people by these "names". There was a guy up in Pauoa named "Rat Chew Face" who used to hang out at the Kamamalu Corner Store on Lusitana Street and the video game room next door. He was so named because a rat chewed his face up when he was a child. Then there was the bum in downtown Honolulu who wore loads of clothing. He always had a juice jug with a mysterious yellow liquid inside. My dad, who was never afraid to talk or associate with anyone, proudly called him "Malolo Jug Man". My mom also told my sister there was a guy at Pearlridge Center who would come out of doors and scare little girls. He didn't really exist, but we called him "Pearlridge Man". I know there were many other people that we didn't know by name, but we knew them by the nicknames.

When I lived in Pauoa Valley, there was a kid who always came to our house every two weeks to deliver us sweet bread. Since our house was in an area that had a number of hills, I figured he had his work cut out for him. Nonetheless, he would have a huge box of sweet bread that he would place on his head and carry all around. We called him "Sweet Bread Boy".

He didn't have a set schedule or anything. He would just come around and when we saw him, we bought bread from him. The bread wasn't homemade, it was from King's Bakery. I'm not sure if he really worked for them or if he worked like a newspaper carrier, delivering to the customer door to door. For many years, Sweet Bread Boy could be relied on to come down our street with his bread.

I never knew how old he was, but I knew he was older than I was at the time. He must have been around twelve or at least in his early teens. While it really didn't matter what he was, I don't think we ever figured out his ethnic background. He looked Black, but he could have been Samoan or Tongan. Half of the time the big box on his bolo-head would shadow his face.

I always thought Sweet Bread Boy was exclusive to Pauoa Valley, or at least the surrounding area. But one day, when we were driving to Waipahu we saw him. He had that big box full of sweet bread on his head delivering to a few houses. By the time I was twelve, he had grown a full head of hair. We were still regular customers of his, picking up a loaf or two each time.

We were driving around a few months before my family moved from Hawai'i and we spotted him at Ewa Beach. A few weeks later, we saw him delivering in Makaha. Still he maintained his scheduled and delivered to us in Pauoa. He must have been around seventeen at this point, but Sweet Bread Boy could have been an independent businessman probably trying to make ends meet. We never found out if he was doing it for himself or to help his family. I never knew his name or what happened to him.

My relatives always have fond memories of the Chinese manapua man in Kaimuki. From what my mom tells me, there would be the old man with his two buckets of manapua, which he carried on his back with a stick. He would walk around the neighborhood delivering the warm pork buns. Just as kids were aware that the ice cream man was coming down their street, my parents always remembered the manapua man walking down the street. For me, I have my memories of the Sweet Bread Boy.

I've got many theories about where Sweet Bread Boy is today. One is that he is married, has a few kids, and maybe his children are continuing on with his tradition. Another is he met someone who told him he can do better and he has a classy computer software company somewhere in Silicon Valley. Even one that says he finally settled down and owns a little restaurant in Nu'uanu. Considering how much ground he covered during his deliveries and how popular he was, I am sure I'm not the only one who was touched by the Sweet Bread Boy.

John Book was raised in Pauoa Valley on the Island of Oahu. He now lives in Pasco, Washington where he also graduated from high school in 1988. He is a freelance music journalist who has a small number of artist specific websites, including a Hawaiian Music Corner. "Being a web designer pays the bills!" John says. He is currently single, but hopes a move back to Hawai'i within the next few years will change that.