I love my fuddah. I was young wen we met. He was the funniest dad you could ever have. But he had an uncanny way of saying "N0" wen you needed something. For example you might ask him, "Dad you can loan me five bucks?" He would reply, "Eh, wat you tink I look like, Bank of Hawaii." Or, "Dad, we can get some ice cream?" Again he would say, "Wat I look like, Farmer Mac."

Dad was a hard worker. He would get up every morning around 4:30-5:00am, take a shower, go to Alvin's Drive-In to buy a cup of coffee and the Honolulu Advertiser. Then he would come home, read the paper, and head off to work around 6:00am.

Before he left, my fuddah did two tings: one, he would kiss my muddah "goodbye", and secondly, he would come in our room, turn on the light and say, "Get up, get ready for school, and no fo' get to water the plants wen you get home from school." Wen my fuddah wen turn da lights on, we was dazed. It was like someone taking a picture with a flashbulb three inches from you face. Surprisingly today we are not walking with a seeing eye German shepherd and white cane. I tink my one bruddah stay reading Braille.

He worked on Oahu, the Big Island and Maui. Sometimes wen he worked on a uddah island we would not see him for two weeks. My muddah was in charge and she would buss us up to remind us "neva question her authority." You cannot knock a father who works and puts food on the table, clothes his kids, and educates them in some of the finest schools in the state (some bruddahs and sistas wen to Kam School).

Wen my fuddah was home and we wanted to go to da movies, we would clean the house and yard extra special. We made sure mom and dad would notice. Den we would spring the question, "Dad, we can go to da movies? He would say, "Eh, who I look like, Kaiser?" But dad loved us and gave us money to get into the movies plus some spending money for coca cola and li hing mui.

The movie place on Farrington Highway was open air and owned by Mr. Aki, da school counselor. The theatre was near to Nakatani's Drive-In. The movie theatre smelled like urine and the asphalt was sticky. And during the movie, da back row was for making out. And somebody always rolled a Coca-Cola bottle under the bench during the movie from the back row, and you would hear roll all the way to the front. And wen it rained, everyone moved to the stage, lay on his or her backs looking up at the picture. Everybody got a stiff-neck after the show.

Wen da movie pau, the kids would plan to meet at the Fire Station on Mano Avenue before going home. As we walked up the driveway my fuddah would leave the porch light on. And it was usually the last person's job that came in to shut the light. And if you forgot to shut the light off and left it on all night, you could hear my fadduh scream the next morning, "Eh, what I look like, Hawaiian Electric ?!"

I love you dad. And wen you visit me in Indiana ... I'll keep the porch light on for you.

Reverend David Kapaku was born at Kapiolani Hospital and grew up in Nanakuli. He graduated in 1976 then moved to Ft. Wayne, Indiana to attend college. He has completed his Masters at Oakland City Graduate School of Theology and will complete his Doctorate in 2001. His parents still live in Nanakuli on Mano Avenue.