It was May 1955. My parents made me “dress up” in a coat and tie, which was not one of my favorite activities, then whisked us off to say goodbye to one of our neighbors, Mrs. Ethel Hogg.

I don’t remember the Hoggs (pronounced with a long ‘O’, like Hoe-Gah), but I remember about them. He was a photographer, and maintained a darkroom in a narrow room on the side of their garage. He used a large format camera, at least that’s the one I can remember, and produced wonderful photos. I have several 8×10 photos of our house in Kahala as it looked in the early 1950s. And I remember that they had lived in India, and acquired a taste for hot foods, spicy curries, and mango chutney, which we heard about as long as they lived next door. But now they were moving. Back to England? I don’t remember.

Were they an influence on my mother’s mango chutney recipe? Now I have to wonder about that.

That’s me in the photo, on the right, sitting next to my dad. On the other side of the table, my sister Bonnie sits next to my mother. Mrs. Hogg decked out in lots of flower lei. The rest of the people? A mystery, as far as I’m concerned.

Oh…now I don’t own a coat and tie. If I’m invited to an event that requires them, I simply decline, citing my inability to comply with the wardrobe demands. It has worked for decades.