Category Archives: Personal

December 7th–My dad’s birthday, among other world events

It’s been 108 years since my father, John Montgomery Lind, was born, second son of Scot immigrants. He was born and lived his first few years in Berkeley, California, where his father built a house on Burnett Street, if I recall correctly. Later, the family moved down to Long Beach as my grandfather followed work in the west coast shipyards.

It is also the anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

My parents told of going to a football game and partying afterwards on the night of the 6th. On a whim, I looked up the Honolulu Advertiser’s December 7 edition. It was the morning newspaper, so was already on the street when the attack began around 8 a.m.

The football game was between the University of Hawaii and Willamette University (Salem, Oregon) in the Shrine Classic, and was apparently a big deal, as the Advertiser reported a crowd of 24,400 packed into the old Honolulu Stadium in Moiliili.

That was 9.5% of Oahu’s total population at the time! Compared to the population, that would be like a crowd of 97,593 today.

I never heard any stories about the after-game party, but they were still bed when my grandmother called from Waipahu with word of what they first thought were very realistic maneuvers taking place. It didn’t take long, though, to figure out this was the real deal.

In the past, I’ve written a number of December 7 posts, with a letters describing that day, one from my mother to her sister, and another by University of Hawaii Professor Carey D. Miller. You can easily find then with a little searching.

Here’s another bit of December 7 lore.

First, a photo of my dad at lunch up at the Contemporary Art Museum in Makiki on his birthday in 2006, followed by a page he typed later describing #93.

My father’s notes on his 93rd birthday, Dec. 7, 2006 by Ian Lind on Scribd

RIP Bob Jones

Two Sundays ago, veteran journalists Bob Jones and Denby Fawcett joined Meda and I for breakfast at the Elks Club in Waikiki. It was, as usual, a pleasant breakfast, good stories and questions raised, queries answered, all against the backdrop of the blue waters of the Pacific.

Earlier this year, we sponsored Bob as a new member of Elks Lodge 616, giving him access to the club’s facilities, and he let us know how much he was enjoying his new status.

So it was with deep regret that we learned Bob left this life last Monday, just a week after our oceanfront repast.

Soon after I crawled out of bed this morning, I was surprised to find my iPad had delivered up a series of photos from Thanksgiving 2017, when we had gladly accepted Bob’s last minute invitation to join a small group at their house for dinner. His email arrived at 11:25 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning.

would you like to join our gang for dinner — turkey breast and all?

no need bring anything. we and various guests have already done a full menu.

It was a most welcome invite, and likely saved us from scrounging through our freezer for something for dinner. If we had a turkey, it was still frozen.

Bob, as his friends know, wasn’t just a world-class reporter, he was an excellent and enthusiastic cook, and this meal showed off his many skills! What a fine meal it was!

The call

Well, after some technology shifts, I connected with my newly found brother via FaceTime yesterday morning, and we talked for almost two hours.

We had a very good talk, with information overload in both directions, but we didn’t stumble into any topics that caused us difficulty.

He had been browsing my Facebook posts as well as this blog, and I’ve browsed his online presence as well.

At one point when there was a lull in our lively exchange, he asked about a photo I posted back in 2017 during a trip to Las Vegas, taken as I posed with a life-size cardboard Donald Trump.

He asked the question very cautiously, something like, “So, are you a Trump supporter?”

I worried that my answer might not be what he wanted to hear, but it seemed like something we needed to clarify between us.

“No, far from it,” I replied, or something along those lines.

I shouldn’t have worried, as he was immediately relieved by my answer.

Living in Florida, he’s in Trump territory, but is not one of them. We found ourselves on common ground. Whew!

Anyway, it was two hours of “you show me yours and I’ll show you mine” back-and-forth disclosures about our lives, families, memories joyful and painful.

I tried my best to paint a useful picture of my–well, our–father, one that would give him an initial working sense of the man he never knew. Somehow, I think I managed, aided by all the online posts I’ve written about him over 20 years of blogging.

I have to say that the road of life my brother has been on was extremely rough and rocky at times, and I’m impressed at his amazing resilience. He seems to be in a very good place now.

The best thing is that we both enjoyed our first meeting and the long talk, and look forward to more.

I’ll have to be circumspect for a while, since he’s being selective who he’s letting in on the news of our DNA match, and I’ve got to respect that.

Eleven years since we scattered my dad’s ashes outside the Ala Wai Yacht Harbor

Veterans Day, November 11, 2010.

It was the day we returned my dad to the ocean he loved so much throughout his 97 years.

He would have enjoyed the ride, I think.

Four canoes from the Waikiki Surf Club accompanied my dad’s boat, the Nadu K-2, from the harbor, out through the channel, and beyond the waves where the canoes circled around, flowers accompanied his ashes as they were scattered into the ocean, and last words were said in his honor and memory.

That’s the Nadu K-2 in the background, on the right.

Back in the years after the end of WWII, my dad had been one of the founders of the Waikiki Surf Club and its first president, and the club turned out in his honor.

Click to see the rest of the photos posted from that day.