Waimaka o ka lani

[la_belle_laide]

Yesterday I woke up to the news that uncle John Koko had died. (John Koko was the guy you probably knew, even if you didn't know you knew him. If you listened to Isreal Kamakawiwo'ole's "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" song, you kinda knew uncle John. Iz was with The Makaha Sons, and John Koko sang and played bass with them.)

I met the Makaha Sons for the first time in 2000, at my first Hula seminar. I had been listening to their music for a year, and by then they elevated to Rock Star status with me. (With most dancers, actually.) So when I went to their concert, and the CD signing afterwards, I was very star-struck and a little intimidated. But, not only were Moon, John and Jerome completely approachable, they were totally fun. In fact, I had to call my Mom and Dad and tell them that I was standing there meeting THE MAKAHA SONS. Uncle Jerome actually got on the phone while I was talking to my Mom and said, "Do you know who this is? Lemme give you a hint." And he started singing "White Sandy Beach to her."

That night, the rest of my halau went out to a steakhouse. I stayed behind because there was nothing on the menu for me. I'm glad I did, because I went to the hotel restaurant, where I met uncle Moon. He was eating alone, too. So we sat down and started talking. We talked for hours, literally until around 2:30 AM. He asked me how serious I was about Hula, and I told him "completely." We exchanged email addresses, and after that, he started giving me free lessons in Hawaiian via email. Sometimes five or six emails a day.

Two years later, I went to Hawai'i. Uncle Moon wasn't able to meet up with me, but the Koko brothers (John and Jerome,) and their wives, Toni and Yolanda, were. The four of them picked me up in their truck, greeted me with tons and tons of leis, and then drove me all around Waikiki all afternoon. They showed me 'Iolani palace. We went to lunch at Sam Choi and saw a show. Uncle John kept telling everyone we met that I was their publicist in New York.

Every year or so, they would do a show in Florida or New York, and my family would always try to schedule a Florida trip to coincide with theirs. My Dad loved Makaha Sons; in fact it's probably not too far off to say that they were his favorite modern band. Everyone in my family adored them. We saw them in Florida once, and my Gran got to meet them, too. At one of these shows, every time uncle John would take a drink of water, he'd announce into the mic: "Beverage!" Well, this became a running gag throughout the show. Eventually it turned dirty—as most references did at these shows—but I can't for the life of me remember in what context.

Thereafter, every show following that, there were always a few a-holes in the audience who would yell out "BEVERAGE!" between songs. I'm not ashamed to admit I was often that a-hole. John would always shout it back though, saying, "The beverage crew is here again!"

A few years ago, they came to New York. Mom, Dad, and Jo-chan and I went to see them. In the middle of the show, Uncle Jerome said, "I want Jules and her family to stand up!" And then they dedicated "Take A Walk In The Country" to us. We met up with them after the concert. Uncle John was always such a big flirt, always telling my Mom how pretty she is and making her blush.

Eventually we all got onto Facebook. Uncle John was really the only one from the group who really got into it. Every day he would post a "Kokolicious" joke, or do a survey, or put up a silly picture. He shared his beautiful paintings, and every year, he would put up his Playgirl Calendar starring himself. He had over 5000 friends on FB and he knew us all. He always had a comment for everyone, and a random, unexpected PM just to say "Aloha, hope you're having a Kokolicious day!"

When my Dad died almost 3 years ago, I took all my Makaha Sons songs off my iPod. I just couldn't bear to listen to them anymore, because they were something I had shared with him. It wasn't until last summer that I was able to hear them again. I had missed their music so much. Last year, I taught a Hula to one of their songs and it was so good to do that again.

But now once again I'm too sad to listen to them. I wish everyone else would, since I can't – at least not for a while.

I know Uncle John meant a lot to lots of different people, and of course the real tragedy is his family's: He was only 51, with four sons and he'd just had a granddaughter, too, only a few months ago. But, this is just how I knew him, and what he meant to me. And this whole thing is just too sad to handle. Also, Facebook is so dreary without him.

Comments

[spatterdash.livejournal.com]

I am so sorry for the loss of uncle John.

[la-belle-laide.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much. I wish everyone could have known him.

[(Anonymous)]

Never knew the whole story Jules. What a wonderful one it is. I'm so sorry you lost such an important and beloved friend. He left behind an enduring gift in his music, and one day you'll be able to listen again. My heart goes out to you and all his loved ones missing him.

RT

[la-belle-laide.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Rachel. He was such a lovely, sweet person.

[celestialgldfsh.livejournal.com]

What a beautiful tribute to Uncle John. Now when I hear "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" (and I do love that version) I'll think of him and what he meant to you.

[la-belle-laide.livejournal.com]

Thank you; that means a lot to me. :D All of their music is beautiful.

[misstottenham.livejournal.com]

Oh no, my heart goes out to you suffering yet another loss, far too many sweetie.

I'm thinking about Uncle John's family and friends, they must be devastated right now. 51 is too young. So sad.

[la-belle-laide.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Misty. Yes, far too many! And 51 - that's just not right. Way too young.