Remember YOUR "small keed time"?
Those were the good old days! YOU were young, innocent, naive and maybe even a little bit "kolohe" (rascal). When you look back, I bet you cannot help but grin, yeah? I bet you can just feel a longing oozing up inside of you for a time when life was much simpler. Wherever you live now, if you grew up in Hawaii, you must remember your "hanabuddah days". Eh, no shame ... we all had "hanabuddah".
Eh … right now get choke stories already online written by Hawaiians and Hawaiians at heart. Most all writers had the unique life experience of growing up in Hawaii. That’s why the site is called ”Hanabuddah Days”.
Enjoy these personal stories.
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Written by Mona Sands
My grandparents immigrated from Japan when they were barely fifteen years old. They ended up working the pineapple fields on Oahu. Years later they moved to Hana, Maui, and lived in the plantation housing. I was living in Kaneohe, Oahu, my parents would send me to Hana every summer to stay with obachan and ojichan. It was the mid-fifties.
My grandparents couldn't speak a lick of English and I couldn't speak Japanese. I had to study expressions, hand gestures and tones of their voices to figure
Read more: Summers in Hana
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Written by Nicole Doi
I've got lots and lots of fond memories growing up in Hawaii . Now living on the mainland, looking back it seemed like endless summer days. This was always good because the weather can be pretty brutal during the winters. I remember eating shaved
Read more: Endless Summers
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Written by Lorrin Heleloa
When I was about nine years old, my dad would regularly take me with him on weekend nights to his favorite hang-out, BarbeQue Inn on Kalakaua Ave. in Waikiki. All the locals stopped by and played Bumper Pool and Shuffleboard. The owners, Francis and
Read more: Late Night Jam Session
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Written by Sandra Samson Thomas
This is a story about a bridge that separates old camp and new camp in Kunia. If you have lived in Kunia which is a little plantation camp between Schofield and Waipahu then you know about this bridge. It is a small bridge made of cement with bars
Read more: The Bridge in Kunia
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Written by William Hooper
"What are you two mumbling about?" asked my Mom. "The Portagees are here for the weekend," I replied. Really don't know why we called them "The Portagees." They lived up St. Louis Heights and went to Saint Louis, that alone in the early 1950s
Read more: Us Portagees
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Written by Kamaka Brown
We walked along the beach at Waimea with our towels. The waves rolled in gentle swells and broke a few yards out from the shore. White water swelled at our ankles feeling cool and refreshing. Ahh .. summertime on the North Shore. A perfect cloudless
Read more: The Rock
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Written by Steve Yagyagan
I was juss one simple plantation "boysan" back in da day. I grew up in one humble famly on da Waialua Shugah Plantation. My faddah iz Ilocano wid some adda stuff. My muddah wuz Samoan wid some English o some kinda mixtcha from Europe, bless her haht
Read more: My Favorite Puka Pants
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Written by Kamaka Brown
Daddy was stopping the car. He had pulled over to the side of the road. I had been dozin' in da back seat so I neva spoc' em like usual.
"Oh, Daddy," It was my muddah, "you have your good clothes on !" "Mommy." he was determined
Read more: Da Good Stuffs
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Written by Kamaka Brown
DING DING. My fuddah roll ova the rubbah hose at Abe Chevron in Haleiwa.
"Wot? Fillum Mup etto?" the service station attendant said to my fuddah.
"Yeah" he said, "might as well." My fuddah always put etto insai da car.
"I don't put the cheap stuff
Read more: Fillum Mup