Oh the subtle sounds of growing up in Nanakuli...like your neighbors rooster coming in your back yard around five in the morning waking up the dead. You open the window and and throw something at the bloody rooster but he just go over the fence and make more noise. And there's nothing like the sound of your neighbors across the street fighting around midnight, swearing at each other, then pulling out of the driveway screeching the tires as it heads down the road...only to come back at two in the morning with the muffler dragging on the asphalt and getting out of the car crying, "I sorry Kuulei, I not going talk stink about you mudda again." Ahhh! The sounds of growing up in Nanakuli.
But the best sounds you remember are the Mosquito Truck, Charlie the Manapua Man and Farmer Mac. Do you remember the Mosquito Truck? My friend Mitchell always looked forward to the Mosquito Man. His mother liked to clean the yard in the evening while Mitchell wanted to head over to the park and play volleyball. And when he heard the Mosquito Man coming, he would wait till the truck would passed by so he could sneak through the smoke and head over to the park. His mother would scream, "Mitchell, where you? Gonfunnit, I catch you, you goin get dirty lickens." Mitchell never care but when he got home...it was curtains.
Charlie the Manapua Man drove an old green car and would go up and down the street selling ice cream and manapua, okole, gelatin rice, black sugar, etc. It didn't matter where or what you was doing, when you heard Charlie ringing the bell, you dropped everything and headed to the end of your driveway yelling, "Stop! Stop! Eh Charlie stop!" Sometimes you would get to the end of your driveway and see Charlie way up the road next to the Kaeo's house. It would seem like he was up there forever and then you would see his car move...only to go to the Meyrers' house where they had like twenty thousand kids. Still clutching your dollar, you wait patiently until Charlie drives up to you. You order manapua but Charlie says, "No more, sold out." Then you look up the road and see the Meyers eating manapua. Auwe. But Charlie died and a new ice cream truck made its way down Mano Avenue.
Farmer Mac was a red volkswagon bus that played music. While Charlie rang the bell, Farmer Mac had stupid music. But when we heard the music, we would head down the driveway waving our dollar flagging him down. We would always order drumstick ice cream. It was so routine, everytime Farmer Mac would stop he would open the refrigerator and hand us ten drumsticks. But one day we changed our order. When he stopped and pulled in front of us, he said, "I know, ten drumsticks." We said, "No, we like ten sandwiches." Threw the guy off. As he drove down the street, we would run and jump on the back bumper until he would stop and yell at us often swearing. We did the same to Charlie but he was too old to do anything.
Now that I live in Indiana and hear the music coming from an ice cream truck, I say to myself, "Farmer Mac!" Oh the subtle sounds of growing up in Nanakuli.
About Author
I grew up in Nanakuli and graduated from Nanakuli High in 1976. I am currently living in Ft. Wayne, Indiana where I am pastoring a congregation and finishing my doctoral work next year. After I complete my doctorate, I will return and start a church on Maui. My parents still live in Nanakuli on Mano Avenue.
