Hickam Tales

by Michael G. Crawford

We lived about 4 blocks from the officers club, right off the main street that curved from the main gate up to O-club. Memory says third street, but who knows. We lived in a duplex. I was sixteen thru eighteen there, and have many super memories of the place. There was a plumeria bush behind the lanai, the next door neighbor's kid was an impressionable 14 year that kept chasing me all the time we were there, and across teh street were two teenage boys and two very precocious catholic girls that I swear were trying to get me married young.

We used to park cars for the O-club, and that was fun, cuz we got to drive all the hot cars the young officers had (triumphs, mustangs, camaros, you name it). I also worked in the O-club snack bar for a few months as a cook.

The CINCPAC's house was over along the fence that kept us from going into the water that served as the Hickam side of the channel into Pearl Harbor. The channel on our side was lined with a concrete wall that stood about three feet off the water. Next to the CINCPAC's house was a neat park that was kept in fine condition, and only later in our stay at Hickam did I find out that it was also a security buffer for the guy's house. The House itself was a two story victorian that appeared very much like the house in the movie with Charlton Heston (all I remember is him calling a chinese servant, Wing-Chun's Mama).

Anyway, the base was quite beautiful in our time there (half way through 68 to half way through 71). It was like living in Paradise, and being on base was a real treat.

I used to take my girlfriend to Hickam Harbor and the Golden Anchor restaurant that was on the small harbor at the seaward edge of the base just past the far edge of the ramp, which was next to the golf course. Hickam Harbor had a few small "sailers", with maybe 12 foot masts (5 to 7 feet long boats?). I learned some rudimentary sailing (got wet a few times!) out there.

Once my father signed he and I up for a deep sea fishing trip out of Hicham Harbor, and we caught some Ahi (Tuna I think) and I managed to reel in (I think they made it happen and then handed me the pole) a better than six foot swordfish (maybe a Marlin, but I don't know the difference even today). We took a picture of us holding it up and it was certainly longer than my 5 foot, 11 inch frame. It was almost as wide as I was too! Quite a thrill. He was good too! We had swordfish steaks for a few days, never get tired of that. I cut the sword off and kept it around until it stank so bad my dad put his foot down and out it went. We couldn't afford to have it mounted, beside we really wanted the meat and I guess that screws the skin up to much to mount it anyway.

For fun we'd usually head off base...getting into any kind of trouble on base was bad for our parent's careers not to mention double trouble for us kids.

We would pull out the main gate and swing to the right, but moved into the left hand lane of a six lane highway heading toward Honolulu. We would swing around to the left (a long left curve that headed you in the opposite direction) and be on the highway that paralleled the coast at Pearl Harbor, go past the gate at that Navy Base, and then swing right to head down into a local area (as in "Local"), I keep wanting to call Hallieva Heights. It was not a slum but it was pretty rough territory. Usually we'd skip on through there to reach the road that ran from Pearl City to the Salt Lake (which is now where the sports stadium is). On that road was Radford High School, a big rambling campus complete with recessed football/track stadium. Once, in an inflight emergency, a Coast Guard helo set down in there no problem. Took off that night after repairs.

Up above Pearl City, a couple of my friends managed to rent a house after graduating from high school (I was a Senior that year 69-70), so we had some fun parties up there. They passed up the chance to buy the place for $15,000 at the end of that year. We have kept track over the years and houses in that area go for well over $300,000 now. What a shame.

My long time steady (almost married her) girlfriend lived in Waipaua (I think that's the right spelling). So I used to frequent that coastal road and spent many a half hour to 45 minutes commuting back and forth. I'd pick her up and continue that direction (felt like North) towards Waimea or come back into Honolulu. We spent hours on Waikaki and in the Ala Moana shopping center. We used to get char-sui (red painted meat with sweet and sour sauce glazed on it...pork I think). Hmmmm. Makes my mouth water.

We also hung around outside the more popular hotel bars listening to Martin Denny and other "island" musical acts. We didn't go in for Don Ho, but loved the sounds of jazz or marimba bands. Denny's xylophone and bird like whistles made haunting sounds that we never got tired of.

At the Waikiki Shell (a classical "Shell" for classical concert music) we saw (on the same night) Santana and Jimi Hendrix. Santana opened with the lilting, slow piano note of "Treat", and as the sun set and dissappeared, they launched into their more typical powerful rythmns. It was magical to say the least. Jimi Hendrix opened with Fire. The concert was a Friday and Saturday schedule. We had tickets for both shows. Five minutes into the second show, he got pissed off about the quality of the grounding on the amps or the guitars, screamed about the "F'in Hum", and stomped off stage saying, "Meet me at HIC". That was (IS?) the big flying saucer looking affair on Kalikua Avenue downtown. There is (was) a big park across from it, and on Sunday he set up a small fender amp and plugged in. He jammed for about two hours at eye level to a bigger crowd than was at the Shell. It was incredible. Despite the little amp, we all heard some of the best guitar playing by any solo artist ever. His drummer kept time with a big foot on a crate or something, not real loud but certainly audible enough to keep everything in sync. All through this impromptu gig, tall blondes in his entourage would slink by him, hands touching his arms, chest, back, and face. There were in typical late 60s clothes (tight and skimpy), and tall and blonde...I guess I said that. My girlfriend kept grinning and slugging my shoulder as I gaped...all good fun. The gig wound up as some three lines in the local paper, but for those of us there, well, it was the best.

I saw the Mamas and the Papas; Peter, Paul and Mary; Santana; Led Zeppelin; Donovan; Jefferson Airplane; Joan Baez (any number of times); The Young Rascals; and perhaps Steppenwolf and Peter Burton.

All in all, and as I've said before, it was a magical time for us young kids, and as you said livin' and lovin' was the mode. From puppy love to even more.

I also have some X rated stories about growing up amongst tourist woman who decided to throw all their inhibitions away...but I doubt I'll ever write that down...too hard to believe anyway.