He walked along the concrete foundation of a dance hall, long-gone, on the slopes of Diamond Head. This had been a hot pick-up spot for the young military officers in Honolulu, with forties music elevating to a fever pitch the youth and enthusiasm of a post-war encampment at Fort Ruger. Now only this solid promontory was left as evidence of a time long-gone.
The bushes which overgrew the area obscured the view of the Honolulu skyline, much as the manicured foliage had done that autumn post-war evening fifty years ago. Kapiolani Park to downtown Hotel Street to Alakea Street and on to Pearl Harbor . . . the view was pixie dust in the darkening sky.
The trail down the slopes on flat walking-stones was partially obscured by prickly, stringy vegetation which opened to a grassy area that was, in times past, the garden, and which gave another perspective of the the darkening blue skyline.
It was here amid the beauty and grandeur of Honolulu that life unfolded.