Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 30, Number 4, 1 ʻApelila 2013 — Drive safe! [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Drive safe!

n doing our people's work, I've spent a lot of time across 30 years on airplanes flying between Kona and Honolulu or in a vehicle traversing Moku O Keawe; 24 years at Kamehameha Schools, six years now at the Office of Hawaiian Affairs.

I hate to be late. If I'm flve minutes early, I'm late. Isn't that "nuts" being so, so ultrasensitive to time? I ean tell you how mueh time it takes, plus or minus flve minutes, to get from my home in Waimea to Laiopua 2020 in Kailua-Kona, Waimea to Nāwāhīkalani'ōpu'u in Kea'au to meet with Pila or Kauanoe Wilson, Waimea to Julia Neal's Plantation Cottages in Pāhala, Waimea to the Intergenerational Center in Kapa'a to visit David Fuertes, Waimea to Hilo Airport or Kona Airport to catch an airplane. Hilo Airport from my home is 57 miles, Kona Airport 44 miles. To catch the 6:30 a.m. flight from Hilo to Honolulu, I have to leave home at 3:45 in the morning. To catch the 6:15 a.m. flight from Kona to Honolulu, I have to leave home at 4:30. As we all are creatures of habit, I know you have your own stories to tell about how far you travel daily and how you eope with time factors. And yes, you have your own stories to tell about things you've seen from behind your steering wheel or from the portal of an airplane. I remember one morning driving to Kona Airport on the ma uka road (Route 19) to catch the early bird flight to O'ahu. It was March 1988 about 5 a.m. at the 21-mile marker just Kona side of the entrance to the eupeake pu'u at Pu'uanahulu. I could see the tail lamps of a car stopped right in the middle of the road. I had no ehoiee but to stop. There was no way to get around this aeeident. I got out of my car to niele

(see what was going on). The driver was a lady driving a shiny gold Mercedes Benz. She had hit a Hereford bull that had gotten onto the highway. The front end of the Mercedes was palahē (spoiled by impact); steam was pouring out from under the hood, debris everywhere. The woman was

decked out in her flnest; bawling and cussing at the poor bull spread-eagle on the hood of a onee beautiful maehine. I watched the drama; woman crying guts out, using select four-letter words, bull minutes away from entering the tunnel of white light, sun rising over Puna. The road soon looked like a used-car lot; trafflc backed up for about three quarters of a mile on the Waimea side, half a mile on the Kona side. Cops and tow truck arrive finally. The mess was cleared, road reopened, life went on. I felt so sorry for the bull. Somebody ate hamburger for months I'm sure, and somebody got sued I'm certain. This happened in the 20th century; fast-forward to the 21st century, six months or so ago. I'm driving home one evening to Waimea from Kona Airport on Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway. I see a car in my rearview mirror passing car after car. This dude was flying, overtaking four, six vehicles at a shot. He flnally got behind me at the Waikoloa Village Intersection. There were six cars in front of me. Onee we got through the intersection, "Bully" was gone. Before he left us in the dust, I got his plate ID - "Bully," it read. "Bully," I hope you're OK because I haven't seen you since. Drive safe. ■

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Rūbert K. Lindsey, Jr. Trustee, Hawai'i