I was born in Kakaako in 1937.  Moved to Kalihi when I was about 8.  My memory is a community of diverse cultures, household heads being grandparents. Pidgin the 3rd. Language of the children who played together.  No sidewalks, just good, old dirt to play marbles. Mixed in, a candy factory on the corner of the block.  Naval supply depot (use to be a race track), barbed wire fencing about 2feet from the house we used to hang the wash.  Ice truck came by once a week, and the Manapua man selling his  buns and dim sum.  An rooms-to-let apartment complex owned by a Russian man. Kodak's big building where I use to slide down its smooth, concrete ramps.  This was a neighborhood, a village, a wonderful place to call home.