Kailua Reverie

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By James Dannenberg

Author James Dannenberg has often written for HONOLULU about Kailua. This column is bittersweet for him—and for us—as  he’s preparing to leave his beloved beachfront town for new adventures on the Mainland.

Photo by Heather Titus

Always having had a well-developed sense of place, I’ve hated leaving everywhere I’ve ever lived, even dumpy student apartments. So imagine how difficult it’s going to be to leave Kailua, where I’ve lived for 30 years. The reason for my leaving doesn’t matter; it’s enough that I’m not fleeing.

It may be somewhat trite to say that place is more a state of mind than a physical reality, but the mind perpetuates and embellishes the quotidian realities of any physical environment, creating a truly portable reality. And one collects a lot of memories after 30 years.

Kailua has changed since I first saw it in the 1970s. Most of those changes have been on the surface, however. I was happy to trade the old Taco Hut for the Kalapawai Café, though I dearly miss Andy’s Drive-in and L’Auberge Swiss. Not to mention the old Longs and Payless Drugs, with their dueling Sunday ads. New restaurants and businesses abound, some pretty upscale for a sleepy little Windward town. Who would have dreamed that we would ever have a Starbucks, a Pier1, a California Pizza Kitchen and at least five Italian restaurants?

This used to be an affordable community.  Back in 1978 I remember a nice beachfront property asking $225,000 (about $740,000 in today’s dollars).  Now you’ll pay three times that, just for a small condo. A vacant lot down the street just sold for $1 million. Where’s that bursting bubble when you really need it?

Then there’s the increased traffic that goes along with the upscale spiral. But this is a reverie; not a kvetch.

The things I really love about Kailua haven’t changed at all. Every morning I walk those glorious beaches to catch the sunrise, and I’m never disappointed. Even if it’s cloudy or rainy, there’s the sound of the surf, the smell of squalls, the caress of the trades, and the feel of that fine sand between my toes to remind me of island perfection.  When I pass friend and stranger alike there’s usually a wave and “good morning” exchanged, and we mean it.

If I have to go to town to work or play, I can experience the world’s most beautiful commute on the Pali and feel a rush of exhilaration on seeing the Ko‘olaus and the ocean as I return through the tunnel.

Another thing that hasn’t changed is that I always leave my house unlocked. A few years ago I wanted to write that on these pages, but my editor wouldn’t let me, thinking it might set me up for a burglary. I laughed then and I laugh now. At the very least, my admission won’t reach the right (or wrong) demographic through these pages.

Kailua is a gentle place to live, devoid of most urban pretensions and dangers. I can wear my T-shirt and shorts anywhere. Many friends think I’m nuts to leave, and who can blame them?

     But there’s a lot of Kailua I’ll take with me and savor, even while I’m shoveling snow.