You can find graffiti and highway memorials all over the world. From the top of the Duomo in Florence, Italy to any urban corridor within the States. But what you’ll find along Queen Kaahumanu Highway (Highway 19) between Kailua Kona and Waikui is different. It’s not destructive and is far more personal and more reverential than even the occasional roadside cross memorializing the victims of an accident.
A little background is in order at this point. Highway 19 runs across about 20 miles or so of lava fields. The ancient Hawaiians carved symbols (petroglyphs) into the rock; the meaning or significance of which can only be debated by island archeologists (I’ll avoid that discussion). But today we have less patience for carving, and there are any number of other reasons for not defacing natural environments, so the moderns have adapted a different method to use this vast expanse of black rock for their memorials. It’s a perfect backdrop for almost any expression that can be spelled out or symbolized with white coral (the calcified kind that washes up on every beach on the island). And thousands of people, locals and visitors, have done just that.
Collecting the coral from the beaches, they arrange their message alongside or well off the highway as they please. Yeah, there are a number of uninspired ones like Tom + Jane. But others are more obviously poignant, like the memorial to a man that included a biker’s helmet and other mementos of his life. Others are far more mysterious, short stacks of rocks (known as cairns) that are sometimes used to mark a trail or serve as a symbolic altar of sorts.
It’s enough to make you want to drive slowly or at least stop frequently along the wide shoulder of the highway, just to contemplate some of the arrangements. I particularly liked the shark shape on the mauka (mountain side) of the road.
So here I’ll share a little personal history. When my father was about to muster out of the Navy at the end of World War II, he was so taken by the beauty of the islands that he decided to accept a $200 bonus to just leave the service in Hawaii, rather than having the Navy transport him all the way home to Shelbyville, Missouri. He called his dad to tell him about his decision, and apparently my grandpa was uncharacteristically resistant, suggesting that he would prefer that Dad came home. Reluctantly, Dad returned to Missouri and within a year, Grandpa died of cancer. Dad never regretted his decision (and needless to say, I probably wouldn’t be here had he stayed in Hawaii) but he sometimes wondered about the different path he might have taken.
So here I was on the Big Island, my third trip to the islands within four years; more fully understanding the pull that must have been on Dad’s heart 60 years ago.
Dad passed away less than two years ago, leaving a huge hole in my life. He’s in my thoughts often. I hadn’t had the opportunity to collect enough coral for the type of memorial I would have liked (something like CLM outlined within a heart), so I opted for a small cairn. I hopped the short wall that surrounds the overlook a couple miles north of the airport and set to work. Making sure not to disturb someone else’s work, I gathered a few stray pieces of lava and one of coral and carefully built a small, anonymous stack that I dedicated to my father.
As close to the highway that it is, I hold no illusions that it will withstand the rigors of time, wind, seismic events or even the careless footsteps of someone else. But there is (was?) a small little something that can once again links Dad to the Hawaiian Islands.