A collection of memories, photographs, anecdotes and videos of a life well lived. Henry Elia Kamae Jr, known to many as Uncle Henry, passed away in January 2014. We are using this platform to honor his memory and share the joy and laughter that he brought us with each other.
For Me, your father was a great and positive friend and even though he and I only had moments together, he will always be one of my best friends. Aloha.
-David May
Robert, Jack, Liz, Nohea, Kimberly and Henry
Sea World 2011 Robert, Kryssie, Jack, Melva Robbins, Liz, Nohea, Kimberly and David May, Henry
Canada 2010
Liz, Barbara (Ma) Wahl, Henry
Liz, Kimberly May, Henry, Barbara (Ma) and Ray Wahl
Uncle Henry is an extraordinary man in so many ways. I knew him from Kolohe and was always touched by how he made everyone feel at home and loved, especially new people. His giant gentle hands owned the ukulele like it was a part of his body. His voice was the voice of an angel. He loved to sing through the break, just for the joy of singing a few favorite songs. It was worth coming to Kolohe just to hear him sing a song. He was very supportive of us all, and encouraged us to share our music with others. I loved hearing his stories of his youth. He usually closed the night by telling us how much he loved us, unless we were especially rascally. Uncle Henry, we love you too.
Uncle Henry went to Kaimuki Intermediate and High with Larry Anduha then he went to Kahuku! Larry has photos from the annual. He was 2 years younger than Larry.
We reconnected in Southern California through Bruddah Kenny Kamae and the ukulele music groups. Always gentle, always caring, a big smile and hug....that's how we will remember him. We are fortunate to have known Uncle Henry and to have kanikapila with him from time to time.
Aloha e ke Akua....ma po'ina'ole!
Hedy L. Harrison-Anduha and Larry Anduha Nahenahemakama'eleolani "In God We Trust"
- Following your dad through a job-site in the Oakland area, back in the early 80s (before you were born). He was working as a carpenter on a home remodel. I just remember him striking a large nail into a wood frame with a single blow of the hammer and being in awe of his strength & skill. He was not cocky about it, though. He came off as just a humble worker doing his part to give someone a better home.
- Driving with your mom & dad (again, around 1982) to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk on a rainy winter night. He took a $5 bill out of his wallet, and put it put it in the change machine at the arcade. They watched me with smiles on their faces as I spent every last quarter playing skee ball and arcade games. I grew up on very modest means, so that meant a great deal to me at the time.
- At Patty & Darren's home in California City, in the mid 90s. He led a private performance of a Kamae family hula show, in which you, Keola & Brina were dancers. He sang a number of traditional & popular Hawaiian songs, accompanied by his ukulele. I remember being mesmerized by his voice. I've since been to several professional luaus, but his voice stands out among them all. Perhaps I am a bit biased, but I don't ever recall another singer that ever matched up with his perfect voice.
- In general, I am struck by his gentle, calm demeanor in every interaction that I ever had with him. Yes, I have heard him raise his voice. But it was never mean-spirited - ever. He oozed the true spirit of aloha.
Three years ago, my brother was getting married across the country. We couldn't be there but I was trying to find a way that my dad could sing the Hawaiian Wedding Song for them. I ended up deciding YouTube might be the best and quickest option. I didn't realize that it would be something that people (other than the wedding party) would watch so I didn't even give poor dad a heads up. I just went out there with my little recorder and asked him to play.
This is how beautiful he sounded on the spot. At the drop of a hat. He could definitely bring it. In any key that was good for you. His voice is magic and I am beyond grateful that I have these on the spot, no fuss, quick videos.
