Micky got a job during the day, and I was bored. I decided to go to real estate school. John thought it was a good idea. One thing about my husband is he always supported me in all my decisions and would do anything he could for me. I could still watch the kids at night. I went to school and received my Hawaiian real estate license on July 7, 1987. I was thirty years old. I was proud of the achievement but wasn’t crazy about the job. Basically, I had to be on-call twenty-four seven. I also didn’t like the fact that I worked on commission. So, I had to play the buyer against the seller. If I gave the buyer the best deal, I was cutting into my own commission. I didn’t think this was for me. I decided to just hang my license on the wall and be done with it.
My friend Carlie, from Las Vegas, called. She and Dan were getting married, and they were going to honeymoon in Hawaii. It was so nice to see her, and I loved Dan. They were a striking couple. He was tall with a big build, handsome, and very sweet, and Carlie was so tiny with a contagious giggle. John and Dan hit it off and we had a blast. We all went to a luau at sunset on the beach and it was magical. We were greeted with genuine flower leis, not those plastic crap ones. We ate kalua pig cooked in an imu (earth oven), which was an event in itself. The presentation was amazing. They had mahi and all sorts of weird dishes. I tried them all. They had hula dancers and fire twirlers. John even had a drink. I was surprised because he hardly drank. It was some pink thing with flowers and umbrellas. It looked cool.
We also went on an excursion on the road to Hana. The roads were pretty curvy, and there were a lot of one-lane bridges. I later learned there were over 600 curves and over fifty-one-lane bridges. The road to Hana is fifty-two miles long and very windy. We drove through a rainforest with exotic flowers and bamboo jungles. We stopped at one of the tourist attractions called the seven sacred pools and we swam under the waterfalls. The majestic cliffs were amazing, but I noticed there were no fences. I couldn’t help but think if anyone was ever pushed over, they would never be found. Fortunately, there was no violence or murders in Maui. But though it was not out in the open, there was a lot of wife and child abuse.
Another interesting attraction was located in Paia, known as the windsurfing capitol of the world. It's located on Hana Highway. Tourists and locals would sit and watch these professional wind surfers from Ho’okipa beach who made it look so elegant and easy. When my husband first moved to Maui, he decided that he was going to go boogie boarding in Paia. Watching the windsurfers makes the water look safe because of their professional skill. An undercurrent swept him out into the deep ocean in minutes. The waves were high, and he was in trouble. The current took him to a dangerous spot under the Ho’okipa lookout, and locals watched but were unable to help him. The strong winds and surges made it impossible for any of the windsurfers to attempt to help. As he held onto his board for flotation, one of the tourists threw him a rope, and they were able to pull him out of the water. Just in time before his exhaustion would have been his demise. Luckily for me, he was unharmed.
John was working all the time and didn’t want me to spend any money on the baby. He figured we could get everything used. Micky and Linda gave me a shower, and I had plenty of stuff for the baby to start, but I needed a crib and a changing table and I wanted nice things. I still was stashing money from the grocery store but that wasn’t enough. John brought home a rickety old crib someone gave him and I was livid. I complained to Linda and she told me there was an opening where she worked in retail; I applied and got the job. I got paid minimum wage plus commission. It was a busy store in the middle of a tourist section, and I earned more than enough money for the entire nursery. I wanted everything to match, and I’d always liked teddy bears. I finally found matching everything in this little store in Lahaina. The pattern was baby blue teddy bears. I was never fond of pink. My nursery was finished. I continued working as long as I could. I stashed money to pay for my mini vacations to Connecticut and told John I’d spent it on groceries.
When I was five months pregnant, decided I wanted to become a pilot. John made a deal with his friend Brad. He would fix Brad's plane and I would get free flying lessons. He was a certified instructor and flew a Cessna. You had to pass an Instrument Pilot knowledge test and a practical test. I studied; it was a piece of cake. I wanted to be a pilot. I wanted to demand respect. My baby girl and I were ready to fly. I needed thirty hours of dual instruction for the minimum requirement of flight time. Brad said it usually took about fifty hours, and I also needed ten hours of solo time.
We all went to the airport where Brad helped me into the Cessna while John and the kids saw me off. I was in the pilot seat and there were dual controls. That was so if there was an emergency or I messed up, Brad's controls would override mine. I was a natural and I was so free. I couldn’t stop giggling when the aircraft just lifted because of the structure and wind. I won’t get technical because it's boring. Brad was the best instructor in the world. Flying was better than any drug. It was the ultimate high. Better than any roller coaster. I found landing fascinating. You need to contact the tower in order to land so you don’t smash into other planes. The tower will clear you. Then you slow the plane to about eighty knots. On the side of the airport runway there is a system of lights called the visual slope indicator. The first set is white, the second red. Two white lights mean the aircraft is too high. When both sets are red, the plane is too low. I will recite the aviation poem I remember: “White over white, you’re high as a kite, you’ll fly all night. Red over white, you’re all right. Red over red, you’re dead.”
Brad, my baby, and I loved our flying lessons. Unfortunately, before I got my flying time in, Brad fell in love and he moved to the mainland. My pilot days were over because we couldn’t afford to pay for the flight instruction. Bummer.