Center for Labor Education & Research, University of Hawaii - West Oahu: Honolulu Record Digitization Project
Honolulu Record, Volume 10 No. 7, Thursday, September 12, 1957 p. 7
Love in the Afternoon
Mrs. Walter Dillingham Takes In "Samurai," Academy Winner Sweltering heat. Remember?
The time: 4:30 p.m.
The day: Saturday, Sept. 7.
The place: the entrance lobby of the Palace Theater at Beretania and Keeaumoku Sts. We'd taken in the second session of SAMURAI, the Japanese movie in Eastman Color which has won so many awards.
She Looked Chic
"We were leaving the theater when we spotted "Walter F. Dillingham, local tycoon, eyeing the displays of coming attractions and the elite usherettes in their form-fitting white suits. He took in everything.
He wore an Ivy League narrow-brimmed, soft felt hat. He chewed gum. He stood behind the ticket booth, and through its door, open-ed because of the heat, he watched the girl rapidly make change. The coins jingled, the ticket machine whirred.
His was an interesting presence What was he doing alone in the lobby?
Just then came the answer The session ended and the crowd poured out into the blaze of afternoon sunshine.
Walter turned expectantly, lifted his bat, and strode to greet Mrs. Dillingham who'd seen the show alone. She separated from the emerging popcorn set. The stub of her 75 cent general admission ticket fluttered to the floor.
She wore a pastel summery dress, light and airy. Her hair was trimmed and done in a nest of curls. She wore a web-like, brimless tiny hat. She looked chic. "BEAUTIFUL"' Walter asked 'How was it? She said excitedly "Beautiful Just beautiful."
Walter was gallant and attentive the way women like their men. She held his proffered arm and together they left the lobby He cocked his head to hear her words.
They turned left around the corner into Keeaumoku. There was their dark green Cadillac, license plate A-3288 It was in a "No Parking" zone. There wasn't a cop in sight.
A chauffeur, with the cuffs of his white, tie-less shirt folded back beyond his wrists, greeted the Dillinghams with a smile and held open the rear door. They said "thank you" and stooped and entered.
The chauffeur got in on the curb side and slid across the front seat to behind the wheel He pressed the starter. The engine responded.
Chatted Like Co-Ed
They waited. The traffic lights, turned green. The Cadillac glided away, made a perfect curve in its swing left up Beretania toward Sears on its way to La Pietra, the Dillingham mansion on the slope of Diamond Head.
Through the rear window we saw Mrs. Dillingham smiling up at Walter and chatting like a co-ed Perhaps they held hands.
On foot, we crossed Beretania and headed toward a King St. bus. The park by the banyan tree was a welcome eddy of shade and quiet A care-free couple came arm-in-arm and settled in the shade of a large tree They were what we call local folks. They peeled off their shoes, local style, and wriggled their toes and laughed outright.
The man looked like a longshoreman His shoulders and arms were balls of muscle His feet and hands were like hams.
The woman sat and leaned against the tree The man stretched out on the cool ground and rested his head in her lap. It was good to relax.
He closed his eyes She combed his hair with her finger tips, tune and again, like a massage He was pooped. She was oblivious to the traffic and) the passers-by She smiled down at him like a mother Soon he was asleep.
When she was sure that he was, she reached into her bag for a paper-back book She sat still as a mouse, reading.
Our bus came. Its entrance door slammed open and shut The diesel engine boiled and with a blast it moved the bus on its way.
We glanced back at the man and woman. He still slept flat on his back his wide feet bared to the faint breeze The woman continued to caress his hair with one hand and with the other hold open the book.
We wondered if the man works somewhere in one of Walter Dillingham's enterprises.
After all there are more real coincidences in fact than in fiction.
WSH
It is only common humanity to feed the hungry. If our hospitals are too big, too complex, too impersonal to do these small kindnesses for the sick, something is very wrong.