Story 2022

Often times when one is in the presence of a master, what they impart to you is secondary to the mana they impart with the lesson.

I remember it was a Saturday, and I arrived a half-hour before the old Ghosthunters Bus Tour began. We exchanged small talk, and then he told me about a case he'd come across. A friend said to him that there seemed to be a disturbance as of late along the sixteenth avenue bridge in Kaimuki. A little local Japanese girl would suddenly appear alongside people on an evening walk crossing the bridge from mauka to makai and vice versa. She would hold their hands and ask them to help her get home. When asked where the little girl's home might be, she would point toward a random location, and as they crossed the end of the overpass, she would suddenly vanish. This was the first time I'd heard about the 16th avenue bridge. I was fascinated, to say the least, but Glen encouraged me to start taking the bus to the location and share the story there. Later on, that same tale would appear in my first book, Haunted Hawaiian Nights. The story itself is a trifle short, but at that moment, while standing there, listening and watching as Glen painted images with his words, I was transported as if I were the one walking across the bridge late at night and suddenly feeling the sensation of a cold little hand lace its fingers into mine. Chicken skin went up to my spine, and the hackles stood up on the back of my neck. I could only hear and see Glen in that busy little store on South King Street, with dozens of people talking among themselves. It was not the story that struck me, it was the magic he conjured to make that story come alive if only for a mere second or two. That's the legacy I try to keep alive until the time comes to pass it on.