In Memoriam
James Hamilton "Kimo"Tabor II
Kimo Tabor
Kimo Tabor
1963 graduation
from the Honolulu Star-Advertiser
James Hamilton "Kimo" Tabor II, 74, of Waimea, Hawaii, a retired accountant and management consultant and an Army veteran, died February 3, 2016 in Kona Community Hospital.
He was born in Honolulu, Hawaii.
He is survived by sons Joshua and Britton, daughter Sloane Perroots, sister Lisa Davis and six grandchildren. Private services will be held. In lieu of flowers, donations are suggested to St. James Episcopal Church, 65-1237 Kawaihae Road, Kamuela, HI 96743.
from Jon Larson:
Auwe! We have lost another true "Son of Hawaii". This one cuts close. We were both born "pre-Pearl Harbor" and grew up together in the tropical paradise of the Hawaiian Islands in the '50's dominated by rural agriculture (sugar and pineapple), tourism, the U.S. Military, with statehood yet to come in 1959, the year we graduated. These were great years for our country as well. All in all a good time to grow up. The economy was growing, we were not at war, middle class America was growing and saving, and only Sputnik came along to cloud our day. The "greening of America" and the social unrest and conflict of the '60's and the 'Nam war were still ahead of us. Punahou School, sports, girls, hot-rods and surfing occupied most of our time in the 50's growing up in Hawaii, as Twain in 1866 wrote “The loveliest fleet of islands that lies anchored in any ocean.” These were idyllic times for Kimo and myself and our Punahou friends, most certain never to be repeated.
At Punahou we were best friends where our only conflict was competing for the affections of Mary Kaye Jeffries, (Kimo won out eventually). I knew his mother and father well. I kept close to Kimo over the years via email after our years together at Yale, through his service in Vietnam, his family and career in Honolulu for many years, and his relocation to the Big Island in Waimea. Kimo was a very deep thinker. He marched to an internal drummer, different from many of us, whether 'Nam conflicts where he served us well, or other, I don't know. A real gentleman and a very gentle soul. I never once heard him raise his voice in anger. I am saddened at this news which cuts closer to the bone than my self- protection cushion finds comfortable. Reminds me at 74 of my own vulnerability. I have posted his passing sadly on the growing In Memoriam section of our Punahou59 web site as well as here on our Y63 site.
Kimo's (too early) passing reminds us that each day we are here together truly is a gift. We have fewer of them available to us than we have already used up. Use them well.
At his request his remains have been spread high up the volcanoes of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea on the Big Island where he will enjoy the beautiful views and the gentle trade winds, forever.
Rest in peace Kimo. We miss you already. The world seems a little smaller here without you.
from Kimo's Punahou friends in Hawaii....
Aloha Kimo,
From all of us who will join you some day...
May the memories of our good times together with you at Punahou remind us to give thanks for all that we have. And may our fond memories of you remind us to reassure our loved ones (every day of our lives while we are here together with them) that we love and enjoy and need them very much. These are your special gifts to us.
And may our tears in memory of you be like gentle rain that feeds and softens the desert places in our souls so we will continue to bloom and grow beautiful things for all the world to see, for as long as we are here, and forever thereafter.
Kuu Milimili <- click here to play our Aloha 'Oe 1959 graduation music
Me kealoha pumehana,
Your many friends at Punahou
from Tom Chun:
Kimo and I met and became friends in a world that no longer exists. Hawaii in the 1950’s was often described as a “racial paradise” of peace and harmony, but this was a myth to bolster the tourist industry. Although Hawaii's population was predominantly non-European, Punahou School (where Kimo and I met) was majority European, with hundreds of children of Caucasian military officers temporarily stationed in Hawaii bused to the school from military housing to maintain the desired racial makeup. Restrictive covenants barred Asians from living in certain Honolulu neighborhoods. Private clubs excluded Asians from membership; it was front page news when the Pacific Club admitted Asians in 1968 (and some members quit in protest). The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was not yet law, so Asians were not hired for senior positions by major companies or leading law firms (other than those they founded themselves). Many businesses were still controlled by descendants of Congregational missionaries from Yale who had settled in Hawaii in the 19th century, http://archives.yalealumnimagazine.com/issues/2004_07/old_yale.html. As the old saying goes, “the missionaries came to Hawaii to do good, and they ended up doing well."In this world, Kimo was a prince of the realm. His father was president of one of the legendary “Big Five” companies that controlled the sugar industry under the Kingdom of Hawaii and then dominated the Hawaiian economy through the mid-20th century and statehood. By contrast, I was essentially a nobody. Nevertheless, despite our sharply different backgrounds, we became friends at Punahou. We both joined the Fence Club at Yale, where our friendship became even stronger. After graduation, Kimo served in Vietnam, where I recall he was wounded and exposed to Agent Orange; I suspect his wounds were not all physical. In any event, he used to visit me from time to time in San Francisco on his way to Singapore or elsewhere. Eventually, our face-to-face meetings became less frequent, particularly after he took up residence on the Big Island. My last contact was through email correspondence regarding our 50th Yale Reunion, when Charlie Dilks had arranged a Fence Club reception at Mory’s. Kimo did not make it, and my regret at not seeing my lifelong friend one more time is painful.
from John Derby:
My best memories were during the summer of 1962 between our Junior and Senior years, Kimo and I went to Europe together. We flew to Paris and took a train to Munich where we picked up a brand new Volkswagen. The game plan was to travel to the major cities where our dads would send us money to pick up at American Express. Our m. o. was to follow “Europe on Five Dollars a Day”; after dinner we’d park the car around the corner from a youth hostel and walk in with our sleeping bags to spend the night and have a cheap breakfast. We usually managed to communicate in English along the way. Kimo had Spanish at Punahou and I had French at Hotchkiss but Kimo was learning Chinese at Yale and I was learning Japanese. We did find Chinese and Japanese hitchhikers along the way to practice speaking with.
In the ensuing three months we managed to put over 17,000 miles on the odometer as we drove to Salzburg and Vienna, down through the Italian Alps to Assisi, Florence, and Rome; further south along the coast to Amalfi where we looked up our Yale York Street barber, Luigi Sacco. There are more Amalfians in New Haven than there are in Amalfi. We then headed north along the Italian and French Rivieras and were at Avignon by Bastille Day. We skipped Spain and Portugal but did see a real bull fight in Lunel in Southern France. From there we drove up to Switzerland and then into Germany again. The autobahn brought us to Berlin and we took a bus through checkpoint Charlie into communist East Berlin. After Frankfort we went through Copenhagen Denmark over to Sweden and up to Norway. Coming back through Belgium and Luxembourg we were low on cash and had just enough to ship the Volks across the English channel where we had another money drop. We went to a brewery tour, ate cheese and crackers with lots of beer and managed to stay a night with the tour guide. After London and up to Edenborough, we shipped the car back to the USA at leHavre and flew home.
Kimo made it back from Viet Nam in time for our wedding in August 1965 (or maybe he was on leave). He was married after that to Jackie and I was the godfather for one of their two sons. Kimo joined Haskins & Sells and struggled to get his CPA. He would come into the Waialae-Kahala Branch once in a while to talk story and would say that he was working on some top secret multi-million dollar transaction that never worked out. We didn’t have much contact after that when he was divorced, was taking care of his ailing father and moved to the Big Island.
Aloha Kimo...
from Paul Dahlquist:
I knew Kimo had died. I heard he was in the hospital and then the next day, before I could get to the hospital, I was told he had passed away. Very sad. Kimo had a marvelous mind, but Vietnam and who knows what else sidetracked that mind into some parallel universe at times. Unfortunately, I haven’t seem Kimo for some time, though I used to see him regularly. He would also drop into the Gallery of Great Things where Charlene works and say hi to her, but those visits stopped a while ago as well. Very sad. Kimo and I were good friends at HPA and I stayed with him at his folks’ place on Tantalus a number of times. Every time I go by it on my motorcycle I remember then fun we had…I graduated from HPA in ’59 after he left in his Sophomore (I think) year. We lost touch with each other at Yale, and never really reconnected. I remember him at HEA/HPA as a body builder, a quiet guy, but a good friend.