Informant: Male/age 63 years/ Caucasian-Hawaiian ancestry
Location:
In my family, there is an old family tale that if you ever smell pikake when there are no flowers to be seen, it means someone who has "passed" is in your presence. After my Dad passed, my Mom claimed she used to get the pikake scent all the time in our house at
Curiously, on my last visit to
I then wished the couple well and, with chicken skin in full eruption, I left without telling them that my Dad, who passed away in the house, was an expert ukulele player nor did I mention our black dog, Ele'ele. I later realized that their ukulele and dog experiences probably ceased about the same time that my Mom passed away. I'm hoping they all found one another in the hereafter.
In 1993 I moved from
After one initial tour of the house, I was very impressed and definitely interested in it. I then decided to go back upstairs to take another look at the bedrooms while my friend and realtor chatted out by the pool. As I got to the top of the stairs, an elderly Asian woman walked past me down the hall. As she passed, she glanced at me, expressionless, and said nothing. Startled, I immediately apologized for intruding, explained that I had thought no one was home, turned around, and began quickly going back down the stairs.
When I got outside, I told my realtor that someone was home because an old lady had just scared the crap out of me upstairs. The realtor swore no one was home and called the listing agent who confirmed that a young couple lived in the house and they were both at work. As she was talking on the phone, we all noticed a strong sent of jasmine (pikake). I looked around and saw no indication of blooming jasmine. It was then that I remembered our old family tale.
At that, I said, "Let's get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Just as I said this, we heard a loud bang like a door slamming upstairs and we immediately raced one another for the front door. As we darted through the living room I took a closer look at a large portrait of an elderly Asian woman that was hanging on the wall above the fireplace. It was the lady I had seen upstairs!
When we got back to our cars, I told the realtor about the picture of the lady and I insisted that my realtor find out who she was. The listing agent reported that the picture was that of the owner's Mother who had passed away several years ago. Needless to say, I did not make an offer on the house!



