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People we remember
Biographies are where we share about family & friends to connect with others who remember them.
Photo of Pam Marks Pam Marks: Ever the student, Frank was always thirsty for knowledge. He would look at anything - physical or situational - and figure out how it works, and what could be done better. He saw a future of where things were headed having been involved with the first concepts of credit cards, to using steel instead of wood for home building. He lied about his age to join the Navy in World War 2 (See Frank Kroetch: Military Service for more details.) and lost hearing in one ear because he was a "spotter" for the guns on the USS Killen. (Another note from Kathy: I remember he was a spotter on the big guns - the Killen was a destroyer - because of a story he told. The US had just developed a plane that looked a LOT like the Japanese planes. So when he saw the new US plane above them, he told them to move the gun to hit the plane. He narrowly realized that it was our plane and had them move the gun just in time. He was almost responsible for shooting down one of our own - and he was embarrassed by that.) A few years after the war he married Marian Joyce (Benning) Kroetch (from 1949 through July 1968) and they had and raised two daughters Kathleen Rae (Kroetch) Pinna and Pam (Kroetch) Marks in San Jose (Willow Glen), Cupertino California (where he was a councilman), Seattle, Washington (the University District) and Saratoga CA. In 1965, Frank met Carol Antonsen Kroetch who had a 5 year old child, John Hugh Kroetch. He and Carol married in December of 1968 and they were married until his death in 2001. He had two families for some time - one living in Saratoga CA and the other in Carmel, CA (although the only legal family until 1968 was the Saratoga family) He lived in Washington state for the last three decades of his life and travelled to California frequently to be with his daughters and grandchildren and to pursue business deals. He was the patriarch of his family and passed away suddenly sitting in his chair. (Note from Kathy: I was never told the actual events by Carol. What I 'heard" secondhand: Dad had driven from Bellingham (in the northern end of Washington state) to Olympia (the southern end of Washington state) that day. He had been feeling ill for some time. When he got home, he had eaten dinner and after dinner, he sat in "his" chair. He then asked Carol for a cookie. She went to the kitchen and returned with the cookie - and Dad had already suffered a cardiac event. Carol called emergency services but they were unable to revive him. Several hours later, I received a telephone call from a man who identified himself as the fire captain for Bellingham. He told me that Dad had died but declined to give me any details. I never heard more than that.
Stephen Sardi:
Paul's Storyboard: 'DDT' - If you've read my previous stories, you'll know that Paul was very creative -- during the years 1974 to 1977 he seemed to be bursting at the seams with ideas. Whether it was calligraphy, sculpting, painting, or drawing, he always had something going on. In high school, Paul came up with the idea for a character he named Dexter Dylan Trifle. Where he got this from, I have no idea, but Dexter (or DDT as he called him) was a friendly space alien who arrived on earth via his one-man tiny spaceship. As it turned out, DDT spoke perfect English, and so did the animals in the barnyard where he landed. They became fast friends. There were about 6 stories, conveyed via pictures and content that Paul hand-drew on paperboard. After their initial meeting, the animals did their best to help DDT get his spaceship back into space -- but with limited resources and knowledge, all their efforts were for nothing. DDT appreciated their help, and by the 6th story, the animals told DDT that they had helped as much as they could -- but they liked DDT and were glad to have him stranded in their home. During senior year of high school, Paul showed these panels to his German teacher. As a final project for the class, Frau Schmidt asked him to translate DDT's adventures into German, which Paul did. It was humorous to read the stories in German, and Frau Schmidt kept them as a momento of his time in her class. Five years later, I saw Frau Schmidt at Paul's wake -- she was distraught, but she told me that she still had Paul's translated DDT storyboards, and would always treasure them. It would have been interesting to see where Paul would have taken DDT's further adventures. Would DDT have gotten home -- or would he have stayed with the friendly farm animals who had tried to help him, but then welcomed him to stay when it didn't work out? I'm sure whatever DDT's future held, Paul would had made it exciting and fun.
Stephen Sardi:
"Over the past 40 years, I've considered that my brother did not live long enough to have ever been 'the best' at anything. He was never on a championship team, never won a chess tournament, never received the top prize in an art exhibition. But -- he was best at something during his grammar school years. At Lenox Avenue School, when Paul was in 5th grade (1968-1969), there was a 6th grade teacher named Ms. Jenkins. She was tough -- tough with the kids, and a tough teacher. Both Paul and I were desperately worried about getting her in 6th grade. When the time came -- Paul got her as a teacher. Since he went first in everything among us brothers, he would find out first-hand what it was like to be taught by this imposing lady. One of her assignments was to select a country -- about one a month -- for the students to report on. There was an outline to follow, but no real 'quality' requirement -- that was entirely up to the student. Since my brother was an artist, a really good one, he not only completed the report with great content, but also -- for each one -- created a cover made of slightly-yellow oaktag paper. He would hand-draw a representative cover picture for the country in the report. When assigned the Soviet Union, Paul drew a gorgeous picture of the St. Basil's church, showing the unique spires. He also showed the buildings that make up the Kremlin -- but nearby, he had written, in his great calligraphy, 'The City of Kremlin'. Unfortunately, this is not accurate --it is simply called 'The Kremlin'. But Ms. Jenkins not only gave the report an A+ (as all of his eventually received), but she didn't want to mark-up his report by actually writing the grade on the cover. She inserted a piece of paper behind the cover with the grade, and the correction. It turns out Ms. Jenkins was not mean -- she just wanted and respected quality efforts. She saw in Paul what she wanted from her students. Paul did this not because he was directed to -- but simply because it was his way. He had the talent and he used it. These must have meant something, even to my mother -- her famous line being 'What do you want -- a medal?" to remind us that our accomplishments weren't really all that good and undeserving of her pride in us. But -- we found that she saved all of the reports anyway, so maybe even she was impressed. After my brother died, my mother called Ms. Jenkins and told her what happened. Ms. Jenkins told her that Paul "was the best student she ever had." That was Ms. Jenkins' last year teaching -- she retired the following year, so I never experienced her as a teacher myself. Thanks to my brother, I would have known what to expect -- just do your best, and somebody out there will respect your effort and maybe even give you praise for a job well done. To this day, that lesson has stayed with me. He was worried, but ultimately he benefited from his relationship with her. I don't know where any of those beautiful reports are these days -- my parents are both gone, and likely the reports are as well. Many years ago, I used to look at them in awe at the quality of talent they contained. After Paul died, the things in life he valued were buried with him, and everything else was given away. I do have his chess set to remind me of the endless days when that was (pretty much) the only thing we had to keep us entertained. I miss those days and sometimes think about the effect of his 6th grade lesson in my life."
Amanda Marcolongo:
How could you not? - Michael Barbus was the heart of Wildwood NJ. You could tell when Mike was around because everyone in the room was smiling. Everyone in the room was laughing. Nobody was in a bad mood. It was impossible. Mike didn't have much because he didn't need much of anything. Just his friends, a place to sleep and his brother Shane. His best friend Jim. His mom and a beer. He had the best jokes. I was his girlfriend. He loved to put his arm around my shoulder and make sure everyone knew I was his, he would show me off. He was proud to have me under his arm. He made me feel special and pretty and better then anyone in my entire life had ever made me feel up until that point in my life. I immediately fell in love with him. He showed me a side of Wildwood I didn't know existed. Where the "locals" lived, off the boardwalk. The neighborhood kids loved him. There were all these "gangs" in Wildwood. Bloods and Crypts. I had no idea there were gangs in Wildwood. Apparently, bandana's are called "flags". Blue ones and red ones. I grew up in Philadelphia and didn't know this. So he started a "dodge ball gang" with all the kids in the neighborhood that were being recruited to join the "gangs". They thought they had to. So mike started a dodge ball gang instead. He bought a bunch of black bandanas and recruited them to join his gang. They all started wearing black bandanas and called him Mr. Mike. When he started bringing me around, they started calling me Mrs. Mandi, and we all played dodgeball together in the "streets of Wildwood" off the boardwalk late at night LOL Real tough gang we were... we ran the streets.... Losing Mike was a tragedy. For the entire island. It was like the ferris wheel was never going to light up again. The waves stopped crashing. The ocean just swollowed up the island and it drowned. It sunk. Then, I met his brother Shane. And all the lights turned back on again... and the Island came back to life. I knew that I could never replace his brother Mike. But I told Shane that if I let me, I promised I would a sister to him, it was the least that I could do. I am so thankful that he gave me that opportunity. And since then, Mike has blessed me with his brother Shane, and I have been living with Mikes angel since his death, his brother Shane. And our families have been enjoying each other ever since. My daughter Brianna has an Uncle Shane. What she doesnt know, is that is actually her Angel Mike, that she never met, from 5 year before her birth, in 2008. RIP Mike Barbus xoxo
Suma Fiame:
My name Suma Fiame. My oldest sister Sina was married to Pono and their son Wallace Kahuhu. I moved in with them when i was in Elementary from American Samoa. We were living in Waianae at Pokai Bay apartments 4th floor facing the beach side. I attended Waianae intermediate school and graduated there. Pono played a special role in my life as a father. He was a great father, hard working and loves to get together with his siblings and Ohana. He loves my sister Sina so much and their baby son Wallace. Pono worked at Parks and recreation. After work he would love to take us at the beach and hangout and play his ukulele, holoholo with friends too. Pono's Mom & Dad were still alive at the time. They live right next to Waianae elementary school. We would also go by and see Grandma & Grandpa and sometimes meet with Auntie's and cousins there. We later moved to Nanakuli after a horrible Hurricane Eva with Auntie D.D for a short time. Auntie D.D worked at Paradise Cove were they film Magnum P.I. We later moved to Makaha in the back of Cornetts shopping center across from Makaha Beach. We raised a pig named Suka and a dog named Rocky. Every time we go to town either we take my sisters Old skool Cadillac or Pop's 4 door flatbed six wheeler with rails and hydraulic liftgate we would always take our Suka and Rocky with us. They love sitting next to the windows. We visited my Unko Pili and family down town and Auntie Surita & Unko Peter Bartley and cousins in Kalihi Valley. I later moved to Kalihi and attended Dole intermediate for a short time and back to Waianae.. Aunty Surita & family decided to move with us to Waianae. We left Makaha to Waianae Valley at Pop's family land with our Bartley family and raised our Pets... Rabbits and bigs there.
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