HANNAH HEALANI CHENOWETH, OF WAIALUA:

My April Fools' story takes place where we grew up. I came from a family of 13 children. Today, at 83, I am the only survivor of my brothers and sisters.

We all grew up in Papakolea. Our view would take your breath away. We lived on the hill overlooking Pauoa Valley, Pacific Heights, Punchbowl, the city of Honolulu, and far off, the Ka'ala mountains.

At the foot of the hill is the Chinese cemetery where we learned some of the culture of the Chinese people. The (telephone) pole in the story is located on 'Auwaiolimu Drive. We used a dirt trail to go up and down the hill. It is easy to run down the hill, but getting home was always a good climb.

My story, therefore, is in memory of (my brother) Harry, and my brother-in-law Edmund:

It was Tuesday, April 1, 1947, when my brother Harry fell for one of the funniest April Fools' pranks. Harry was 32 years old and he always considered himself a very smart guy. He was also near-sighted. It was April Fools' Day when, in the evening, the phone rang. It just so happened that it was Harry who answered the phone. It was someone from the telephone company. He told Harry he needed some help. It seemed that the people who lived down the hill from us were having trouble with their telephone line. He asked Harry if he could run down the hill to get the serial number on the telephone pole for him. Harry, with all his energy, replied, "Hold on, I will be right back."

So there goes Harry, running down the hill with his flashlight. Near-sighted, he looked for the serial number and saw no number! He runs back up the hill and tells the man on the phone that he could not find the number. The man apologized and told Harry that he forgot to tell him that the serial number was on the top of the pole where all the connections were. So again, Harry responded, "Hold on, I will be right back." Now all this took some time, and the caller is still on the line. Harry runs down the hill, climbs the pole, looked and looked for the number. Again, saw no number! So about this time, Harry is frustrated. Down the pole he flies, runs back up the hill, picks up the phone and said, "I cannot find the number. In fact, I think there was NO number."

A big sound of laughter and a shout of, "April Fools' Day!" stunned Harry. Ooh, I wish you could have been there to hear the "BLAST OFF!" It was not funny for Harry; he was furious. But for the rest of the family, it was hilarious.

My brother-in-law Ed was brave to pull this stunt on Harry even if he knew what the outcome would be. He actually deserves an Oscar for his role. As for the family, any one of us could have picked up the phone. Lucky for us, it was Harry. All of us believed that it was someone from the telephone company. Harry in the meantime was in a state of shock for days. Never in his life did he ever think that someone would actually make a fool of him.

TERENCE HOSHINO, OF MO'ILI'ILI:

The set-up: I'm local, Japanese and in my late 30s. The resident manager — Mike, from Indiana — has a daughter — Sandy, in her late 20s — who's coming to visit and is going to stay in the apartment of an elderly part-time resident who lives in Japan most of the year. The apartment is a one bedroom condo in the building I live in and that Mike manages. The owner often allows Mike to house his family on visits in exchange for checking the lights, running the water periodically when he's out of town, etc. Meanwhile, Mike wants to get back at Sandy for a joke she played on him earlier.

The scenario: I get home from work around 5:30 p.m. and stop by to say hi to Mike in his office on the ground floor. Sandy is at the pool on the third floor.

The prank: I go up to the pool deck. Sandy's laying on a pool chair reading a book. There's another resident in the pool, Ryland, so before he can say, 'Hi, howzit going, Terry?' I launch into my best Japanese accent tirade: "Are you building manaja?! Building manaja?" Looking confused, but somehow knowing what's going on because he's also good friends with Mike and Sandy, Ryland says, "No, he's on the ground floor in his office."

So I rant on: "I come to stay grandfaddah's apatment, he say stay in apatment, but somebody's tings in apatment!!"

As if on cue, Ryland goes, "Oh, wow, what unit is this?"

"Ahh ... 704 apatment numba," I reply. Of course, 704 is the unit Sandy is in.

Without saying a word, Sandy calmly gathers up her stuff and heads back into the building, and presses up on the elevator.

As soon as the doors close, I head back down to the office, where, sure enough, Mike is already on the phone with Sandy. She's going on about how some Japanese guy came out to the pool deck freaking about some stuff in his grandfather's apartment.

So in his most calm fatherly voice Mike says, "Don't worry, we'll get this all fixed. Why don't you come down to the office and we'll sort it out."

Needless to say, Mike and I are already busting out laughing. But it gets better.

Sandy gets down to the office and has a seat. I'm still standing next to Mike's desk, trying to look agitated, yet apologetic. Mike introduces me as Mr. Suzuki's grandson, who's supposed to stay in the unit she's in. After apologizing to all (convincingly), Mike says he must've made a mistake on the dates, and we'll have to figure something out. Meanwhile, I'm bowing like a madman saying, "I do not want to cause problem. ... I'm so sorry, but my grandfaddah say stay apatment."

Just by the look of confusion on her face, you could tell Sandy was buying into this big time. So then Mike goes, "How about if both of you stay in the apartment?" The look on Sandy's face got even more astonished, and it was just priceless (as the current cliche goes). So again, I go into the, "don't want to cause problem" thing.

So anyway, after a little more between Mike and I, Mike tells Sandy "Honey, I'd like you to meet the treasurer of our board, Terence." And in my most polite English I tell her, "Hi Sandy, I'm Terence. It's nice to meet you," and extend a handshake instead of a bow to her.

I don't think I've ever seen someone turn sooooo red, and you could tell by the look on her face that she had totally been had. She shook my hand, and we've all laughed about that one for years, including Sandy.

MIKE TYMN, OF KAILUA:

Some time between 1988 and 1992, when I was writing a regular column on running for the Advertiser, I wrote a column (with the approval of the sports editor) about a phenomenal runner from Papua New Guinea who had stopped over in Hawai'i on his way to Boston for the Boston Marathon. His name was Iplar Lofo (anagram for April Fool). He had been discovered in the bush by an Australian trader, John Clarke, who had now become his coach and manager. Clarke had decided to enter "Ip" in the annual Norman Tamanaha 15K in Honolulu that weekend.

I reported that Ip's manager took him to the McKinley High School track for a workout and that, while running barefoot, he easily broke 4 minutes for a mile. Neither Clarke nor Ip knew anything about running and Ip had no running attire. He ran around the McKinley track in his street clothes, which included pants too long for him and a belt that dangled. While he was running the mile, he tripped on his pant cuffs and fell flat on his face. He also stopped after the first of four laps as he didn't understand how many times he had to go around. Were it not for the fall and the stop, he would have easily broken the world record in the mile.

Quite a few runners were looking for Ip at the start of the Tamanaha race, and some of the best runners very anxious about the competition, but Ip apparently slept in that morning.

TERRY VISPERAS, OF HONOLULU:

Hope this story helps those guys still on the bubble about asking their girlfriends' parents' permission to marry their daughters. Here is a worthy idea that worked for us and helped to jump start our life together!

As students in the graduate program of the School of Public Health at the University of Hawai'i, my girlfriend at the time, Tammie, and I really found our life's passion in our field of study through our work in community health on the Wai'anae Coast. Fortunate for us this passion in work also developed into our own personal chemistry and love and by 1999, we had talked seriously about getting married and our goal was January 2000.

There was only one problem. We both came from traditional households of respect and asking her parents to marry was a must and a huge deal for her and a possible crisis waiting to happen for me. I admit at the time I was scared! Her parents were very strict. Tammie had it easy, my family was excited for the opportunity. But Tammie's parents on the other hand were a different story. After all, they were not only her parents but the pastor of our church that we were attending. What if I asked and they would say 'no'? That could be a real possibility.

As mentioned earlier, our goal was January 2000, so I had to work fast. The plan seemed simple on paper. Get permission and start planning like crazy for our dream wedding. Lucky for me, this all happened in March 1999, so I had this great idea. I chose April 1 as the magical date to ask her parents for permission. In my mind the night would be spectacular. IF the answer was YES, they would see me as a great guy, providing a great relaxing evening out at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse with all the fixings. A gigantic sizzling steak, cauliflower and don't forget their humongous broccoli branches and awesome service. However, if the dreaded answer was NO, guess what — APRIL FOOLS! In my mind, it was a literally 'fool proof' opportunity.

Let's just say it worked! We have been married (seems like only yesterday) for eight years now and have a very talented 'miracle' son, Nainoa, who is now 5 years old.

Oh by the way, we have a family tradition: On April 1, we celebrate the night at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse!