The thunder of 100 motorcycles growling to be set free has always meant a lot to Donna Hepa.
But this year, the Toys for Keiki drive took on special meaning as she joined her mother, Eloise Oclit, in leading the prayer Sunday in Lihu’e before the motorcyclists took off for a day-long, islandwide ride for their cause.
Hepa said that at this time last year, her mom was undergoing treatment for cancer, and doctors weren’t sure she was going to make it through.
During one of her visits with her mom, Hepa said, “she prayed that if she should make it through the treatment, she vowed to do more good things. She would help her daughter and do whatever she could to help others.”
Oclit, a shy woman who sought refuge under a lauhala hat, was quietly led to the front of the black-leather-jacketed motorcyclists to give thanks for the opportunity to help make others’ lives a little better.
Hepa, in charge of the toy collection at the eighth annual Toys for Keiki campaign Sunday morning, said she was up early cooking for the gathering.
“We have no breaks until Christmas,” Hepa said. “We gift wrap at Borders, today we have the ride, and then it’s back to more gift-wrapping. It’s all for the kids.”
Hepa, who’s active with the Kaua’i Food Bank, explained that this year’s collection will be earmarked for the clients of the food bank, churches and other local charities so they can take care of children who otherwise might not have anything for Christmas.
“Last year, the target group was the Queen Liliuokalani Children’s Center,” Hepa explained.
The rumble and growls of a hundred motorcycles queued behind Santa interrupted Hepa as the caravan roared to life at Historic County Building.
Stops were planned for the riders to patronize businesses that could use the extra traffic, said Russell Haluapo, one of the event coordinators.
Santa gingerly picked his way onto Rice Street past a group of spectators who stopped by the sidewalk fronting Kaua’i Museum to wave their blessings on the caravan that wound down Haleko Road.
As the last of the motorcycles disappeared in the morning sun, Hepa turned to her crew, wiping a tear from her eye.
“This was supposed to be my year to ride,” Hepa said. “But my father sold the bike. He couldn’t keep up with it any more.
“But this is still so special”.
Staff photographer Dennis Fujimoto can be reached at 245-3681 (ext. 253) and mailto:dfujimoto@pulitzer.net
