DREAMHELPER

By Elizabeth Nakahara

Herb Holman encouraged the dreamer in me. I have been working more than two decades on a book that probably won't ever be published. But Herb never scolded me for inaction or ineptitude, like SOME people. In fact, he was over-the-top supportive when I told him about some guerrilla marketing I had tried.

I explained that my book was about photojournalists who are steadily losing ground to paparazzi. Because I haven't found a publisher, I was thinking of self-publishing and somehow finding financing. I told Herb that I had written to celebrities who have had famously rocky relations with paparazzi. I was hoping these celebrities might be especially open to financing a book about under-paid news photographers who have shunned the lucrative paparazzi route.

Of course, most of the celebrities ignored me. But Tom Selleck's publicist wrote me a very kind and supportive letter. I remember sitting in Deborah Lee's Nfusion Teahouse, and Herb exclaimed my idea was "brilliant." But obviously, it wasn't brilliant, because it went nowhere. Still, I deeply appreciated the fact Herb took me seriously, instantly validated my effort and didn't imply that I'm flaky or unrealistic. He never had any of the half-hearted platitudes or eye-rolling sarcasm of SOME people.

In addition, I remember attending a luncheon for WWII Nisei veterans, and the after-lunch entertainment was a comedienne doing a Second Hand Rose/Dippy Over-the-Hill Geisha routine. The mostly Nisei audience was a little slow on the uptake and barely responded. But Herb laughed so
boisterously that he more than made up for the rest of the subdued audience. I'm sure he was a lifesaver for many a performer.

I loved Herb's humor. He could always find the nugget of absurdity in a situation. He was great at witty repartee and one-liners. Even while in the hospital after surgery, when nurses drew blood from him for the umpteenth time, he joked that the doctor was a vampire.

I think we all need a Herb-like dreamhelper/court jester in our lives. I wish we still had him.

HUMOR

By Fairuz M. Abdullah

What I remember about Herb was his wonderful sense of humor and his infectious smile. Monty and I saw Audee and Herb at the Asian Law Caucus dinner in April 2005 two week after Monty and I got married. This was our first public function since our nuptials. We were so happy to be introducing each other for the first time as husband and wife. We saw Herb in the hallway, and he was telling us great stories of when he and Audee got married. He was so in love with her and I remember thinking I hope that Monty and I will have a strong and lasting love throughout the years just as Herb did for Audee.

ACCEPTANCE

By Ivy Lee

What I remember most about Herb was his complete openness and acceptance. Without going into the gory details, Victor and I went through a pretty rough time at the Caucus in 2001 when there was an immense amount of upheaval within the organization that involved the board, community folks, staff, alumni. There was a tidal wave of gossiping going around, even among people you always believe would never engage in malicious gossipmongering! At community events, banquets, meetings, rallies, we would bump into folks and there would be this awkward moment, you know the one I mean, when you realize that you've just interrupted the person speaking ill of you and he/she also realizes that you know exactly what they were doing...

But the first and every time after, I remember Herb coming straight up to me, giving me a hug and a warm smile. I especially remember the first time after the Caucus debacle going public and Herb's big 'ol chuckle, and succinctly saying: "So...been pretty busy huh?" No judgments, no gossiping, no malice, just emanating warmth and support. There are some people who can make you feel a little happier just for having been in their company for even a moment and I'm so glad I got to meet one of those people in Herb. My heart goes out to Audee and the whole family...

With much love,
Ivy

ENTHUSIASM

By Helen Chen (and Edwin too)

Herb always brought great enthusiasm and energy to everything whether he was analyzing historic trends in stock market prices (in his role as a financial planner) or bringing to life the labor struggles of a Philadelphia factory (in his role as a professor). In November 2005, Herb invited me to be a guest speaker at his class at San Jose State. I will never forget his booming, charismatic voice as he got the students all riled up about environmental justice and made the connections between the broader movement and the local work that we are doing on the ground. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to see him shine in the classroom¡K I could tell that he was in his element, pushing the students to think more critically about root causes of environmental problems.

I also remember that Herb liked to tease you, Audee, in good fun. A few years ago, the Caucus staff went down to L.A. for a NAPALC retreat and Herb joined us too. On the plane ride back, I sat down next to you and Herb. Herb said that I was welcome to join you but that he had a secret that I should know about you¡K I leaned forward in anticipation¡K Herb whispered, "Audee likes to read trashy gossip magazines!" and waved a copy of People magazine. Audee, you giggled and we hunkered down for the next hour poring over Best Dressed Lists and who was spotted where with whom.

I will miss Herb greatly, and I will remember him as someone who lived life to the fullest, gave his best to those around him, and infused a sense of social justice into everything he did.

PEACH PIE

By Joannie Chang

I think the first time I met Herb was at Yuri's place on 125th, most likely at a David Wong Support Committee meeting, potluck, and/or fundraiser. It was late summer, and I had baked a peach pie. Herb liked it so much, he told me I could stay with him in Oakland, California if I ever got out there, as long as I brought a peach pie when I came!

Years later, after I moved out to California in 1996, I did end up at Audee and Herb's, and even though I didn't have a peach pie, he and Audee still warmly welcomed me into their home. I'm not sure if Herb still remembered my peach pie, but he was always warm and jolly and always quick with both a joke and laugh every time I saw him, the first time and each time thereafter I ended up feasting at 7554 Valentine. I will always remember his very gentlemanly compliments on my attire at fundraising events and his flattering request to have a photo together. Oddly, I can't find any photos of us in my own albums, so someday, I want to get copies of all those pictures that he has of us at the Asian Law Caucus, APEN, Kearny Street, and other events!

I still hear Herb's hearty laugh, and it doesn't matter to me whether the joke was his, or whether it was funny ¡V it was always such fun to hear his joyful chuckles!

I will always remember Herb for his warmth and the love he expressed through his cooking -- I still remember how, despite my assurances that I didn't need any gravy on my turkey when Luna and I arrived late to Thanksgiving leftovers this year, Herb went ahead and heated it up anyway, and how it made everything that much more tasty. I treasure the last time he and Audee and I shared Magnolia cupcakes, chatted about life, and laughed about friends and family -- it meant so much to me that I could cook for him and express my love and care.

I regret that I didn't get to make cupcakes for Herb again, but I know that every time I make them from now on, I'll think of him.

APRON

By Patty Hirota-Cohen

My memory of Herb is in an apron! In the Kitchen. More than anyone I know, Herb loved to entertain and feed people! What a flair he had for making dishes that taste and look good, and of making people feel at home in his home. I have asked him for many recipes and he always accommodated, willing to share his treasured secrets. For example, roasted asparagus with slivered almonds. He also introduced me to Brianna Raspberry vinaigrette as a marinade. I felt so honored whenever he and Audee came to my annual birthday party in September and would hang out in the kitchen of Chiori’s house. Finally we could serve him!

A memory of Herb out of the house
.In J-Town, at the Japanese American Historical Society, Herb had accompanied Yuri for her Book Signing and Q&A. I don’t believe Audee was there that time. As Herb stood to the side, and videotaped portions of the event, I couldn’t help but reflect on what an incredibly supportive and compassionate son in law he was!

SALESMAN

In Memorium - Herb Holman, Jr.

By Chiori Santiago

I met Herb around 1973 when I was a student at UC Berkeley. I had a little cash saved from my part-time job and wanted one of those new stereo component systems. Pacific Stereo was blasting ads for good deals aimed at the student market, so I marched down there one Saturday intending to look around. I was greeted by an energetic, fast-talking, congenial salesman who proceeded to show me around almost the entire store while offering an encyclopedic stream of facts about the various systems.

He had a manner that could convince a man stranded in the desert to buy sand, but I also sensed this guy wasn’t an average fast-talking salesman; he seemed genuine. Sure, he wanted to make a sale, because that was his job and he was good at it, but he also wanted to see his student-budget customers happy, because he cared about people. That was Herb. I went home with a Magnavox amplifier, a turntable and two giant wood-encased speakers that, for years, doubled as end tables. I did get my money’s worth; my older son is still using that old Magnavox.

After awhile, I started seeing Herb at various community functions. Hey, you're the Pacific Stereo guy! I’d say, waving. As time passed I’d spot him across the room holding a baby, or two Herb always seemed to be surrounded by interesting people, and I eventually got to know him and Audee through mutual friends. Herb had so many mutual friends, and the friendships lasted at least as long as that Magnavox. He could tell a story that drew in a listener like a fly to a web; he was impassioned and funny, opinionated and entertaining all at once. Wherever he is, I imagine him at the center of a circle of admirers, some of whom he met five minutes ago, making them laugh until they wipe tears from their eyes, shaking their heads and smiling.

Remembering Herb :

from Bob Hsiang

I met Herb in the early eighties and instantly we came became friends after being introduced by Audee whom I had known since the early Asian American movement days in New York City. My first impression of Herb was that he was a 'brother', in context with the community and the political activist struggles that were going down in the 1970's and 1980's. I was amazed at how quick he was at everything. His mind seemed to be running faster than most people. Herb and I had a lot in common as we were both raised in New York City, he was from Harlem, Queens and I grew up on the other side of Central Park and Queens as well. We both ran track in high school - middle distance and cross country. The difference being that he won medals, I usually finished my races in the triple digits, far from the place finishers. Then there was the music. We both loved music and shared that bond throughout our friendship. He was always getting me some great CD collection that he knew I'd appreciate like the Miles Davis collection. Herb had an encyclopedic knowledge of R&B, it's history and lineage as it evolved from the 1950's through the hip hop movement. It was if music flowed though his veins. If you ever wondered about who sang lead vocal on a certain tune or when the Chi Lites came out with their first single, you asked Herb. Oh, another common thread was the fact that Herb and I both delivered Chinese food when we were young. We knew kitchens and the smell of egg rolls that permeates your clothes after work. How 'bout that, a brother who delivered take out! You can't get any more Asian American than that.

It didn't take long to figure out that Herb was a tireless volunteer. Community non profits were his calling as he helped fund raise and get the word out that you need to support this or that group. He sponsored tables for so many good causes and never boasted about it. It was Herb's mission to lend support where he could. Many times he invited us to share a table at the Asian Law Caucus, Sansei Live! or go to
Japanese American Day at the Coliseum.

Whenever I think of holidays, there are images of Herb cooking in the kitchen, multi tasking several dishes for his guests - delicious fried chicken, corn bread, macaroni and cheese, BBQ, homemade pies and offering select wines he and Audee had found in Napa. He was a one man restaurant and he loved having folks over to sample his culinary creativity. But more than the food was a sense of family and togetherness that was shared among us during Thanksgivings, Christmas and Fourth of July. If you couldn't go home for the holidays, you went to Herb and Audee's - it felt just like home.

Around 1989, Herb and Audee asked me to take a family portrait for their Christmas cards. This became a ritual that was done every year as you may have noticed. It was really fun to see the changes the family went through - Herbie seemed to grow exponentially after the age of 12. There were only two shoots where I was taller than him. Herb would always joke that he was still taller. That lasted until Herbie was in senior year of high school or so. One of my favorite years was when we shot at Pac Bell Park. We gained entrance to the stadium due to a party gate that was open. We shot photos overlooking the baseball diamond and in front of Willie Mays' bronze statue. This November - Thanksgiving, we gathered together to shoot the family image again, only Herb had asked that it be an extended family photograph. I know we all felt something very special and precious during the shoot. Kenji was being three year old Kenji and we had to amuse him, so Herb started asking him what were the capitals of all the American cities. Amazingly, he answered each question perfectly. As well, he burst out with enthusiasm as I clicked off the pictures. That was the last set of photos I took of Herb. When I look back upon that moment, I am glad I was able to capture Herb in his element and so joyous to be with those he loved. It is a moment I will never forget and cherish as a photographer, as a friend. Herb was letting us know that it was alright and he was going to make it regardless of medical statistics and our worst fears. But he always had a way of looking on the bright side, seeing possibilities and potential where less brave people could not.

Herb will be sorely missed by Nancy, Nicole and me. He touched so many folks with his humor, his optimism, his strength of conviction and sense of justice and outrage against war and racism. If I have learned anything it is that Herb taught me that you cannot lose by extending love and generosity to others. And he always made the effort to those he considered friends and family. You cannot ask for anything more than that. A friend like Herb comes to you on rare occasions only. We will remember and feel his presence. Rest in peace, brother.

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Herbert Lee Holman March 2, 1949--December 15, 2005

from Rashida Holman

In the tradition of many African villages, the elders of the community are the keepers of all history. The griot, as many were called, were responsible for keeping the history of village alive through the art of storytelling. Teaching valuable lessons and stressing moral principles became integrated into stories and proverbs. These stories had three main goals, first were to keep the interest of the listeners, second to preserve family history and teach important life lessons and lastly to create a network of individuals that knew the family or village history. Now as I speak in front of you, let’s take a moment to think about this. Now you must remember the three goals of the griot when I ask you these questions. How many of you have even been educated and entertained by the story told by my uncle. How many of you have ever listened to story about my grandfather and the luncheonette on 133rd and 7th ave, and lastly, even though this communication tool is absent from many African villages, how many of you have read a politically charged email or letter that you eventually forwarded and showed to another person. If you have answered yes to any of these questions than you are officially apart the village. Aside from my grandfather, the master storyteller, my uncle used storytelling as a main form of communication.
Let me first begin by saying Herb was not the uncle I knew. I knew that my grandparents had three children. Margaret (my mom), Robert (the baby), and Brother. At a very early age, my mother was unable to say the name Herb and since everyone told her that he was her brother; she just figured that that was his name. The name stuck and as a result every family member and friend on the east coast know Herb as Brother. As I stand here today with several emotions guiding me through this speech, I have to wonder how Brother might have described himself. I think he would highlight his intellect. It was through this that many of his goals were fulfilled. Successful entrepreneur, seasoned lecturer, and political activist serve as few of many badges of honor. I know he would recognize his humor. He always had a way of sticking in his own funny interpretation of the topic at hand. I know he would value his good looks. It seems like every picture that I see, my uncle’s Afro is just right and his clothes are very well put together. In other words, he was sharp. I know he would emphasize his love for his family and friends because to Brother. They were one in the same. Whether is was through email updates, annual Christmas cards, Broadway Brunches, Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners Brother knew how to get people together. His love for history or constant analysis of the experience of oppressed people all over the world also comes to mind. Countless movements, I am sure demonstrations, and letter writing campaigns had Herb Holman’s name written all over it.
In the tradition of my uncle, I felt that some storytelling of my own was in order. I remember one day, I asked my grandfather to tell me some stories. I would routinely prompt him with questions and he would oblige me and tell me what ever my young mind wanted to know. I think this story that I am about to tell came between my great great great grandfather with the 7 wives and my great great great great grandmother the rode a donkey from Denmark South Carolina and Charleston South Carolina too secretly see her children that were sold off to a different plantation or maybe it was between the story of all the famous people that came into my grandfathers shop for his famous sabret Hotdogs …Well anyway, somehow we got onto the topic of my mom and brother when they were little. My grandfather routinely recalled stories where he continuously professed that mommy was the quite reserved one and brother was just into everything. He told me that one day while the two of them were outside playing, brother somehow disappeared. As everyone in the neighborhood began to search, brother was nowhere to be found. Until someone managed to look under the stairs of a nearby building, there he was eating a piece of candy and reading a comic book. My grandfather also recalled the intellectual banter between my mom and Brother; quite honestly, I think he said, “ they argued like cats and dogs. They disagreed on what radio shows to listen to, eventually what TV show to watch, and just like any other siblings anything else that could not equally be divided in half. After the watching the two of them interact from as long as I can remember, I have arrived at my own conclusion. My mom basically knows everything and Brother he also know everything…. but in addition to everything he knows he knows everything else. And when Robert was born, I am sure that he was used to shift the intellectual pendulum back and forth between them.
As I was looking through the countless Black and White photos, I came across the same photo at different stages in their lives. In front of fire hydrant stood two children, one a girl an one a boy, very similar in appearance, both with the same innocent smirk on their face. It was at that moment that I realized that all the discrepancies meant nothing, the love between a brother and his sister was all that was apparent. I am truly blessed to have the family that I have. My grandparents put forth their best effort in raising conscious resilient leaders. The fruits of their labor are visible when one looks into all of the many accomplishments and touched lives left by my uncle Herb. Brother will be truly missed, but I commit to keep his memory alive through the continuation of family storytelling, political activism and a good old family dinner. I love you brother, your legacy will continue, your visions will be seen and most of all you presence will be missed.

Additional topics for thought
Brother’s love of music (As a little girl I would listen to the mix tapes that brother made for my mom)
Conscientious objector to Vietnam War
Love of teaching(brother would always send me supplemental material to share with my students)

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BROTHER'S EULOGY

from Robert Holman

ON THIS DAY FAMILY AND FRIENDS ARE ALL MOURNING THE LOSS OF MY BROTHER HERBERT HOLMAN. WE HAVE COME TOGETHER AS ONE GIANT FAMILY TO BID FAREWELL AND REMEMBER A FINE MAN WHO HAS TOUCHED SO MANY PEOPLE IN A SPECIAL WAY. I REMEMBER ATTENDING HIS CLASSES WHILE HE WAS AN ANTHROPOLOGY PROFESSOR AT QUEENS COLLEGE AND BERKLEY UNIVERSITY. HE WAS A MASTER AND HAD A UNIQUE WAY OF CONNECTING WITH PEOPLE WHICH I BELIEVE NOBODY CAN DUPLICATE.

YESTERDAY AS I LOOKED AT MANY OF HERBS PICTURES TAKEN IN THE SIXTIES AND SEVENTIES I REALIZED HOW MUCH HE HAS CHANGED.
IN THE SIXTIES, SEVENTIES, AND THE LAST DECADE HE WOULDN’T MIND STEPPING IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA FOR A PHOTO. BUT DURING MY ADOLESENT YEARS IT SEEMED LIKE THIS WAS TOTALLY OPPOSITE.
HAVING A 14 YEAR AGE DIFFERENCE AND LIVING ON OPPOSITE ENDS OF THE UNITED STATES I FEEL I MISSED OUT ON ALL THE GREAT THINGS BROTHERS AND SISTERS DO. FOR INSTANCE MY MOTHER USE TO TELL ME HERB AND MY SISTER MARGARET GROWING UP AS KIDS WOULD FIGHT LIKE CAT AND DOGS. I JUST COULD NOT BELIEVE IT SINCE I DID’T HAVE A SIBLING CLOSER TO MY AGE GROWING UP. I REALIZE NOW WATCHING MY KIDS FIGHT THE SAME WAY IT IS JUST NATURAL AND THEY STILL LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
BACK IN THE SEVENTIES AND EIGHTIES I USE TO FLY OUT OFTEN TO VISIT HERB. HE WOULD TAKE ME TO ALL OF THE POPULAR SIGHTS, RESTAURANTS AND ATTRACTIONS SUCH AS GIRADELLI SQUARE, LOMBARD STREET. ETC. ONE DAY WE TOOK A RIDE ON A CABLECAR IN SAN FRANCISCO. I WAS STANDING ON THE EDGE HOLDING ONTO THE POLE GOING UP A STEEP INCLINE. SUDDENLY A STRONG WIND BLEW THE HAT I WAS WEARING OFF MY HEAD. I IMMEDIATELY JUMPED OFF WHILE THE CABLE CAR WAS STILL MOVING. I STARTED BACK PEDDLEING DOWN THE HILL WHICH SEEMED LIKE IT LASTED FOR AN ETERNITY. I REMEMBER SEEING HERB LOOK AT ME THEN REACH BACK INSIDE TO PULL THE STRING AND SIGNAL FOR THE STOP WHICH I BELIEVE WAS MORE THAN A BLOCK AWAY. I FINALLY FELL ON THE GROUND WITHOUT GETTING HURT. I COULD HEAR EVERYONE ON THE CABLECAR GASP. HERB CAME RUNNING TOWARDS ME TO SEE IF I WAS HURT. HE THOUGHT I FELL ACCIDENTLY. I TOLD HIM I JUMPED. BECAUSE THE HAT WAS HIS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO LOOSE IT. I FIGURED HE WOULD GET VERY ANGRY FOR LOOSING HIS HAT. I DIDN’T WANT TO FIGHT WITH HIM SINCE I NEVER DID. NEEDLESS TO SAY HE WASN’T ANGRY, I WAS ABLE TO RETRIEVE THE HAT, AND THAT WAS MY FIRST AND LAST RIDE ON A CABLE CAR IN SAN FRANCISCO.

MARGARET AND I SPOKE TO HERB ON A CONFERENCE CALL LAST SATURDAY WHILE HE WAS STILL IN THE HOSPITAL. I COULD HEAR IN HIS VOICE HE WAS VERY TIRED AND ANGRY AT THE WAY THE NURSES TREATED HIM. WHILE IN EXTREME PAIN ALL HE WANTED TO DO IS GO HOME TO BE COMFORTABLE. HE TOLD ME HE WOULD CALL ME WHEN GETS HOME. I REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE HOSPITAL TO RELEASE HERB FOR WEEKS ESPECIALLY AFTER THE COMPLICATIONS DURING AND FOLLOWING THE SURGERY. I WAS SHOCKED WHEN AUDEE CALLED ME THURSDAY AND TOLD ME HERB PASSED AWAY. THIS MORNING I READ SEVERAL STORIES OF PERSONS WHO SURVIED THE SAME ORDEAL AND WONDERED WHY WE ALL COULDN’T BE WRITING A SUCCESSFUL RECOVERY AND REMISSION STORY ABOUT HERB.

THE ONE THING WHICH IS PUZZLING TO ME IS WHY HERB NEVER TOLD ME OR MARGARET HE WAS DIAGNOSED WITH STAGE 4 COLON CANCER. I COULD ONLY ASSUME HE DIDN’T WANT HIS SITUATION TO ADVERSELY AFFECT OUR INDIVIDUAL PERSONAL LIVES, ESPECIALLY AFTER LOOSING OUR MOTHER IN THE LATE EIGHTIES THEN OUR FATHER LAST YEAR TO CANCER.

I SPOKE TO DOCTOR MICHAEL BADEN FORENSIC PATHOLOGIST WHO IS A CO-DIRECTOR OF THE NEW YORK STATE POLICE MEDICOLEGAL INVESTIGATION UNIT. DR BADEN IS ASSISTING US BY GIVING ADVICE. HE ALSO WILL PERSONALLY REVIEW ALL OF THE MEDICAL RECORDS. WE ALL BELIEVE THE SURGERY AND TREATMENT WHICH ENSUED IN THE HOSPITAL CONTRIBUTED TO HERBS DEATH AND NOBODY ELSE IS TO BLAME. WE WILL HAVE THIS INVESTIGATED THIS TO THE FULLEST EXTENT TO SEEK THE TRUTH.
WE ALL WOULD LIKE TO PERSONALLY THANK YOU FOR KIND AND WARM SYMPATHY.

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Remembrance from John Kastanis (friend from Flushing High School)

1/20/05


Dear Audee: I’m sorry I couldn’t express myself better or talk to you for a longer time when you called today. I was in the middle of a business meeting, but I’m glad that you reached me.

I am heartbroken. I realize that Herb and I have been incommunicado for more than 30 years, and yet all those qualities you spoke of in your remembrance are the very reason why I always thought about him and hoped that I could find him someday. Thanks to the internet that was made possible this past year. I will always be thankful to have seen him again, even if it was meant to be just one last time before leaving this world.

All the attributes and qualities that made him so wonderful were a part of him throughout his life. When we first met in Flushing High School in 1964, we were in our teens and being shaped and molded by the sweeping changes of our culture. It was the tumultuous 60’s and the music, politics, fashion, religion, racial strife, social mores, economy and war of the day were the driving forces for all youth, as they are today. However, I know Herb’s credo and commitment to the causes he believed in were just as strong today, as they were years ago. I’m glad to hear that he had a chance to teach and share his real life experiences with the young students of today. The world has changed a great deal since the 60s, but so many issues remain chronic and need our attention. It’s no surprise that Herb remained fervent about his beliefs, while also being a happy and attentive family man.

I wish so much to have been closer to him throughout the years, and yet when I saw him this past summer it was like he never left. The only difference was he had a much larger group of people hanging with him, which is a real testament of how easy it was to befriend him and always feel comfortable being around him.

That loud laugh will never diminish in my heart.

God bless Herb Holman.

Sincerely, John N. Kastanis

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letter from Henry Chu

14 January 2006

Dear Herb,

Where did you go, Man? And to think, you didn’t even leave me your new email address! But, somehow, I know you’re among us today.

As you know, our friendship dates back 35 years ago. We first crossed paths at Queens College in September of 1970. I can’t remember the exact circumstances on how we met. But, I think, it might have been when Legan and Teri recruited a reluctant me into the Asian American Club and we met somehow through that. I was a freshman and you were a senior. I believe we remained that way for next two years. When colleges in the New York City University system were free back then, there was really no rush for us to leave.

We became fast friends. Before there was Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan, there was Herb Holman and Henry Chu. I learned never to mess with your car radio and you learned never to mess with my camera. We shared a passion for music, politics, sports and…White Castle hamburgers.

You were a middle distance runner for the Queens College track team, excelling in cross-country and the 5K.

Sociology was your major. And New York City was your classroom. The people, the rich, the poor, the good, the bad and the big politics. The driving rhythmic beat of the big city. You even drove a taxi cab and experienced every flavor the Big Apple was able to offer.

When our student deferment from the draft was eliminated, you became a prime candidate for Vietnam because of your low number. That was a very worrisome time. After much research, writing and politicking, you were able to convince the US draft board of your position on war and they granted you conscientious objector status. That was no small task. Your beliefs and convictions were that strong.

You always enjoyed a great meal. Actually, you were also a pretty good cook. You hosted and cooked for your signature “Soul Banquets” for 15 to 20 of your friends. It wasn’t just a meal, it was, it was…a food orgy.

There weren’t too many parties that we missed out on. The only thing you and I hated was that one person who would hog up the record player and play the same damn songs that nobody liked over and over again.

One night, we came up with a crazy idea. Hmm. We both had a large record collection; I was a bit of an audiophile; you loved to write poetry. Say, maybe we can hook up two turntables and mix records, while you introduce some of the songs and recite some of your poetry once in awhile. And we can rent ourselves out to parties and make lots of money. And you can call yourself the Rapper and I’ll be called Cool Breeze. And the women would finally love us. And…what a minute! This is 1972! That’s a dumb idea! There was no disco music; there was no spinning records; there was no Rap! Six or seven years later, it’s a great idea! Plus, how can we dance while playing records?

Maybe, just maybe we can tape it and play it at parties! Herb, we must have spent countless hours and days producing these party tapes in my sister Mae, her husband Pete and their daughter Donna’s apartment. As you know, we managed to produce 4 tapes. The Herb Holman Spectacular!

However, in June of 1972, you made a bold decision to attend graduate school at UC Berkeley. I decided that maybe I should finally attend and pass my classes.

Although you ended up 2800 miles away, we always remained the best of friends.

Listen Herb do me a big favor and say hi to my sister Mae. I’m sure she had a great cup of coffee waiting for you just like the old days.

I miss you Brother and I’m sure we’ll meet up again one day.

Your Old Friend,

Henry

P.S. Sometimes we don’t realize what we do or say now that will have an even bigger impact on people in the future. If you don’t mind Herb, I’d to play something for your friends that we recorded back in 1972.

Herb's Goodbye
http://ia300836.eu.archive.org/1/items/HerbsGoodbye/HerbsGoodbye.mp3

Remembrances from Prof. Devra Davis, University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute (1/20/06)

Audee and Herb’s large family might not be surprised to hear that even as a student at Queens College in 1973, Herb was one of a kind. One of the smartest of the bunch in sociology, Herb was driving a cab until he took my class in what was euphemistically called “social problems.” This class took all those unpleasant and uncomfortable things like homosexuality and racial oppression and lumped them into a single course aimed at nothing less than a fundamental critique of the way the world worked.

Of course, Herb was the star of the class. He brought to each lecture a level of curiosity and energy that proved infectious. Long after the class would end, Herb and a few other students would remain in my office peppering me with questions about what if this or that had been different. We loved to talk about Marx’s third thesis on Feuerbach – “the point is not to analyze the world, the point is to change it.” This seemed as much as anything a mantra for Herb and many of us, disgusted with the way the world was going and determined to find a better way to conduct ourselves and change the world in the process.

I spent some magical hours with Herb the week before his surgery, recounting our old days as student and teacher – we were but a few years apart in age – which seemed like eons back then. We spoke of all those things we still hold dear – our families, children and grandchildren. I learned then that he had found cab-driving increasingly dangerous back then. This was before the bullet proof plastic barriers were in place and a time when violent crimes within the community were on the rise.

Herb was a natural teacher. It seemed only fair to ask him to before a lecturer in sociology, a teaching assistant at the time, he was such a shining star. This allowed him to leave what was becoming an increasingly violent world and get some recompense for doing so well that which came easily to him – helping others to grow beyond their comfort zones, to think, to question, to become better people in the process.

His smile and deep affection for humanity shined through when he was in his twenties. When I met with him just before Thanksgiving, I could see that he had lost none of his brilliant gift of humor and insight. He was fearless, confident, brave and beautiful. He still is.

Remembering Herb (by Lori Kodama, 1/7/06)

In Memorium - Herb Holman, Jr.

After Herb visited post-9/11 Manhattan, I asked the native New Yorker if his hometown felt different. He said he realized for the first time how much he had come to rely on the World Trade Center towers to constantly reorient himself as he went around town. He said it wasn’t even conscious – it was a habit to glance up for the towers out of the corner of his eye where ever he was in the city. After 9/11, he said, he kept looking for the towers against the New York skyline even though he knew they were gone.

Upon news of his death, I suddenly remembered him saying that. Just as suddenly, I had an image of Herb standing at one of the many community receptions, head and shoulders above the rest, laughing and engaging others in boisterous banter. I realized that I used to look for him at community gatherings, just as he looked for the twin towers in Manhattan, for reassurance. I’d seek Herb out in a crowd, and he’d buy me a drink and regale me with the latest gossip. I’d shush him because he liked to comment rather loudly when guest speakers were up at the podium. I always knew it would be a good event if Herb and Audee were there. I suppose there is a metaphor embedded in that thought as well. Herb always gave me good advice, not only about financial matters, but also about family and life and love. He set an example of a life dedicated to building community. He knew how to have fun; he knew that good food with good friends could restore the soul, and he was the best trivia contest teammate my sisters and I ever had; ever will.

And so I will continue to look for him, out of the corner of my eye, hoping for reassurance, guidance, wisdom and laughter.

Much love,
Lori

Remembrances of Herb – from Audee

(Rev. 1/13/06)

This is a day that I hoped I would never face. Despite Herb’s diagnosis of stage 4 colon cancer seven months ago, I never doubted that Herb would make it. He never let this devastating news overcome him. He was determined to live his life his way and somehow win the battle. He had no time to feel sorry for himself or angry at his fate. Herb was always the optimist. He never stopped working or teaching during the months of aggressive chemotherapy. All he wanted to do was to figure out how he could get better and move on with his life.

During this time, Herb and I deeply appreciated every phone call, email, card, visit, flowers, food, rides and acts of kindness. He was so grateful for the support he received from Gloria Guinto, Debbie Moy (who taught us Chi Gong in our home), Sanae Miyaji, neighbors Craige and Penny Davis, neighbor Sayuri Yamazaki, Eddie and Pam, Mary Anne Holman, Peggy Saika and Art Chen, Susan Morales, Kathy Lu and countless others. During his last days, Herb remarked what wonderful family and friends we have.

For anyone who ever knew Herb – you had to feel his presence, his big heart, unbridled enthusiasm and incredible spirit. He exemplified living life to the fullest, loving unconditionally and giving generously. He had a great passion for many things. He loved cooking and entertaining. He loved music and mixing tapes. Hip hop and old school R&B. Jazz and folk. Bob Marley and Joe Bataan. James Taylor and Smokey Robinson. He loved Dave Chappelle’s comedy and Woody Allen’s films. He was fiercely competitive and loved playing on the Trivia teams with the Kodama sisters or Grant Din’s Reverse DNA. He loved fighting for social justice and upholding the legacy of Malcolm X and Fred Korematsu.

But most of all, he placed family above everything. He was my best friend and life partner. Herb loved each of the grandchildren and nieces and nephews in a special way. He made sure he knew each of their interests and talents. He loved to buy them gifts for each visit to Los Angeles or New York, to take them out to their favorite restaurant or fast food place, to make them laugh at his jokes, and to find creative ways to have fun.

I don’t think anyone has ever done more for my family than Herb. He loved my mother and would do anything to help her from coordinating her health care, chauffeuring her around, buying her supplies, fixing her computer and cleaning up her room. Herb was the only one who could walk into her cluttered studio and clean it up in a day.

It may sound like a cliché but Herb was one of a kind. His philosophy of life carried over to everything – whether it was his undying love for his family and friends, providing services to his clients, giving back to the community or advocating for progressive causes (especially against the War in Iraq). He could never do anything half-heartedly. If he trusted someone or believed in a cause, it was always 100%. Herb never put off something that could be done today for tomorrow. He was never too busy to remember someone’s birthday or to send a thank you note. In fact, he kept a calendar of the birthdays of every family member (over 25 or more) and every client (over 100) and their spouse and children. He would personally pick a card – usually funny or suited to the person’s interest – and make every effort to mail it on time (even when we were on vacation or when he was going through chemotherapy).

There are so many memories that typify Herb. He was the most wonderful father to Herbie and stepfather to Zulu (whom he always called his son). He was so proud of both of them. His love for Herbie was unconditional even when he disagreed with him. He knew that love, our love and his mom Mary Anne’s love would make Herbie the best person. He believed in allowing children to be themselves, to find what interested them, and to support them to grow and develop those values that mattered most. As a child, when Herbie would be going back and forth between both households, Herb made sure that we had no other commitments during our time with him. He wanted to be there for every game and special occasion.

To Herb, family had a broad definition – very similar to the way my family felt too. He embraced everyone – the Holman’s, Kochiyama’s, Arai’s & Wong’s, Almazol’s, Ennis’s, Lipp’s, Williams’, Ladson’s, Sardinha’s, Duncan’s, Wu’s, Murakawa’s, Miyashiro’s, Togawa’s, Nakahara’s and others – including relatives by marriage and ex-marriage (on both sides), cousins of in-laws and close friends. If you were a part of Herb’s family, that was all that mattered. For him, it meant that there were no boundaries in his love and devotion.

There are so many memories that will sustain me during these difficult times. I will remember and miss his loud laughter (even when I was embarrassed). I came to appreciate it when Charlie Chin or the actors from the 18 Mighty Mountain Warriors would love Herb being in the audience. His laughter was infectious.

I will miss his calls when I stayed late at work. He’d ask me when I was ever coming home and he’d be there waiting for me at the BART station at all hours. But he always had a warm smile on his face. He would tease me that I was more married to the Asian Law Caucus than to him.

I will miss his incredible meals that he would cook for the two of us or for 20 to 50 people. Even though he had a demanding job, I’d often come home and find a home-cooked meal ready on the table; or if we came home together, he’d be the first one in the kitchen.

I will miss all the traditions he started – the Super Bowl parties, the 4th of July barbecues (with Herb’s fireworks show), leftovers lunch (after Thanksgiving) and intimate Christmas Eve dinners with people like Bob, Nancy and Nicole; Charlie, Linda and David; Winnie, Lindy, Greg, Miyoko and others. I’ll miss Christmas dinner with the Nakashima’s, Fujiki’s, Tana’s, Nishimura’s, and Kanaya’s. Herb loved to pitch in carving the turkey and bringing his cornbread. As everyone knows, Herb was in his element when he hosted and cooked for masses of people at our home.

I remember how much he enjoyed giving back to the community. He loved the art receptions curated by Greg Morozumi, the cultural events sponsored by EastSide Arts Alliance, the Trivia Contest and Annual Dinner I coordinated for the Asian Law Caucus, the dance performances by Purple Moon Dance Company (and he was especially proud of our cousin Jill Guillermo-Togawa), and all the cultural and movement events in the Asian and black communities.

For several years, he volunteered on Bingo Nights for the Japanese Community Youth Council and the Asian American Theater Company. Sometimes two or three times a month for 5 hours at a time, he’d sell bingo games to benefit these nonprofits. He loved to think he was the best salesman and would make a game of it – now matter how tedious it was.

A few years ago, Herb was so excited to be a part of Jeff Adachi’s Campaign for San Francisco Public Defender. He’d volunteer to go door to door hanging campaign literature and organizing phone banks. He never once doubted that Jeff would win and he took great pride in his victory. Whenever we’d pass a neighborhood where he canvassed, Herb would smile and remember campaigning for Jeff.

More recently, after connecting with his old friend Steve Millner from UC Berkeley graduate school days, Herb returned to teaching. Steve as Chariman of the African American Studies Department at San Jose State hired him to be an instructor teaching three classes this year. Herb loved it and never missed a day during his chemo treatments.

Our 8-year old granddaughter Kai spoke at our family memorial two weeks ago. She eloquently explained Herb’s passing in this way. “Grandpa Herb is flying in the sky and learning new things. He no longer has a body. He’s a spirit and is always around us. No sadness, no sickness, no death can separate love.”

During Herb’s last nine days, he lovingly looked at the photo of him, Kai, and 3-year old Kenji everyday. It was the photo of the three of them sitting on a bench this summer in New York with very happy faces.

While we will all miss Herb profoundly -- most of all me and Herbie -- he would want us to continue to smile, to laugh loudly, to give and share, to fight against injustice and to always remain positive.

I feel so grateful and privileged that I shared twenty years with him, as much as I desparately wish it were longer. As I said to him almost everyday – I love you Herb.

--Audee

thoughts after Herb's memorial service

On January 14, 2006 several hundred people attended the public memorial for Herb. It was held at Wheeler Auditorium at UC Berkeley, where Herb attended graduate school. There were remembrances by family members and friends, as well as performances by his friends. Drummer Akira Tana performed as part of a jazz ensemble; Jill Togawa danced a beautiful hula; Kathryn Kanaya, Charlie Chin and Nobuko Miyamoto honored Herb through songs.

At the memorial, Herb’s old classmate Henry Chu played a tape of him acting as a DJ, “The Rapper.” I spoke after that, but there really wasn’t any need to. We all heard it from Herb himself. His love for everyone was evident in his voice, the poignant way he said goodbye as he signed off the radio program.

I think about all the ways in which Herb has helped me, how he was always there for me and my family, how he remembered our birthdays and found time to treat us to lunch, cook us dinner, give us lifts to airports, throw parties, volunteer at our organizations, attend our functions, etc. etc. Plus hold a full time job and take care of Audee and over 25 members of his extended family. I think, where did he find the time? Then I reflect on all the hundreds of people that Herb also
helped in the same way. There must have been a thousand Herbs manifesting simultaneously. Herb lives on. His love was so big it cannot be contained in one lifetime. And he was living proof that love can make a space so vast that time itself will expand to hold all that
needs to be done.

- Nancy Hom