It is important to remember that the idea for the Passion play originated with Miss Beverly Woolf, devout Christian and former principal of the Banksborough Middle School of Lenheim, New Zealand, who had been summoned to this area of windward Oahu known as Waimanalo via a teacher exchange organization.

The same organization, with amazing forethought and planning had shipped hapless Miss Emilia Ramirez, devout Catholic of Filipino extraction, to New Zealand to confront a horde of rather large Maori youths, despite the fact that most of her teaching experience had come from dealing with the underprivileged and introspective students of Waimanalo who were, like her, predominantly Filipino and physically small.

It should also be noted that Miss Woolf's star pupil and general advocate among the students, one Felipe Ramos, did not want to do the Passion play.  He wanted to do a play called Arsenic And Old Lace which he had seen performed by a repertory troupe known as The Commedia some years earlier. He remembered little of the story, but he did recall that it involved some old tutus, a dead body, some crazy characters and funny policemen; and it seemed logical to Felipe that Waimanalo abounded in everything required.

There were plenty of tutus -- elderly women, affectionately called "auntie" by practically everyone, always bedecked in ankle-length dresses and flower-ringed straw hats and playing ukuleles as they sang the old songs. And quite often a body would be washed up on Waimanalo shores after having been deposited in the ocean by syndicate types from Kahaluu or Kaneohe. And there were plenty of crazy characters in the little Waimanalo school, some of whom got that way swallowing Orange Sunshine or similar chemical goodies, and usually being pursued by -- and lectured to -- by funny policement.

But the school had committed itself to perform a play for the benefit of the small community Catholic church, and all the proceeds were to go toward the fund for building a new community hall adjacent to it. Arsenic And Old Lace did not seem, to Miss Woolf, to be an appropriate vehicle for such a worthy cause. She preferred the Passion Play, the story of the last days, the death and the resurrection of Jesus, which had been performed every Easter at her school in New Zealand, performed entirely by Maori boys and girls.

There were problems, of course. There were always problems. The Maori soldiers at the foot of the cross insisted on sticking out their tongues after the fashion of their native dances, and it was always difficult to find someone among the sturdy young men who could pass for the thin Galilean.

That was also the immediate problem in Waimanalo. Try as he might, Felipe could not think of a single possible Jesus in the Waimanalo area.

He was astounded, therefore, when Miss wolf chose his good friend and fellow surfer, Keoki Kamealoha.  Keoki and Felipe had been steady companions for years -- since their days at Blanche Pope School; and, while Felipe would bow to no one in his open admiration for Keoki's prowess as a surfer and an all-around, top-quality, back-seat lover, he had a great deal of trouble visualizing his young friend as the tall, gentle Nazarene.

He was also astounded when Miss Woolf informed him -- in the deep, weird voice of hers with the broad A's and the clean, clear final consonants -- that Keoki actually wanted the role.

Everyone knew that Jesus had none of the good lines. Those went to Pontius Pilate and the dice-throwing soldiers at the foot of the cross -- most of which were improvised and more than a little colloquial -- and usually quite funny.

But Felipe had to admit that Miss Woolf, by the sheer force of her inate dignity, managed to convince the crap-shooters that a good third of the improvised obscenities and profanity should be cut, and she did, in the course of rehearsals, succeed in curtailing some of the natural exuberance that erupts when normally shy children are put into plays.

Still Felipe marvelled that Keoki would want the Christus role when all the action was rooted in other roles -- such as the dynamic role of the Centurion who was the one to use the famed "telescoping spear." When the Centurion thrust into the side of the crucified Jesus, the shaft would fold back into itself and, at the same time, puncture a small plastic cylinder of fake blood that would then squirt from the suspended body.

The effect was spectacular, and the action harmless.

The spear, it should be mentioned, was made by Kui Kamealoha, Keoki's brother, in shop class at Kailua High School where the instructor was under the impression that the youth was working on a modified differential for a '52 Chevrolet.

Felipe weighed all this against the fact that the Christus had little to say, had to hang for twelve minutes on a cross -- actually straddling a small peg with an almost-invisible harness under the arms and over the cross-bar to support the actor -- and say silly things to Rosie Morita such as "She has chosen the better way" == when everyone knew that Rosie's way was the way of all flesh and included frequent romantic bouts with Keoki after rehearsals in the parking lot.

Nevertheless, Miss Woolf managed to assemble all the proper elements of the show through the long rehearsal period, and the production was actually ready for the premiere performance on Easter Sunday afternoon.

There was a last-minute difficulty when the donkey they borrowed from Felipe's grandfather to carry Jesus into Jerusalem escaped and performed a pre-show spectacle of his own on the special dais erected in the front of the auditorium for the Mayor's welcoming address. On the other hand, there were many who commented that the donkey's contribution was infinitely more amusing -- and profound -- than the Mayor's.

As the time approached for the opening curtain, it was Miss Woolf and not Felipe who felt uneasy. There was something in the air. She couldn't put her finger on it, but since it was her responsibility to run the show, she began to feel a little queasy and mentally ran down a check-list of what could possibly go wrong.

It was ten minutes to curtain that the initial blow fell. The call for Miss Woolf was from Castle Memorial Hospital. It appeared that Keoki had had a slight disagreement with a Samoan over Rosie Morita, and both warriors were now in traction.

It is to Miss Woolf's everlasting credit -- and due, no doubt, to her many years in the backwaters of New Zealand with the mischievous Maori -- that she did not panic. As a good director, she had established alternate plans for almost any circumstance. Now she put into action Plan B with all the authority of Winston Churchill ordering the Royal Air Force into the Battle of Britain.

Simply: Charlie Nishimoto who was to play the Centurion would now move up -- or down, depending on your view concerning the importance of roles -- to play the Christus, and Rocky Huihui, who was to be one of the crap-shooters, would move into the role of the Centurion.

So with two minutes to curtain everything had been re-arranged and some semblance of calm had been restored to the cast and crews.

No one, at that time, noticed the slight tremor in Miss Woolf's right hand.

The fact that Charlie Nishimoto was of Japanese extraction and somewhat taller than Keoki was noted, because Jesus' robes came halfway up the calves of Charlie, but Miss Woolf reasoned that it gave a look of genteel poverty to the character, and everyone agreed that Charlie's added inches seemed more appropriate to the central figure of the play.

The curtain rose on time and to applause for the setting built by Kui, Felipe and their friends. The graceful curving arches of the Jerusalem gates shone in all their two-dimensional glory. Miss Woolf had never noticed that the canvas walls were backed by heavy four-by-four lumber which was the only boards the kids could steal from the construction site of the new resort just down the road.

The procession began: four or five dancing, nubile maidens sprinkling hibiscus petals before the Apostles and waving palm branches which gave the whole event the atmosphere of a Roman Baccanale.

Miss Woolf gasped at the sight of the yellowish smoke billowing from the censors swung by the Brothers Rodriquez, and deduced -- correctly -- that they had substituted several ounces of Maui Zowie, a potent home-grown cannabis plant -- for the standard incense cakes.

On the other hand, it was certainly a happy, merry throng that welcomed the Christus to Jerusalem.

It was much too late when Miss Woolf noticed the next great problem: the arches were made to order for Keoki's height but were too low for Charlie Nishimoto on muleback!

Charlie was frantically trying to stop the donkey on which he was seated, but the contrary beast had suddenly taken it into his mind that he was a candidate for the Grand National, because he bolted through the opeing at approximately 40 kilometers an hour.

Unfortunately, Charlie didn't

His head hit the cross beam of the arch with all the impact of a mortar shell and off he thumped.  The girls giggled, thinking good old Charlie was horsing around again, and the Brothers Rodriguez continued off the stage and down the aisles of the auditorium spewing clouds of yellow smoke in all directions.

Miss Woolf instantly ordered the curtain down and commanded the Miranda Sisters to go before it and sing one of the hymns normally scheduled for the Ascension scene.

Backstage, Miss Woolf quickly realized that Charlie would not see the light of day again for a few hours, so quickly she promoted Rocky Huihui from Centurion to the Christus -- despite his protests.

Frantically Miss Woolf surveyed the crowd of dice-players and her eyes settled on Sam Kioka who was quickly elevated to the rank of Centurion.

Julius Caesar never made so rapid an advance through the ranks.

The student cast pretended not tonotice the sudden tic that had developed in Miss Woolf's right eye.

Fortunately, for the next four scenes, the God of actors and fools smiled on the enterprise. Though Rocky was a little too obese to suggest the lean and fasting Christus, he was closer to the original height as set by Keoki.

Gradually the vague uneasiness began to lift from Miss Woolf. Her tic became less frequent and the tremor in her hand was hardly noticeable. She even began to like what she was seeing on the stage.

Before she realized it, it was time for the Crucifixion.

They had some little trouble backstage getting the rotund rocky onto the small peg, but he finally made it and even felt a little secure.

If only we can make it past the erecting of the cross, thought Miss Woolf.

And they did. The cross arose on schedule, teetered only a little, and then it was time for the casting of the dice for the robe.

This scene was, of course, predictably popular with the young people in the audience. It was sensational and lively and even modified to the point of discretion -- but with enough of the natural exuberance of youth to make the scene come alive.

Then it was time for Sam Kioka to pierce the side of the Galilean.

It was Rocky, suspended on the cross between earth and sky, who first noticed that the spear Sam Kioka was carrying was not the telescoping one. Sam, of course, never paid much attention to detail. All  he knew was that the Centurion would jab the Christus with the spear, the body would bleed, and afterwards there wouldn't be a mark on him.

It was the magic of the stage.

But Rocky knew, and he became a little agitated. he began to whisper to the crap-shooters to get Sam the right spear, but they were deeply engrossed in the possibility that Julio Garcia might, just make "an eight the hard way," and did not hear the frantic appeal from the cross.

Rocky became a little louder, and the audience began to wonder why Miss Woolf had turned the traditional "last seven words" into a three-miute monologue.

At that precise moment Miss Woolf noticed the spear.

But it was too late. Sam approached. Sam jabbed. Rocky screamed, and, trying to avoid the thrust, pivoted on the peg, slipped off, and was left dangling from the harness like a spider caught in a web.

Sam was aghast, and thinking that whatever was wrong was his fault, he jabbed a second time.

So Rocky screamed again. Real blood flew, and Rocky passed out.

Miss Woolf signaled quickly for the curtain to descend and pushed the Miranda Sisters before it for another hymn of praise.

The tic returned. And the tremor. And, above all, Miss Woolf was running low on potential Nazarenes.

Understandably no one wanted the role now. It was plainly jinxed, and there were even two or three murmurs about the entire production being sacriligeous, and that God was having his revenge on the hapless and helpless student cast. Someone recalled the seven plagues of Egypt and wondered what might be coming next, and Rosie Morita, the practical agnostic, blamed it all on the Brothers Rodriquez and their funny smoke.

Nevertheless, Miss Woolf was rapidly disintegrating before their eyes with tic, tremor and a slight froth at the corners of her mouth, and it was Rosie Morita who stepped forward and found still another volunteer for the role of the Christus.

It was Alvin Naumoa who was a full inch shorter than Rocky and ten pounds heavier.

What Rosie promised Alvin to get him to volunteer was never recorded -- or, prsumably, paid -- but Miss Woolf had another Christus for the final scene, the ascension into heaven. The over-all effect, thought Miss Woolf through her tears and trembling, is that the Christus is slowly shrinking and at the same time swelling -- as if some unseen celestial hand was pressing down on him. Alvin was assured that he had nothing to say, because the voice of God was on tape and would come from the area above the stage, properly amplified and thundering, on cue.

The Miranda Sisters, having exhausted their entire collection of Ascension hymns, were hurled before the curtain one more time to sing them all again while Alvin was poured into the costume which dragged on the floor. His arms disappeared in the sleeves, but a few pins here andthere adjusted the length to something approximating a fit.

To compensate for the obvious weight difference between Keoki and Alvin, the crew members added an extra hundred pounds to the counterweight system figuring, according to Joseph Amica's mathematics, that this would be just about right to enable the three man crew to pull Alvin smoothly and evenly into the fly area above the stage.

And it would have been, if Nephi Kaahea hadn't noticed the discrepancy too and, in a spirit of generous assistance, leaped forward at the last minute and helped the other crewmen pull the rope.

Onstage, the Christus ascended with a speed that put the rockets of the National Aeronautic and Space Academy to shame. Up he hurtled, screaming every meter of the way, up, up, beyond the line of the teasers and the striplights, straight up to the grid where his head struck the metal stiles with an agonizing crunch.

Wow! It was the Crucifixion and the Ascension telescoped into a single dramatic moment!

It was a hysterical Miss Woolf who screamed to the astounded crewmen to release the rope -- which they did -- instantly.

Alvin descended, aided by the power of gravity, even faster than he had gone up; and his fall -- still screaming -- terminated with a bone-shattering crack.

But not on the floor.

He landed on Rosie Morita who descended with Alvin straight through the paper mache mountain to the hardwood floor beneath.

The Miranda Sisters sang triumphantly, and the curtain descended just a fraction of second slower than Alvin had.

Normally the local critics would not be sent to review a local community production such as this, but it just so happened that, two weeks earlier, in a burst of enthusiasm and confidence, Miss Woolf had successfully argued -- via the letters columns in the major Honolulu newspapers -- that these tabloids should support such community endeavors.  She pointed out that in New Zealand the critics attend local productions, so why not Oahu?

Her argument received additional suport from a famous actor currently residing in a Diamond Head beach-house while he appeared in a television series being filmed there.

So the critics had attended.

The scribe for the morning paper in a terse, three inch box commended the costumes and said the script needed work.

The critic for the evening news said it was far better than some of the so-called professional troupes he had seen recently and infinitely more amusing.

The drama specialist for the weekly newspaper arrived late and missed the triumphal entry into Jerusalem,, but commended the "special effects" -- especially the smoke of the Brothers Rodriquez -- and admired the donkey.

It was an anonymous correspondent in the weekly Catholic peridical, however, who caught the flavor of the production when he wrote "In a time when doubt and corruption seem to everywhere, when murder is sanctioned by the processes of law, it is refreshing to find so many young men and women diligently laboring to tell the story of Easter to the best of their ability. God must have, indeed, smiled - if not laughed out loud."

It can happily be reported that the parish was able to build their community hall.

Miss Woolf, following her hospitalization, convalescence and period of therapy, returned to New Zealand, and Miss Ramirez returned to Waimanalo where she suddenly startled the students from time to time by sticking out her tongue at them as she leaped over the desk.

The new hall will open formally in the autumn with a full production of Arsenic And Old Lace. Keoki's cracked ribs and lips, Charlie Nishimoto's fractured skull, Rocky's lacerations, Alvin's cuts and broken legs, and Rosie's Sprained back and swollen jaw should all be healed by then.

Felipe is scheduled to play the dead body.

They are dedicating their performance to Miss Woolf.

THE END