Come meet my friend, Iz.

You've probably heard his most famous song, a falsetto medley of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” and “It’s a Wonderful World” so mellifluous it’s like a Sunday choir singing with the windows open on the first day of spring.  And then you see a photo of Israel Kamakawiwoʻole, mercifully nicknamed “Iz” by his Hawaiian brethren – an astounding 767 lbs. at one point.  It’s hard to believe such a sweet, gentle voice came from that volcano of a man, ukulele disappearing in his arms like he was holding matchsticks, but his voice inviting you in for a big hug and an aloha.  That was the charm of Iz, the native musical son islanders are most proud of for his spirit, not just his success.

I was in Hawaii for the first time last week and Iz’s presence still blesses the islands, long after his death in 1996.  His likeness is on signs, t-shirts, and calendars, and somehow you sense his songs playing in the background on the island, the  soundtrack to every sunny day.

Born to a musical family, Iz started playing at age 11 with his uncles.  He played music during his time at the University of Hawaii and formed a successful band, Makaha Sons of Niʻihau that provided soundtracks for the Hawaiian renaissance.  Iz and the band went on to produce 15 albums and tour all over the United States, his voice, filled with swaying waves and green mountain breezes, brought immense pride and a sense of cultural rediscovery to native islanders.  He went on to release multiple solo albums and won myriad accolades and awards, both in Hawaii and abroad, bringing attention to the Hawaiian independence movement and the rights of indigenous people.

Despite his cult-like popularity, Iz faced a lifelong battle with morbid obesity, and indeed succumbed to obesity-related complications in 1997 at the age of 38.  He left behind his wife, daughter, and millions of fans who will remember him forever.  He was celebrated with a traditional surfer’s funeral on July 10, 1997, where thousands of family, friends, islanders, and lovers of his music paddled out to spread his ashes.  The Hawaiian flag flew at half-mast that day.

Iz is still revered as a legend, achieving almost prophetic status with the island’s inhabitants.  He still wins awards and inspires people all over the world posthumously, especially with this song, which grew to massive popularity after accompanying several movies.  It’s positive message and exuberant joy befit the spirit of the great man who sang it.

 R.I.P. and mahalo, Bruddah Iz.  Indeed, it is a wonderful world.