Armed with nothing more than his cherished ukulele, a modest band, and his resplendent voice, Iz delivered a performance that left the audience in awe. Adding a personal touch to his rendition, given the Hawaiian context of the event, he decided to perform the beloved song in his native language, infusing it with an even deeper emotional resonance.
In spite of his need for supplemental oxygen, Iz’s voice resonated with strength and beauty, filling the room with a breathtaking resonance. The sheer power of his vocals compelled everyone in attendance to rise in respect, utterly captivated by the profound display.
Though the performance was profoundly moving, it also carried an air of sadness. Many in the audience became acutely aware of the harsh reality that confronted Iz during this phase of his life. The knowledge that his time was limited weighed heavily on the hearts of those present, recognizing that this performance might be one of his final appearances.
Tragically, this prediction proved accurate. Having previously survived a heart attack in 1989, Iz succumbed to complete respiratory failure shortly after this memorable 1996 show. His passing cast a shadow over the music world, leaving behind a profound void.
Iz, however, was unafraid to confront the subject of death openly. “I’m not scared for myself for dying,” he once remarked. “Because I believe all these places are temporary. This is just one shell. We Hawaiians, we live in both worlds. It’s in our veins. When my time comes, don’t cry for me. Don’t cry for me.” In the aftermath of his departure, a fitting tribute was paid to Hawaii’s native son through a paddle-out ceremony, drawing thousands, including his dear friend Robin Gerald, to honor Iz’s remarkable life
