Slow Burn
The Consignment Center at the corner of Pumehana and King streets in Mo‘ili‘ili looks like it’s been there forever, every seeming inch of space packed with bureaus, couches, loungers, ottomans, tables with lamps, bottles, chess boards on them, you name it. Everything previously owned and gently used, all of it available for purchase at generously discounted prices.
Under glass at the back of the store is a collection of cigarette lighters. Enough to fill the entire display counter, plus two more boxes on the floor. Nearly too many for owner James E. “Chip” Buchmiller to count. “Altogether, the stuff in here is probably… 80 different homes’ worth,” he says, looking around the shop. Plus there’s a second floor, with twice as much furniture upstairs.
Part of Buchmiller’s job is to go to estate sales or meet people at their homes and bring back new (well, secondhand) finds. He’ll receive more than a dozen emails every day from folks clearing out excess furniture or moving to a smaller place or moving away from Hawai‘i. Or he’ll be contacted by the family of someone who passed away that had a whole house of furniture.
Eight out of ten times, Buchmiller can’t help them. He doesn’t have the capacity. His shop is too small, even though it frequently sells all the furniture and the space gets cleared out on a regular basis. It doesn’t matter because one or two big estates have the ability to instantly fill this entire store to the brim again.
Luckily, the lighters were easy. Buchmiller received an email from an attorney with a client that had a large collection of guns, knives, and lighters. “He had a lot of guns. Now the police have all the guns. I got a lot of the knives,” he says, pointing to a long box behind the display counter filled with machetes, hatchets, and swords. Buchmiller, who probably doesn’t get a lot of shoplifters, continues: “The guy actually owned a brass knuckle knife. Unless you have fat fingers like me. Then it’s a fingertip knife.” Buchmiller isn’t normally interested in people’s collections. (“Get out!” he’ll joke, if you ask if he’s got a stash of Beanie Babies hidden somewhere.) Unless a collection is unusual or has history, which these lighters do. Some are generic Ronsons or Zippos, the kind with the American flag emblazoned on them or Lucky Strike or Winston cigarette logos. Others are more valuable Dunhill or Dupont lighters, many of which are gold plated and have sophisticated designs.
The lighters Buchmiller likes are from old Hawai‘i. They’re rare, not just for lighter collectors but also for history buffs. Embellished with the logos of clubhouses and local haunts long since shuttered, these lighters are a link to Honolulu’s past. They represent a cultural identity and a way of life. “When was the last time you were over at the Lavender Lounge? Or dialed a phone number that only had six numbers?” Buchmiller asks, holding up a lighter for the Denver Grill, formerly located at 1432 Makaloa Street (where the Ke‘eaumoku Walmart is today) and whose phone number was simply 977-165.
Back then, address and phone numbers printed on the side helped these lighters double as business cards. (They also probably helped any drinkers who had the tendency to get lost on the way to their favorite watering hole.) These days, this info offers a modern clue to the former whereabouts of long-lost spots. Several were located in buildings — or entire streets — that no longer exist, such as the Lavender Lounge at 4017 Avenue “U,” or another unknown destination previously located at 601 South Queen Street, the overgrown longtime parking lot across from the Kaka‘ako Fire Station. Other lighters serve as a reminder that some areas, like 1348 Kapi‘olani Boulevard (home to 1964’s Evening Star bar), have been a nightlife destination for more than half a century.
Lighters sometimes advertised services: There was the Ala Moana U-Drive, offering rental cars from Waikiki’s Inn on the Park or the Honolulu International Airport. (For more details, call 992-989.) A few are novelties, such as those with slogans, including “I can’t be bought, but make me an offer” and “You wear your age well.” One oversized lighter bears the insignia for the Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard, possibly a larger-than-life lighter for a larger-than-life guy.
Buchmiller is also somewhat a larger-than-life guy. A 20-year veteran of the commercial real estate industry and a former futures trader at the Chicago Board of Trade, he wasn’t necessarily equipped to clear out his father’s estate when the senior Buchmiller passed away in 2015. “Furniture takes up a lot of space and it’s hard to handle,” says Buchmiller. “Not a lot of groups will help you get rid of stuff.” Nonprofits, such as Goodwill and the Salvation Army, may accept furniture and appliances if they’re properly cleaned and ready for resale. But they won’t take everything, and they won’t pick it up. Buchmiller gave items away, sold things, took stuff to the dump. It wasn’t easy.
Seeing the need for people who had to get rid of furniture (and for people looking for cheap furniture that was still in great shape), Buchmiller opened The Consignment Center in 2015 in the former Tony Roma’s building across from Kahala Mall. When that building was demolished, he moved the store to Kaka‘ako for a stint before settling into his current location near McCully.
There’s never enough space for everything Buchmiller wants to sell. Fortunately, the lighters don’t take up too much space. “The Dunhills, I’ll put on eBay or try to sell online. These local lighters, I’d like to sell to local folks,” he says. “These places may be gone but the lighters are from Hawai‘i. Let’s keep them here, you know?”