Last week I wrote about Aloha Airlines and our commitment to covering the personal stories of employees affected by the abrupt end of passenger service.

Then I heard from Kristen Foster of 'Ewa Beach, born and raised in Hawai'i, who, at 25, was one of the 1,900 who lost their jobs. Kristen, a customer services instructor for Aloha's training and development department, wrote an eloquent eulogy to her former employer. While I'd always heard Aloha's workforce felt like family, Kristen's poignant letter gives great insight into how it feels to suddenly lose that family. It was also unusual for someone so young and with a relatively short history working for Aloha to have developed such intense company loyalty.

Here is Kristen's e-mail:

"I've finally gotten around to reading some of the Aloha Airlines newspaper articles. I've been avoiding them, for fear that I will only succumb to tears that show how much I'll miss going into work each day, seeing my friends, the customers I've gotten to know and the familiar surroundings of Aloha. I never thought that five years ago when I accepted a position at Aloha, I would be a part of its 61-year-long legacy, nor could I ever imagine this.

"For about a week now, I've been hesitant to answer my cell phone, basically avoiding my voice messages altogether. The morning paper pile is going down. I pull the articles about Aloha aside, keeping whatever I can in order to hold on to the memories making sure that Aloha is not forgotten. I've stopped watching the news since March 31. I tried to limit my television viewing and if I do muster enough energy to watch television, I cry the moment I hear our theme song and see the nostalgic Aloha plane in the commercial. I just can't help feeling so proud to call Aloha my 'ohana and yet so sad to see what's happened to it. I tell myself to change the channel but I can't. I want to see my friends and their smiling faces. It helps me remember the day we took those shots for the commercial and how much fun we all had.

"I tell myself that things are going to be OK, but I know that things will never be the same. The view from the living room window has a breathtaking view of the island, but it's missing something. Something that glimmers bright orange and makes a statement when it passes by. A loud roar, telling all of Hawai'i Aloha has arrived. The skies of Hawai'i just aren't the same.

"Everyone asks me if I'm OK. I lie and say that I'll be all right, but my fiance knows better. 'You need to grieve,' he tells me. 'It's OK. You'll never forget Aloha; it lives in your heart. Who loves their jobs? Who works hard to support the community?' I know what he's trying to do. 'We do,' I say with a soft smile. This makes me feel better.

"As I stand there in my front yard I can't help but think how I ended up at Aloha. It was six years ago I suffered my first layoff with United. I cried over that too, but not for the same reasons as Aloha. United didn't have the warm family atmosphere like Aloha did. My co-workers and I weren't that close. In fact I can't recall any of their names. I doubt anyone even knew I was missing.

"Then I saw the ad in the Sunday paper; Aloha Airlines was looking for part-time contract workers. While I was looking for another job, Aloha wasn't looking for just another employee. They were looking for someone to carry the Aloha spirit with them, someone who could be a part of their 'ohana.

"Little did I know then that by accepting a position at Aloha, I would make close friends, volunteer for many community projects, work my way up from a part-time $6-a-hour position to establishing my career by becoming an airline instructor. The senior agents would laugh at me, telling me that I was too hyper. I just didn't realize it then, but they were proud of me. Proud to see someone from the younger generation who was just as passionate about Aloha as they were. Without Aloha, I would never have known the value of hard work and how sometimes proving your worth to yourself is much more valuable than proving it to everyone else.

"I pull myself out of my daze and look down. There, my engagement ring sparkles in the sunlight and once more I am reminded of how much Aloha has given me. Without Aloha I never would have been able to experience new things such as travel and I would never have met my fiance. He's not only my greatest support, but the biggest Aloha fan next to me. I know our future will be bright just like the colors of our Funbird as it sets off into the island sunset.

"As I look into the sky I see our cargo plane coming in to land and once again memories of the Honolulu terminal come rushing back. This time, the sadness is lessened. I'm slowly coming to terms with our closure because I know deep down that Aloha will never die. The spirit of Aloha lives here in our hearts. It always will.

"I believe the stories of Aloha employees are yet to be told. I wish there was a way we could bottle it all up for safekeeping so that the next generation could be able to cherish it. There are so many of us that put years into making Aloha what it is. I just felt like I had to reflect on my own experience to help remind myself that if it wasn't for Aloha I wouldn't have made it this far. Even though Aloha has flown its final flight, I am honored and proud to be able to call myself an Aloha Airlines employee."

Kristen is still looking for a job. Let's hope that someone else takes a chance on someone who embodies that Aloha spirit.

Mark Platte is senior vice president/editor of The Advertiser.