For three generations of Island music fans, Aunty Genoa Keawe was a voice and the face of Hawaiian music.

She was the real deal. A legend.

Who hasn't heard her hold that precious note, for two breathless minutes, as she sang "Alika," her signature song? Her twinkling eyes and radiant smile made the feat seem, well, easy. The show would not be pau until Aunty took that deep breath and dazzled us all with that looooooooooong note.

You might have heard it first on a recording or on TV or the radio, at a birthday lu'au, community fund-raiser or one of her many club appearances, in and out of Waikiki.

Her generous, compassionate old-school manners helped build her reputation as a bona fide link to Territorial Hawai'i, when lifestyles, needs and manners were simple. She provided a sense of constancy as she weathered the changes and challenges of modernity. She was a comforting reminder of all the good things about Hawai'i, and her persona made her the epitome of an aunty.

So her passing on Feb. 25, at age 89, gives the sense of the end of an era.

"She was a teacher, she was a student, she was Hawai'i," said Jon de Mello, CEO of the Mountain Apple Company and a lifelong friend of Keawe. "She gave us anything we needed in music. She lived it."

Said Hilo-based The Honolulu Skylark (Jacqueline Rossetti), an Internet radio personality and longtime Hawaiian music expert, "You grew up with her. Every halau was touched by her music. You just thought this woman would never leave us. All those years — playing music was important to her."

No one can quite remember when Genoa Keawe became "Aunty." But it was a badge of respect and honor, signaling acknowledgment that the veteran entertainer had soldiered through the rigors and ritual of a sprawling career and become a cherished and adored kupuna in the process.

"There will never again be anyone quite like Aunty Genoa Keawe," said Harry B. Soria Jr., a keeper of the music-of-the-territorial-era flame via his "Territorial Airwaves" broadcasts on radio and online. "After a lifetime of performing in numerous countries and countless venues, and recording her music on 78 rpm, 45 rpm, 33 1/3 rpm, cassette tape, compact disc and even mp3s, Genoa Keawe has simply become everyone's aunty."

STARTED IN 1939

Aunty Genoa was not always so famous. Her iconic status was shaped over the past two decades, as organizations and individuals realized how much of a treasure she was.

She became a professional singer in 1939, doing pre-World War II shows with the George Ho'okano band. A year later, on a dare, she called in on Johnny K. Almeida's radio show, to sing "For You a Lei" as a birthday dedication to a niece, earning on-air exposure. She made the first of many recordings in 1946 and launched her own label in 1966, winning awards and accolades for nearly seven decades.

She worked solo or with a combo, always cradling her 'ukulele and toiling like any other trouper, in Waikiki shows and on tour.

Mostly, she was a lounge performer — notably, for the last 10 years, a staple at the Waikiki Beach Marriott Resort (formerly the Hawaiian Regent) — though she also did roaming music for years, for diners and cocktailers at Duke's Canoe Club at the Outrigger Waikiki Hotel.

She frequented — and outlived — many nightspots. She played six nights a week at Club Polynesia; she was a staple at Aloha Grill, Kapahulu Tavern, Waikiki Tavern, Waikiki Sands, Sierra Café, Knights Inn, Steamboat's; they're all gone now. She had gigs at the Ala Moana Americana Hotel, when the hotel had a "brand" name, and at The Willows.

A mid-career entree to a younger generation of boosters who recognized her roots in and contribution to Hawaiian music was Peter Moon, the 'ukulele sensation who was a member of The Sunday Manoa and leader of the now-defunct Peter Moon Band. In the 1970s and '80s, Moon organized a series of "Kanikapila" shows at the University of Hawai'i-Manoa's Andrews Amphitheater, at the height of the rebirth of Hawaiian music in the Islands, as well as fundraisers for local canoeists at the Waikiki Shell, and he tapped Keawe to provide a genuine old-fashioned no-frills Hawaiian touch.

In gratitude for his aloha, Aunty Genoa and her manager-son, Eric Keawe, made regular visits to Moon, who has lived in a Honolulu care home since suffering a stroke several years ago. She would bring her 'ukulele and serenade him in an intimate private performance.

She lived in Papakolea, where music-biz peers, students and friends often stopped by to tap her encyclopedic knowledge of lyrics and melodies, and hear her memories from times past.

'OUR GO-TO GAL'

And she was always eager to kokua.

"Aunty Genoa was our go-to gal, anytime we had to reset our Hawaiian music," said Brickwood Galuteria, a deejay, friend and onetime Democratic Party chair. "She was an original. The past few years, it was almost like a second coming for her — she was all over the place, everytime you turned."

And she was generous in her help, particularly being supportive of budding young talents who might one day carry on the Hawaiian music tradition.

"She has helped so many of our young singers over time," said Marlene Sai, a recording artist and president of the Hawai'i Academy of Recording Arts. "This made me reflect when I was growing up; this woman embraced me. She was such an icon, a bigger-than-life woman. She was giving, very embracing. Always willing to teach. Because our culture, our music, and our existence must go on in perpetuity. This was what she was about. Besides having a grand heart and talent."

Kuuipo Kumukahi, long-time singer and friend, said Aunty Genoa was helpful to the end, even while hospitalized.

"I had prepared 'Ku'u Makamaka,' ... (one of) her signature songs, and she assured me I was singing the words right," said Kumukahi. "She was the one who knew all the right words. A whole era is gone in traditional Hawaiian music.

"Hopefully, we can continue to carry the torch for the next generation — to do for them what people like Aunty Genoa did for us. I took a picture with her; now I'm in a chronic state of void without her."

Reach Wayne Harada at wharada@honoluluadvertiser.com.