Han Ook Scoble
Han Ook Scoble was quiet, reserved, and understated, always honest, generous, solid as a rock, stable as a mountain, and a good friend to all of us, strong, wise, and loyal. He had a gift for seeing all the details, the full breadth of the world around him, and also to be able to see ahead, over the horizon.
Han Ook was born in 1952 in Honolulu to David and Esther Scoble. His Father, David, an orphan, grew up near Boston, served in the Navy and moved to Honolulu upon discharge. David had prominent and influential cousins on Oahu and Kauai, but made his own way. Esther Won was born in Hilo, studied at dePauw University before moving to Honolulu. David met her on a bus and never let go. Han grew up in McCully, a blue-collar neighborhood just across the Ala Wai Canal from Waikiki. Han’s uncle Oggi met Auntie Kimi in Tokyo when he was in the Army during the Korean War; they married, and joined the culturally rich Scoble household, later giving Han a young cousin, Allen, now a jazz saxophonist. Soon thereafter, Han Ook was joined by his younger brother, Han Yong, now an engineer. Uncle Oggi, a gifted special-ed teacher, educated Han about life, helping him to learn to swim by having him jump off the end of the Wall, the jetty at the popular body-boarding spot; Han made it ashore. Home-made paipo boards, body boards, followed. Day care cost a dollar a day; Dave dropped Han off at the Ala Moana Beach Park in the morning with a dollar in his hand and picked him up on his way home in the evening. The dollar fed him and friends at the concession stand. Han mostly surfed Courts and Concessions, taking responsibility and directing the other kids in the line-up, or defending friends and turf when needed. At that time, China Uemura ruled the South Shore, and took Han into his crew. When China started a surf club at the Beach Park, he entrusted a young Han be its secretary and treasurer.
Han attended a Lutheran school and then moved on to high school at Punahou, one of the finest schools in America; several surfing legends taught there; others graduated from its halls. Punahou is also noted for its non-surfing graduates, such as Sun Yat Sen, founder of modern China, and Barrack Obama. Han, a goofy-foot, competed, but realized that that he was not in the class of seniors like Gerry Lopez or up and comers such as Michael and Derek Ho. The board he really wanted was a Dewey Weber Performer, he eventually saved up and got one shipped out from California, it would be an extremely valuable board today. But, the shortboard revolution had arrived; Han stripped the fiberglass off, cut it down and reshaped it in his parents’ garage, now up in Manoa, getting white foam dust everywhere, and fiber-glassing it himself. It wasn’t a great success, but it led to more. He saved money to buy a car that; this meant that he drove the crew around the South Shore and the North Shore.
When Han finished high school, he became a surfboard shaper, opened a surfboard factory and shop in a corner of his Father’s warehouse, just off Ward Avenue, close to the Ala Moana Beach Park; he practiced Kung fu, worked out and ran around with friends Michael Yim and Richard Takashima; none of them had transitioned from school to college, but all achieved. A blown-out eye socket, surfing, meant that Han was ineligible for the draft. He built and raced hot-rods, sometimes not on a drag-strip, but on the unfinished H1 freeway, amongst other illicit venues. One of his boards was featured in a local TV news segment; another innovation was the first ever ‘Stinger’ design; it didn’t perform the way that Han wanted it to, and he abandoned the concept; but, his shaping-bay neighbor ran with it. Decades later, when Han would surf or watch the waves on the North Shore, surfers, casual acquaintances or former champions, would walk up to him to talk story.
Han went on to UH Manoa, proudly driving his hot car just a few hundred yards from his parents’ home towards UH, parking as close as possible, but then having to walk as far again. A wise local dentist mentored him, and Han entered the USC School of Dentistry, a beacon of restorative dental excellence. He moved on to its Graduate Prosthodontics residency, where he was mentored by the iconic Jack Preston, and learned as much as he could from all those around the program. As well as making lifelong friends at USC, he met an orthodontic resident, Ingrid Rangel, who became the love of his life.
After completing his residency, Han practiced in Beverly Hills and taught occlusion at USC, fastidious in wax and gold, before marrying Ingrid and moving to her native Venezuela where he practiced prosthodontics for a few years in Caracas, doing all of his own lab work. Although they greatly enjoyed living in Venezuela, they decided to move back to LA, where they brought up their own family, Alexander and Estephanie. Ester and David followed Han and his Brother, to live in Southern California. In recent years Han and Ingrid delighted in the company of their grandchildren, nieces and nephews.
While a full-time professor at USC, Han became Director of its vaunted Graduate Prosthodontics program. Han’s sharp eye saw all the details of his residents’ work, but he only called out when necessary, when a certain line was crossed, and then with a certain weight. He was deeply gratified by students’ growth and accomplishment. After a half dozen years, he tired of university politics and practiced full-time on Roxbury Drive. His approach was low-key, in keeping with his reserved nature; he treated many of the great and the good, the renowned and the famous, but treated them exactly same way that he treated everybody else, no nonsense, and that they all appreciated.
He was a dentist’s dentist; he did his own diagnostic wax-ups, trimmed his own dies, mounted his own casts, reshaped, adjusted and added porcelain at each stage. Yes, Han was as picky about waves, and surfboard shapes, as crown margins and contours. More than anything else, he was shaped by his native Hawaii, family and friends. His patients and colleagues appreciated his integrity, wisdom, technical excellence and unparalleled clinical care. Although understated and reserved, he had a wicked sense of humor that could simultaneously shock, amuse, and charm. His family and friends loved him for being their generous and immutable anchor.
SNW