Wearing ti leaf and kukui nut lei, a geometric-print aloha shirt and shorts, his black hair pulled back in a ponytail, kumu hula Jack McKeague took the floor during his halau’s holiday luncheon and invited his students to come up and dance, maybe work off a little of the generous Pagoda Restaurant buffet.

Some of the 45 fit-looking, elegantly dressed senior women in the group rose and performed “Christmas Luau” and other Hawaiian holiday tunes with finesse and grace, backed by McKeague on ukulele.

“A lot of them are widows, and they come from all over the island, mostly by bus,” McKeague said afterward, glowing with pride for the members of his halau, Ka Lei Hulu Kupuna, which meets at Pauahi Recreation Center in Chinatown, where he has taught for 28 years.

He teaches keiki, as well, in Halau Ka Pa Hula o ka Lei Hulu Hiwa, based at St. John Vianney School in Kailua, where for 20 years he has sought to help young people “find and express their inner selves and perpetuate the Hawaiian culture,” he said.

The devotion and happiness he inspires in his young students led a parent, Roger Forness, to nominate “Uncle Jack” as a Hero Next Door. Forness is the Honolulu Star-Advertiser’s vice president/technology.

“Uncle Jack is truly like these kids’ second father,” Forness said, citing the individualized time and attention McKeague provides his 52-odd students.

They include St. John Vianney graduates who return to take his advanced class, such as his daughter Malia Forness and her classmate Raven Boneza- Solatorio, now freshmen at Maryknoll High School.

McTeague teaches that “Hawaiian culture is all about love and caring,” said Malia Forness, 14. “Uncle Jack is always there to care about every single kid in the halau.”

“He always helps you with anything you need,” said Boneza-Solatario, 15, “and he’s a living history book; my dad encourages me to learn as much as I can from him.”

In addition to hula, chants and legends, “Uncle Jack has taught me how to be more of a kind, loving person, to always share the aloha with everybody else,” Boneza-Solatario said.

McKeague, a former Ala Moana Hotel worker, began giving hula lessons when the hotel workers union asked him to teach retired members.

Married to Betty Mc­Keague, whom he met when they worked at the main post office at the airport, he started teaching at St. John Vianney when their daughters, Kahiau and Kulia McKeague, enrolled there.

His longtime mentor Puakea Nogelmeier, a University of Hawaii professor of Hawaiian language, named both girls and Mc­Keagues’ halau (he founded another, Hui Kamahoi, for adults with special needs, in Waimanalo after retiring in 2015).

He met Nogelmeier through Bill Char, the master lei maker, who was his hula brother when he started training with kumu hula Earl Pamai Tenn in 1978.

Tenn was kakoo (assistant) to kumu hula Henry Pa, composer Maddy Lam and hooponopono (to put right) practitioner Mornah Nalamaku Simeona, and all these loea (masters), Mc­Keague said, informed his understanding of hula, which “helped me find my inner self, purge all the negativity in a confusing world,” he said.

A longtime sadness had stemmed from his childhood in Palolo Valley, when he missed getting to know his only living grandparent, his paternal grandfather.

His grandfather had moved to the mainland after McKeagues’ grandmother, who had Hansen’s disease, died. His grandmother died shortly after giving birth to McKeague’s father in Kalaupapa, Molokai. The baby was left to be raised by his deceased mother’s parents in Honolulu.

Through studying hula and hooponopono, Mc­Keague said, he was able to feel balanced and whole.

“It’s the same thing I teach my kids. Kids need to become balanced, in these troubling times,” he said, pantomiming the use of a smartphone.

Like Tenn, his teacher, McKeague does not have his students compete, but they regularly perform. “The stage is my classroom,” he said.

He’s taken his keiki halau to dance at Disneyland several times; they also perform at local malls and the Kuhio Beach hula show.

And at the Pagoda his kupuna students had the air of seasoned performers as they danced, while their seated classmates waved their arms and sang along.

It recalled old-time family gatherings, when aunties and uncles would get out of their chairs and put on a show.

About this series: We recently asked readers to help shine a light on the good works of a few true unsung heroes. Readers responded with nominees from diverse walks of island life who share a common desire to help others. Star-Advertiser editors chose six Heroes Next Door who will be highlighted in stories through Monday.