These days a simple nod of the head is more trouble than it's worth, but Michael Nakamura has other ways of clueing you in to the joke.

"Hey," he says, darting his eyes in his wife Carol's direction. "Have you met my daughter?

A wet chuckle gurgles in his throat as he sinks into a conspiratorial tone.

"She looks so much younger than me," Nakamura says, "people always think she's my daughter."

A smile breaks across Nakamura's face as he frees one of his great deep laughs. And it's that laugh more than anything that assures you there is much, much life left inside that sagging body.

It's laughter — along with faith and not-so-common courage — that has sustained the former Honolulu Police Department chief as he's faced the indelicate advance of spinal muscular atrophy, the degenerative disease that is slowly rendering his body immobile.

The disease, related to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (Lou Gehrig's Disease), has severely weakened the muscles in Nakamura's shoulders, hips and back, leaving him unable to walk.

Complications from a hit-and-run accident a year ago have taken too much of what was left. Nakamura can no longer lift his arms to feed himself. He relies on his wife and family to shave and bathe and dress him.

Nakamura still has limited use of his fingers. This allows him to use his cell phone (with an earpiece) and operate the controls of his scooter. But his command is tenuous.

"I need my wife or my son to help me put my hands on the controls (of the scooter)," he says. "If I went out by myself and my hand dropped off the controls, I'll be stranded until someone came along to help me."

These are not small developments. These are losses that test faith and kill the spirit and break apart families. But not for the Michael and Carol Nakamura, and not for their two sons Reid (36) and Keola (29).

Nakamura's mind is as sharp as ever. He remains a loving husband and father. He still cares deeply about his friends and neighbors. He laughs as easily and as often as he always has.

"He's the same person," says HPD Maj. Debora Tandal, a longtime friend and colleague. "It's been difficult seeing all of the things he's gone through, but even now he's still the same down-to-earth, caring person. He hasn't changed."

Tandal has a favorite story from her days as Nakamura's administrative aide: The two of them are on a business trip in Idaho. Its freezing. The only good thing about being there is they don't have to worry about all that day-to-day business at the office. But Nakamura keeps looking at his watch.

Finally, Nakamura decides its time. Figures it's a decent hour back in Hawai'i. He can make the calls now.

"When he was chief, he used to call every person in the department on their birthday," Tandal explains. "He'd get a printout every day with the names of everyone who had a birthday, and he'd try to reach them at home or at work just to wish them happy birthday.

"I didn't think he would still do it on the trip, but he did," she says. "He had to go out to the car in the cold, but he wanted to do it. He was excited about it."

To Tandal, there has always been just one Michael Nakamura.

"A lot of people have two faces," she says. "But who he was on the job and who he is as a person has always been the same. He always looks at things in a positive way. That's rare, especially in our job where it's so easy to get cynical with all the things we see."

... GO FORTH TO SERVE

Nakamura was raised in Kalihi and graduated from Farrington High School in 1965. His father was a carpenter, and his mother worked at Love's Bakery and a neighborhood grocery store.

Nakamura was still a teenager when his father, Stanley, started showing symptoms of what was then believed to be ALS. Nakamura now believes his father suffered from spinal muscular atrophy, as he does. Stanley Nakamura died in 1978 at the age of 59.

"ALS is very rapid," Nakamura says. "What I have is not as fast moving."

It was while he was attending Farrington that Nakamura met Carol, a McKinley student, at a YMCA dance. It was also at Farrington that he adopted the school motto — "Enter to learn, go forth to serve" — as a commitment for his adult life.

Nakamura joined the Air Force after graduation and served for four years. He spent the following year working construction and serving as a guard at the Halawa prison facility while waiting to enter the police academy.

He started his police career working in the dispatch and records departments and moved on to patrol work in Waikiki, Wai'anae and Pearl City. From there he moved on to the Criminal Intelligence and Enforcement Unit.

"My goal was to do as much as I could and attain whatever rank I could," Nakamura says. "I never thought about becoming chief. I just didn't want to waste my given abilities."

Nakamura was a captain when then-chief Douglas Gibb decided to retire in 1990.

"I took the exam for the job because I thought it would set an example for my kids that at least Dad tried, and I wanted to see how far I could get," he says.

"When I made the cut at 10, I thought, 'This is getting serious,'" he says. "When it got to four, I got scared."

Nakamura ultimately beat out 43 other applicants for the post. His first priority, the one that would define his tenure as chief, was to bring the department closer to the communities it served through community policing and other cooperative programs.

"I wanted to bring the department and the community together as one," he says. "We're not separate, we're part of this island. That (idea) translated to how we talked to the public, and that I think was important."

Nakamura says he was already experiencing the early stages of his disease when he was named chief. It started with stomach cramps and a lack of flexibility, and progressed to the point where he had difficulty climbing stairs and walking long distances.

For most of his term as chief, Nakamura was able to keep his condition under wraps. But then, at a D.A.R.E. program graduation at a local school, he was asked to come to the stage and address the crowd.

"By that time the condition was starting to take its toll and I couldn't go up the stairs to the stage because there were no railings," Nakamura says. "So, I apologized and said I didn't wish to say anything."

A parent at the graduation mistook Nakamura's decision not to address the crowd as a snub and excoriated him in a letter-to-the-editor.

At that point, Nakamura knew he couldn't keep his secret any longer.

Nakamura first broke the news to the people under his command ("I didn't want them to find out about it in the paper or see it on TV") and later began making public appearances in his scooter.

While his final year as chief was marred by the conviction of a Pearl City sergeant for abusing prisoners and by a pair of sexual harassment lawsuits within the department, Nakamura remained a popular figure in retirement. He taught administration of justice classes at Honolulu Community College and served on the boards of the MDA Hawai'i, the Blood Bank, the American Diabetes Association and Hawai'i Centers for Independent Living. He also served on the Board of Education.

A SHARED EXPERIENCE

Of the four types of spinal muscular atrophy, Type IV (adult onset) is the rarest and least understood. It affects only men and typically manifests after age 35. The progressive loss of muscle function is usually very gradual, though in some cases can accelerate rapidly.

The disease is hereditary. Nakamura's two brothers, Morris and Glenn, have also been diagnosed with it.

"We have each other to lean on," Nakamura says. "We share equipment and experiences."

Nakamura has also learned to draw strength from the broad (if often overlooked) community of Hawai'i residents who live with disabilities, as well as the specialized agencies that support them.

Along the way, the former police chief has become an outspoken advocate for the rights of the disabled. One of the goals in his unsuccessful campaign for the City Council three years ago was to improve services for Honolulu's disabled community.

"I remember asking him once why he was running," says Alvin Noguchi, who met Nakamura while riding the Handi-Van. "He told me that he felt he still had a few productive years left and he wanted to serve the community. That was very inspirational to me."

The two have become close friends, often spending afternoons together hanging out at the Town Center of Mililani, across the street from the Nakamuras' home.

"His struggles are so much bigger than mine," says Noguchi, 50, who suffers from a hip disorder and diabetes. "If I were in his situation, I'd take a cruise around the world. But he just wants to help people."

'SIMPLE ACCIDENT?'

Nakamura says he doesn't remember much about the Sept. 29, 2004 accident on Lanikuhana Avenue that nearly killed him.

"I was in my scooter going home across the street," he says. "I saw a white car approaching too fast. I tried to reverse and then I got struck."

The collision left Nakamura with two broken legs. The fractures released fat emboli into Nakamura's system, which led to mini-strokes that affected Nakamura's arms and legs.

The driver, Anthony Grant Pearce II, initially fled the scene then later returned and was arrested. Grant pleaded no contest to a felony charge for failing to stop after the accident. He also pleaded no contest to a charge of driving without a license.

The Nakamuras say all has already been forgiven.

"There is no anger," Nakamura says. "He came to visit me right after, but I wasn't conscious. He brought a vase with flowers, and I still have it. I'm glad he took responsibility for what happened."

Nakamura says he is still bothered by comments Pearce's attorney Victor Bakke made during the proceedings.

"He called it 'a simple accident,'" Nakamura says. "I'd like to know what 'simple' is. I don't know what that means."

BLESSINGS

Carol Nakamura pushes firmly on her husband's shoulders so he can lean forward and relieve the miserable pressure at the base of his tailbone. This is what happens when he sits too long.

"He gets tired fast," Carol says. "That's why we don't accept a lot of invitations."

They take one day at a time now. If Nakamura is up for it, they might visit a cultural fair, or make an appearance at a charity event, or take in a UH volleyball game. But many days are spent just like this, hanging out with friends in the bright, air-conditioned deli area at the Mililani Star Market.

Before the accident, Nakamura would head out on his own in the morning — by scooter and Handi-Van — and return in time for dinner. Now he needs constant accompaniment.

Until very recently, Carol assumed nearly all of the caregiving duties herself — with help from Keola. But now, with respite visits from a host of friends and family, she's finding time for herself again, a few hours here and there to volunteer at their church or do a bit of aerobics.

Nakamura's cousin comes a few times a week to help him shave and bathe. Old high school classmates Amy Saito, May Thomas and Harriet Matsumoto stop by regularly to spend a few hours with him. So does hairdresser Amy Nakasone.

"We're blessed to have so many nice friends that come and give time to relieve me," Carol says. "They do it because they love him and they don't expect anything in return."

The Nakamuras speak often of their blessings — even those that seem difficult to appreciate. They accept Nakamura's illness as a sort of blessing because it prepared him for the even greater difficulties he would face after the accident. They insist the accident itself brought it's share of blessings because it drew the couple even closer to friends and family and deepened their faith.

The unlikely and unshakeable positive attitude that Nakamura exudes, then, has nothing to do with blind faith or denial, or even that most curious side-effect of the disease — a bright and sociable disposition. It has everything to do with the conscious decision Nakamura and his wife make at every turn to reject cynicism and despair, and recognize hope and grace.

"To be honest, (spinal muscular atrophy) is not a disease with a cure," Nakamura says. "If I don't have another accident, then I will continue to progress and there will probably be respiratory and breathing problems — although I have no idea when that will be."

Reach Michael Tsai at mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.