Harold Aiu's sons bought 13 cases of Miller Lite over the weekend. By Monday, they had to make another beer run. Their father was beloved by so many, it was a nonstop party at their house for days.

Friends and relatives converged on the family home in Kaua'i's Wailua Houselots to share memories of the masterful cowboy and consummate gentleman. The family had to put up three big tents to accommodate the crowd.

"And when they come, we have to feed them. We have to get out the guitars," son Bobby Aiu says. And beer, even though Harold Aiu himself didn't drink or smoke.

"Newcomers or old-timers, he was a friend through and through," son Joey wrote in a remembrance.

Harold Sung Wa Aiu was a revered horseman who won the title of all-around cowboy for Kaua'i eight times. He was still competing in rodeos into his 80s. He died July 5, two days before his 89th birthday.

A memorial service for him is being held this morning at St. Catherine Church in Kapa'a.

He was born on Kaua'i, the eldest of seven children of Eugene Aiu, an attorney, and Alice, a seamstress and cooking teacher. As a young man, he learned about raising cattle from his uncles. Though he was a horseman, in his heart, he was a dancer.

"Oh, he loved to dance," Bobby said. "When he was young, he used to go to all the community dances. That's how he met my mom."

Aiu married Juliet Kanoa, who is my father's cousin, in 1947. He honed his cowboy skills with members of her family. Her father was ranch foreman at Kekaha, and Aiu would go with his father- and brother-in-law up to Koke'e to catch the wild cattle. He made $15 per head, though much of the work on the treacherous mountain roping wild bulls was dangerous.

He worked as an accountant for Hawaiian Canneries in Kapa'a for 20 years before the pineapple operation shut down. Following that, he became executive deputy for Kaua'i Mayor Raymond Aki, then was Kaua'i's port director for U.S. Customs for 39 years. Aiu also leased land in Wailua, where he raised cattle for beef.

He later started entering rodeos, where he was a consistent winner. He competed in Oklahoma, Oregon, Nevada and California. In 1995, well into his 70s, he won the century team roping at the Makawao Rodeo.

In 1999, he was one of the first to be inducted into the State of Hawai'i Paniolo Hall of Fame. He was also inducted into the Kaua'i and Ni'ihau Cowboy Hall of Fame, and after 60 years as a cowboy was honored as a Living Treasure by the Kaua'i Museum.

Aiu loved roping with his sons, but also enjoyed working with other skilled horsemen. He started out as the "header," the one responsible for roping the steer's head, but switched to be a "heeler" because he found catching the back legs more challenging. State Sen. Clayton Hee became Aiu's roping partner 20 years ago. Though Aiu was in his 70s and quite a bit older than his partner, Hee was in constant admiration of his skill and his spirit.

"He never complained," Hee said. "He was so grateful to be on a horse."

Hee remembers Aiu catching accounting mistakes at jackpot roping competitions.

"It never failed," Hee said. "We would hold the jackpot roping on a Saturday, Sunday. Monday morning, the phone would ring. My wife would answer and he would say, "Lynn, this is Harold ... and we knew." — he had discovered an error in what he was paid.

Aiu used the accounting skills he learned at Hawaiian Canneries all his life, and was working on clients' taxes until the day he died. He always did taxes by hand. His children tried to introduce him to the computer, but his way was better.

His way was old-fashioned, born of necessity, honed by tireless practice.

"They bought their house in 1950, and all there was was the cement slab and the frame," Bobby said. "He built everything in this house. Cabinets, windows, doors, plumbing, electricity. And no power tools. All by hand."

And though he was a rugged cowboy, a disciplined accountant, a devout churchgoer and a self-made man, he was always smiling, always spoke gently, and was loved by friends who, even in his death, sat around the house he built to tell stories about him for hours.

"One of his sons told me his father was the kind of person that the day was done when all the tools were put away and everything was clean," Hee said. "That's the kind of man he was. The epitome of a gentleman."