The Once-in-a-Lifetime Moment Creating A Lifelong Mission & Purpose

The untold story of how I was graced with a divine glimpse of the future that changed me forever

Restarting Newlyweds Just Barely Scraping By

It was 1993, and I was a newlywed, back in Honolulu after a whirlwind adventure with my bride. We’d spent the last two years exploring the Big Island, driving across the mainland, even living in Chicago for a short spell. Pure, unfiltered adventure. But now, reality hit hard. We were crammed into a single bedroom in a tiny house in Kaimuki, sharing space with two other families. It was crowded, chaotic, and we were living on a shoestring. My wife worked as a rental car agent, and I’d landed a gig teaching Unix Administration at Honolulu Community College. Not a real course, mind you—just a night class, part of their continuing education program. I didn’t have a college degree, just a high school diploma, barely earned (I actually got an F in the computer class). We weren’t making much, scraping by, wondering where we would go from here.

Check Out This Really Cool Thing

One night, I’m at the college, prepping for my class. The computer lab was classic community college—fluorescent lights, sparse furnishings, portable classroom chairs, and old terminals scattered around like relics. Discarded printer stands and heavy worktables added to the bare-bones vibe. But there, in the middle of it all, was this glorious piece of hardware: a Sun Microsystems workstation with a massive 20-inch monitor. Monstrous for 1993. Ken, the lab director, was there, a big haole guy with a Southern drawl, totally localized—married to a local woman, steeped in island culture. Ken was a mentor, an innovator, the kind of guy who could see what was coming before anyone else. He’d built something special at HCC, and I owe him big time. That night, he waved me over. “Peter, come check this out. It’s kinda cool.”

Web Comes Alive With Dinosaurs

I walked over to his workstation, and Ken fired up this new software called NCSA Mosaic, the very first graphical browser that had just dropped in April 1993. He typed in “www.hcc.hawaii.edu,” the address for Honolulu Community College’s website—one of the first ever launched on the internet, certainly the first in the University of Hawaii system. The page loaded, and I was floored. It was a website of the campus with a clickable map to boot. You could click on buildings, and it’d take you to another page about that building. No one had seen anything like this. There was even a museum exhibit page with dinosaur pictures and audio clips playing—a full-on multimedia show. I’m standing there, jaw dropped, watching Ken click through. This was the birth of the web, and I was witnessing it.

Ten Thousand Hits - A Day

Then Ken pulled up something else: the web’s log files, primitive as they were in those early days. He showed me the numbers—10,000 hits a day. Ten thousand! People from all over the world were visiting HCC’s site, checking out this little community college in Hawaii. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “What the hell is going on?” I said, staring at the screen. Those hits weren’t just numbers; they were people, from everywhere, connecting to this tiny corner of the world. It was unreal, a glimpse of something massive unfolding right in front of me.

Yes, I See the Light!

At that moment, something clicked. It was like that scene in The Blues Brothers where James Brown, the pastor, shouts, “Do you see the light?” and John Belushi’s flipping through the church, screaming, “Yes, I see the light!” That was me. Ken was James Brown, and I was Belushi, doing backflips in my head. I saw the entire World Wide Web, not just HCC’s site, but the whole thing—its future, its potential. I saw how it would change everything, how it would bring Hawaii to the world and the world to Hawaii. No longer would we be isolated, stuck in the middle of the Pacific. The web was going to rewrite the rules, and I knew it right then. It was a moment of pure clarity, like the universe handed me a vision.

Hawaii Saves Me, Again

This wasn’t just a cool demo—it was a turning point. My wife and I were at a crossroads, barely covering expenses, no clear path forward. I’d just sold my stake in XenTec, the software engineering company I’d poured years into. No way was I crawling back there, tail between my legs. I was aimless, stuck, but that moment in the lab felt like Hawaii was speaking to me again, just like it did back in ’85 during my last-dollar days. Eight years later, that same faith—the belief that Hawaii always had my back—kicked in. I felt it. This was my shot, my purpose, and I wasn’t going to let it slip.

Even the Moon And the Stars Spoke

Later that night, I stood in the alley behind our little house on Second Avenue in Kaimuki. The sky was clear, stars blazing above. I looked up and made a vow. I was going to bring Hawaii to the web and the web to Hawaii. I’d do everything in my power to help this place embrace this new technology. It wasn’t just a business idea; it was a calling, a divine purpose. I felt it in my bones, like the islands were guiding me. That clarity, that fire, it wasn’t just about me—it was about doing something bigger, something for Hawaii.

CyberCom Conceived At That Moment

That night changed everything. It sparked the launch of CyberCom, my company that became Hawaii’s first and largest web developer. We were on the cutting edge, building the commercial web in the state. I was on magazine covers, doing TV news segments, radio spots, winning awards left and right. Peter Kay became a household name, the feral entrepreneur who saw the vision and dove in headfirst. We didn’t just build websites; we brought Hawaii into the digital age, proving that even a high school diploma with a shoestring budget could change the game.

Find Your Higher Purpose

The real lesson? Find the highest purpose you can and build a business around making it happen. That night in 1993, I didn’t just see a website; I saw a way to serve Hawaii, to connect it to the world. It wasn’t about the money—though CyberCom became a legend—it was about impact. That divine spark, that moment of seeing the light showed me what was possible when you align yourself with something bigger. I’ve gone through 7 startups and though each one had a varied degree of success, I’ve never again had that “Do You See The Light?” moment that I did in 1993. If you’re fortunate enough to find that purpose, you don’t just build a business—you build a mission that may well guide you for the rest of your life and achieve unimaginable success far beyond merely financial gains.