After living 40 of his 56 years on the street, Jonathan Keli‘ikoa finally got a one-bedroom apartment on April 2 through the Institute for Human Services.

Keli‘ikoa loved the first home he’d ever known since high school and meticulously kept it clean. But 40 days later, the same IHS outreach specialist who initially discovered Keli‘ikoa lying injured in his own filth in a Chinatown park found him dead in his kitchen in the Punchbowl area. A broom and dustpan lay nearby.

“He was cleaning the kitchen,” said outreach specialist Jason Pang, who originally found Keli‘ikoa and visited him nearly every day at his apartment.

Keli‘ikoa’s death from unknown circumstances represents both the successes and limits of IHS’ efforts to get some of the most troubled of Honolulu’s homeless into their own homes through the city’s Housing First initiative.

IHS workers knew that Keli‘ikoa had undiagnosed mental health issues, continued to drink and use drugs, and suffered from lots of medical issues that made it hard for him to walk — including an untreated infection in his left leg, the need for hip and knee replacements, and a chronic limp from failing to get medical treatment after being hit by a car.

Keli‘ikoa’s charm and humor could also quickly descend into anger, especially when he was drinking.

But the point of Housing First is literally to “house them first,” and address other issues later, said Connie Mitchell, IHS executive director.

“Almost immediately, people start to make healthier decisions,” she said.

The Medical Examiner’s Office has yet to determine why Keli‘ikoa died, pending the outcome of toxicology tests.

No matter what the cause turns out to be, IHS considers Keli‘ikoa among its success stories since it was awarded a $2 million contract from the city in November for its Housing First initiative.

“It was a very successful situation,” said IHS spokesman Kimo Carvalho. “He was happy and moving forward and working toward a more sustainable lifestyle not involving alcohol and drugs and bad behaviors. Even though we weren’t finished with Jonathan and there was a lot of work to be done, giving someone pride and investing in people — especially those who are most vulnerable — that’s what our job is all about.”

For the fiscal year that ends June 30, IHS already has found permanent housing for 1,410 people — 70 of them through the Housing First initiative, Carvalho said.

Keli‘ikoa grew up in the Papakolea Hawaiian homestead “and had already been drinking from an early age and had failed at school,” said IHS chaplain Terry Yasuko Ogawa. “He didn’t want to face his mom so he didn’t go home. His relationship with his family soured, and he just never had a home again. He probably suffered from psychosis and anxiety that was never treated and he was self-medicating.”

Keli‘ikoa spent most of his last years sleeping in Chinatown’s Dr. Sun Yat-sen Park next to the Hawaii Theatre.

To homeless people who live there, the park is also known as “Lionsgate” or “Turtle Park.”

“He was a cool man,” said Micah Ahdosy. “He was my best friend. We lived on the streets together. We watched each other’s back.”

Keli‘ikoa spoke to almost everyone who passed by and one day two years ago struck up a conversation with a young woman who turned out to be his longlost daughter who had been looking for him.

“He said he was from Papakolea and I said, ‘My dad’s from Papakolea, too,’” said Makanani Keli‘ikoa, who’s now 33. “He said, ‘Eh, Makanani. You’re my daughter.’ He broke down crying. He was real skinny. I knew he was an alcoholic, but I didn’t know he was homeless.”

Makanani Keli‘ikoa was taken from her parents and raised by her great-grandmother and never knew her father. After they were reunited, she visited her dad every morning and evening on her way to and from work, and often brought him food, beer and cigarettes.

“My dad never asked me for anything,” Makanani Keli‘ikoa said. “I said, ‘For Christmas, what you want?’ He said, ‘I like you stay with me on Christmas Day.’”

So she spent last Christmas Day — and night — with her father among the other homeless who sleep at Dr. Sun Yat-sen Park.

Ahdosy and Jonathan Keli‘ikoa did not see each other much after Keli‘ikoa moved into his apartment on ‘Iolani Street in April.

In his new home, Keli‘ikoa found a support group among three other former homeless people who also were placed by IHS in the same complex.

Even though they did not see each other as often, Ahdosy was happy that his friend was moving in a positive direction.

“I don’t believe he’s gone,” Ahdosy said. “I really miss him.”

On Thursday, IHS and St. Mary’s Episcopal Church organized a 30-minute memorial service for Keli‘ikoa in Moiliili.

Fifteen social workers and homeless people attended the service, which included Scripture readings and the singing of “Amazing Grace.”

Laura Manzano, IHS’ housing specialist, spoke about the moment Keli‘ikoa got the key to his new apartment.

“He said, ‘I have not had a key in 42 years,’” Manzano recalled. “It meant everything to him. We cried for five minutes. He hugged me for five minutes. … Then we realized it was the wrong key.”

When the service at the church ended, the homeless mourners were invited to attend a drop-in center for a haircut or food organized every last Thursday of the month at St. Mary’s.

But the main point of bringing everyone together to mourn Keli‘ikoa was to honor a life spent almost entirely on the streets that finally ended in a home.

“The opportunity to serve Jonathan reminded many of us that every life among us in this community matters,” Mitchell said. “He touched many lives, both among the homeless and among those that helped him. It’s pretty amazing how a homeless man could give so much. Or maybe the lesson is that we ought to expect to be blessed by anyone we meet — especially a homeless person.”