Kalaupapa: A Collective Memory

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The publication of this book was made possible

through sponsorship of the Native­Hawaiian

Center of Excellence, John A. Burns School of

Medicine, University­of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. Par-

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reau of Health Professions, Division of Health

Careers, Diversity and Development.

 Kalaupapa
A C o l l e ct i v e M e m o ry

Anwei Skinsnes Law

with a foreword by
Bernard Ka‘owakaokalani Punikai‘a

A Latitude 20 Book
UNIVERSITY OF HAWAI‘I PRESS
honolu lu
 © 2012 University of Hawai‘i Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
12 13 14 15 16 17  6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Law, Anwei Skinsnes.

Kalaupapa : a collective memory / Anwei Skinsnes Law ; with a
foreword by Bernard Ka‘owakaokalani Punikai‘a.
p. cm.
“A latitude 20 book.”
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-8248-3465-4 (hardcover : alk. paper) —
ISBN 978-0-8248-3636-8 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Leprosy—Patients—Hawaii—Kalaupapa—Social conditions.­
2. Kalaupapa (Hawaii)—History. I. Title.
RC154.5.H32K346 2012 614.5'460996924—dc23

Chant “Lele Uli” (To Dispel Darkness) © 2010 Makia Malo.

University of Hawai‘i Press books are printed on acid-free paper­

and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the
Council on Library Resources.

printed by edwards brothers, inc.

designed by julie matsuo-chun

Cover photos

top center bottom

• A group of young residents. Clockwise • The book of names compiled by Father • Kapoli Kamakau, composer and musician.
starting at top left: Pilipo liilii, John Vin- Damien and Ambrose Hutchison in 1884 Photo by M. Dickson, courtesy of Hawai‘i
cent De Coito, unidentified friend, Willie for Queen Kapiolani. Courtesy of the State Archives.
Wicke, Peter Akim, and Kahawai Kaiehu. Hawai‘i State Archives. • John Cambra, sixty years after he was sent
A. Law Collection. • The Makanalua peninsula, commonly to Kalaupapa in 1924. Photo by Wayne
• Jessie Kaena with her husband, Joseph, known as Kalaupapa. Photo by A. Law. Levin.
who accompanied her to Kalaupapa as • Kalawao Coast. Photo by Wayne Levin
a kokua. Courtesy of the SS.CC. United • Mother Marianne Cope at the Kapiolani
States Province. back cover Home for Girls, Honolulu, 1885. Detail of
• Haumea Kaaumoana, musician and Father Damien near his church and house at photo, A. Law Collection.
ocean swimmer. Adapted from photo, Kalawao. Photo by Dr. Eduard Arning, c. 1884,
courtesy of Hawai‘i State Archives. courtesy of Hawaiian Historical Society.
 This book is dedicated…

With respect, to the memory of J. N. Loe, one of the first

twelve people relocated to the Kalaupapa Peninsula in 1866,
who sought to radiate the light of truth about himself and
others­who had been forcibly sent so far from home;

With love, to the memory of David Ono Kupele, who was

determined that the history of an estimated eight thousand
individuals who were forcibly sent to Kalaupapa, at least
90 percent of whom were Native Hawaiians, including five
generations­of his family, would be remembered;

With a heart full of thanks, to all the people of Kalaupapa,

who have radiated kindness and hope, each in their own
unique way, to the people of Hawaii, the nation, and the world;

And to my family, who have given a lifetime of support to

this book, especially my parents, Dr. Olaf and Elizabeth
Skinsnes,­my husband Henry, my daughter Lian . . . and my
most treasured friend, Olivia.
 Contents

ix
Foreword by Bernard Ka‘owakaokalani Punikai‘a
xi
Preface

Part I. What Shall Be Done? (1866–1883)

3 1. Perhaps They Are Just Left There: The First Twelve People Arrive at Kalawao­
15 2. The Thoughts of the Hawaiian Family Have Been Aroused:
Two Cultural Responses­to Leprosy
27 3. Not of the Hawaiian Culture: The Onset of Starvation and Political Activism­
41 4. Siloam’s Healing Pool: Early Leadership at Kalawao
53 5. Misfortune and Great Sorrow Has Beset Me: William Humphreys Uwelealea­
63 6. With Heaviness of Mind: Jonathan Hawaii Napela
73 7. His Dying Words Were “A Little Poi”: Peter Young Kaeo
87 8. You Could Not Wish for Better People: The Arrival of Father Damien
101 9. Steaming Hot Coffee: Ambrose Kanewalii Hutchison
115 10. Damien with the Sparkling Eyes: Music, Kindness, Celebration
127 11. A Different Circle: Mother Marianne Cope and the Sisters of St. Francis

Part II. What Is Proper and Just? (1884–1901)

141 12. “Kaumaha Nohoi” (Deep Sorrow): Queen Kapiolani Visits Kalaupapa
153 13. Indignity Keenly Felt by All: Experience in the Lahaina Prison
161 14. I Am Not Guilty: Keanu and Dr. Arning
169 15. “We Will Take Care of Him”: Father Damien Is Diagnosed with Leprosy
179 16. Ways That Are a Little Exceptional: Joseph Dutton and Father Conrardy
189 17. Seriously Consider What Is Proper and Just: Effects of the Bayonet Constitution
199 18. Kapoli Brought Flowers: Kapoli Kamakau
213 19. Nunc Dimittis: The Death of Father Damien
225 20. Unforgotten in Our Hearts: Kaluaikoolau, Piilani, and Kaleimanu
237 21. We, Your Nation of People, Will Survive: Queen Liliuokalani and the Hawaiian Kingdom­
251 22. The Soul of This Land: Robert Kaaoao and Thomas Nakanaela
265 23. It Is in Your Power to Make All Things Right: The Quest for Self-Government

Part III. From Generation to Generation (1902–1929)

281 24. Entitled to Every Consideration: Mr. McVeigh and Dr. Goodhue
297 25. The Fourth of July, 1907: Jack and Charmian London Visit Kalaupapa
313 26. No Place to Honor This Man: Elemakule Pa and the Federal Hospital
329 27. We Called It Ohana: The Bishop Home
339 28. “O Makalapua”: The Death of Mother Marianne
347 29. From Generation to Generation: David Kupele and Ben Pea
363 30. Chaulmoogra Oil—Hawaii’s Message of Renewed Life: Alice Kamaka and Rosalie Blaisdell­
373 31. A Blending of Souls: Tandy MacKenzie, Adeline Bolster, and Maria von Trapp
381 32. Every Night We Have Music: John Cambra, Kenso Seki, and the Baldwin Home
393 33. The Suffering Was on Both Sides of the Fence: “Fence-Jumping” at Kalihi Hospital

contents    vii
Part IV. A Time of Evolution (1930–1945)
405 34. A Union of Cooperation: Wilhelmina Cooke Carlson and Minerva Ramos
413 35. Another Good Man: The Memoirs of Ambrose Hutchison
425 36. Suddenly the Whole World Changed: Twenty Stories of Separation
437 37. So Friendly: Pearl Harbor and Life at Kalaupapa

Part V. To See This Place Stay Sacred (1946–Present)

455 38. Always This Line of Separation: A Cure, Barriers, and Lawrence Judd
471 39. Courage and Refusal to Quit: Richard Marks and the End of the Isolation Policy
485 40. A Quest for Dignity: Bernard K. Punikai‘a and Hale Mohalu
495 41. “My Name Is Olivia”: Kalaupapa’s First Author
503 42. To See This Place Stay Sacred: The Education and Inspiration of Present and Future
Generations­
515 43. Changed in One Day: The Restoration of Family Ties

535 Acknowledgments

541 Notes

559 Bibliography

565 Index of Names

573 Index of Subjects

viii   contents
Foreword

The question of who we are or what we are comes from our life at Kalaupapa. All
of us deserve the opportunity that we have earned over the years to tell our story.
The idea is that the stories I tell to people, they mean a lot to me. My story is the
story that connects my life. It goes back to the day I was admitted as a patient. I was
six and a half years old. That was the hardest thing for me. There I was without my
Mama, without my family.
My family was my Mom. My Mom loved me and she wanted to come as often
as she could to visit me. I looked forward to the day when I would see her and hold
her and kiss her. I was living for her. For me, that was the hardest part of my life—
living without Mama. Without her I was nobody.
I remember when Mama came down to see me at Kalihi Hospital for the first
time. She couldn’t come inside. I could see the tears running down her face. She
wants to hold me and she cannot hold me. It was like I broke the law because I had
the disease. To feel the touch between a parent and son—that’s the thing that many
of us lost. To be away from my family was the hardest thing that ever happened­
to me.
This story of separation from our families is the story that belongs to most of
us—to all of us. This story comes from the heart. Without my Mom, I was a little
kid without somebody to be my backup. I was eleven years old when I was sent to
Kalaupapa. That was very traumatic. I didn’t know how to handle it. But, although
I didn’t know the people at Kalaupapa, they became my friends. They became­my
family. They made a difference in my life. I cherish those memories—not only
the time we spent together, but sharing those memories with you. Without the
memories,­there wouldn’t be anything left.
Our history, the story of the people who have lived and died at Kalaupapa, can’t

ix
be separated from the rest of Hawaiian history. It affected the political, the social,
and even the economic concerns of the government. I don’t think you can put it
on the side and say, well, it was just a page. I think it’s more than just a page in the
history of Hawaii.
I am proud of our people who, although they were taken away from their homes
and families, went on to make a difference in their own lives and in the lives of so
many others. This is our story—a story to be remembered, a story to be treasured,­a
story to be held close to your hearts.

bernard ka‘owakaokalani punikai‘a

Composer, Musician, Community Leader,
International Human Rights Advocate

x   foreword
Preface

On November 11, 1902, Haumea Kaaumoana posed for the standard photo at
Kalihi Hospital, designed to show the physical effects of leprosy on an individual.
Rather than cross her arms in front of her chest in the usual manner required to
show the condition of her hands, Haumea held her guitar.1 Through this simple
action,­she refused to let herself be defined by a disease or by how others chose to
see her. She chose to define herself as a musician rather than as a “patient,” to focus
on her ability­rather than any disability she might have.
When the Territorial Legislature gathered testimony at Kalaupapa in 1901
related to the possibility of self-government, Thomas Nathaniel (whose Hawaiian
name was Nakanaela), Kalaupapa’s forty-three-year-old schoolteacher, magistrate,
composer, and friend of King Kalakaua and Queen Liliuokalani, requested an inter-
preter so that he could speak Hawaiian. Using his English name, he stated, “I can
speak English, but I want all the people here to understand.”2 Thomas Nathaniel
knew that if he spoke English, no one would translate his words for the two hun-
dred residents of Kalaupapa gathered in the meeting hall, most of whom spoke only
Hawaiian.
During World War I, Ambrose Solomon Kahoohalahala and his wife Lillian­
Awai joined more than a hundred other people at Kalaupapa to contribute $248
to the Red Cross to be used toward relief efforts in Europe. Although the Maui
News characterized this as “one of the most remarkable and touching incidents of
the great world war,” they also stated that the contribution represented “a sacrifice
which they should not be permitted to make, however willing they might be to do
so.”3 The editorial went on to suggest that if in the future the people of Kalaupapa
wanted to assist the Red Cross, the island of Maui would “cheerfully endeavor to
raise, in their name, such sum as they may feel they would like to send forward.”

xi
Haumea Kaaumoana, described as an “ocean swimmer,” was eighteen
years old when this photograph was taken at Kalihi Hospital in 1902.
Adapted from photo, courtesy of Hawai‘i State Archives.
 Two and a half weeks later the Maui News reported that the people of Kalau-
papa had purchased $4,255 worth of War Savings Stamps and intended to purchase
more.4 In August, they carried the headline, “The Settlement Sets an Example” and
reported that Kalaupapa was “likely to be the first community in the Territory to ‘go
over the top’ for War Savings Stamps,” with $12,511 already sold. This represented
about $20 per person, whereas the Territory of Hawaii as a whole had bought “per-
haps less than $5.00 worth of stamps per capita.”5
The residents of Kalaupapa who refused to let others decide what they were or
were not capable of doing included the Kahoohalahalas, each of whom contributed
seventy-five cents to the Red Cross. David Kamahana, who knew Father Damien,
contributed $10 together with his wife, Alana Ahlo. Willie Wicke, readily identifi-
able in photos as a young Caucasian boy holding his hat, gave $1, and Louis Aloisa,
one of only nine people to ever volunteer for treatment at the Federal Hospital at
Kalawao, contributed fifty cents. John T. Unea, a schoolteacher who conducted the
first U.S. Census at Kalaupapa, gave $1. Ben Pea, who was sent to Kalaupapa in 1914
and would live there until his death in 1983, also contributed $1, as did Elizabeth
Louisa Thielemann De Coito who, as a young girl of twelve, attracted the attention
of Jack and Charmian London.6
In about 1927, Ambrose Hutchison, who had been sent to Kalaupapa in 1879,
started writing his recollections of more than a half century of life at Kalaupapa.
He included a song written by the boys at Kalawao about Father Damien with the
sparkling eyes that spoke of righteousness and peace.7
The people of Kalaupapa have been speaking to us clearly and definitively
for more than 145 years. The objective of this Collective Memory is to bring those
voices back into the history of Kalaupapa, the history of Hawaii, and the history
of the world. The book you have before you combines quotations from more than
two hundred hours of oral history interviews with archival documents, including
more than three hundred pages of letters and petitions from the early residents of
Kalaupapa and Kalawao that have been translated from Hawaiian. This book strives
to enable people to define themselves and their experience, in their own words, as
much as possible.
It has been suggested that I write a little about my relationship with the resi-
dents of Kalaupapa and other individuals who have experienced leprosy in order to
give you some background about the evolution in thinking and understanding that
has led to this book as it appears today.

preface    xiii
Nellie McCarthy speaks about her experience and her Clarence “Boogie” Kahilihiwa, elected president of Ka
hopes for the future of Kalaupapa at a meeting of Ka ‘Ohana O Kalaupapa in 2009, discusses his vision for
‘Ohana O Kalaupapa. Photo by Henry Law. the future at a meeting of that organization.
Photo by Wayne Levin.

In 1952, as the people of Kalaupapa and many others around the world were
being cured with the miraculous sulfone drugs, I was starting my life in Hong Kong.
One of my most vivid memories is visiting the island of Hay Ling Chau at Christmas.­
Hay Ling Chau had been established in 1951 as a place where people with leprosy
were to be isolated. Even though there had been a cure for leprosy since 1941 and
it was recognized that this was an extremely difficult disease to contract, society’s
reaction to leprosy was basically the same as it had been for thousands of years. Hay
Ling Chau was not created because there was a medical need to separate people.
It was created because society simply was not willing to substitute new scientific
knowledge for old traditional beliefs.
When we went to Hay Ling Chau, we took the Ling Hong, which towed behind
it a small boat carrying people who had leprosy. This was done to make the public
feel safe, without any concern for the feelings of those who were forced to ride in
the separate boat.
In high school, I found myself in Hawaii and first went to Kalaupapa when I
was sixteen, more than forty years ago. It was a day trip and I was taken to sit in on

xiv   preface
a clinic. All I remember about that day is the personality of Alice Kamaka. When
she entered the room, you knew you were in the presence of someone unique and
truly remarkable, someone who refused to let either a disease or people’s precon-
ceived ideas compromise her identity. She had been sent to Kalaupapa in 1919 and
would go on to gain distinction as being the person who would most likely live at
Kalaupapa the longest—some eighty-one years.
On future visits, Richard and Gloria Marks would sponsor me, and Richard
showed me what seemed like every inch of the peninsula. His love for the history
radiated to all who met him, from stories of Father Damien’s church, where I would
later be married, to the legend of the naupaka flower, which told of the separation of
two people in love. Richard also took me to Alice’s house, and she was the first per-
son to invite me into her home, something that was forbidden in those days by the
rules—rules that we all knew were completely unnecessary. Alice introduced me
to her neighbors, John and Lucy Kaona. John emphatically showed how one must
always look at disability in the context of ability, and Lucy remains an unwavering
example of unconditional love.
Alice also introduced me to her lifelong friend, Mary Sing, who had been sent
to Kalaupapa in 1917 and well remembered raising money for the Red Cross in
1918 as part of the “Rainbow Drill.” On one visit to the old hospital, which has since
burned down, Alice introduced me to her good friend, Olivia Breitha, who had
been stung by a scorpion. Little did I know that Olivia would become one of my
best friends and see me through some of the most difficult times in my life.
In the late 1970s, I started going to Kalaupapa more regularly. After one of
those trips, I received a call from Brandt Air in Honolulu telling me that they had
a large box for me. It contained a whole stalk of bananas from David Kupele’s yard.
To me, he was a legend, someone who had been at Kalaupapa forever, someone
who had personally known Mother Marianne and other major historical figures,
someone who had learned through his genealogical research that five generations
of his family had been sent to Kalaupapa, starting in 1873. I doubt that David ever
knew how much those bananas meant to me, or how much he encouraged me with
his thoughtfulness.
I would continue to feel the kindness of the people of Kalaupapa as I started
seriously working on learning this history. The fact that people who had so much
taken from them could express such generosity and richness of spirit made a deep
impression on me. I would never leave without gifts—gardenias from Mariano Rea’s

preface    xv
 yard, old photographs from John Cambra, newspaper articles and history maga-
zines from Danny Hashimoto, Kalaupapa pens from Ed Kato, recipes for marsh-
mallows and Portuguese bean soup from Olivia Breitha, T-bone steaks from Mary
Kailiwai, papayas and beef jerky from Paul Harada, paintings and ceramics from
Elaine Remigio. One year there was a shortage of Christmas trees in Honolulu and
a good chance my family wouldn’t get one. John Kaona took me to the grounds of
Letter written by Alice the old Federal Hospital and found me a beautiful branch. He then gave me a wine
Kamaka on the back of the bottle that he had decorated with shells to use as a tree stand. That Christmas tree
label of a can of peaches. has traveled with us from Kalaupapa to West Virginia to New York, a reminder of
A. Law Collection. John’s remarkable creativity and friendship.
Visiting Kalaupapa is always a lesson in resourcefulness
and creativity. Once I got a letter from Alice written on the
back of the label of a can of peaches. When you dropped by
Kenso Seki’s garage after lunch, you would find him making
vases and lamps out of coconuts, which he always gave away
to visitors. Cathrine Puahala and Rachel Nakoa organized a
Festival of Trees each Christmas, and the ornaments created
out of everyday items were amazing. Cathrine even made
angels out of Vienna sausage tins. She had the remarkable
ability to see potential in absolutely everything.
During the day, one could always stop by Winnie and
Paul Harada’s and rest on their lanai with the offer of a diet
Coke to go with the enduring friendship and wisdom that
emanated from these two individuals, who celebrated their
fiftieth wedding anniversary in 2005. In the evening, we
would gather at the bar. Rosie Lelepali would bring healthy
snacks of carrots to go along with the beer that Mariano Rea
would serve us. The music would sometimes go past mid-
night, as we listened to Rosie and her husband Edwin play
songs like “O Makalapua,” with Henry Hatori and Fred Mc-
Carthy on the ukulele and Georgie Kahoonei on the washtub
bass. Castle Kalaukoa would sometimes be there to dance
hula. As one drove out of town to the airport, Helen Keao
would always be waiting on her porch to wave and shout
goodbye.

xvi   preface
 Those of us lucky enough to spend time at Kalaupapa in those days recognized­
that this was history—this had to be recorded for the future. With an initial grant
from the Hawaii State Library for the Blind, we started an oral history project, which
was later supported by the National Park Service. The wonderfully creative Gene
Balbach knew how to make everyone feel comfortable as he videotaped people’s
history, personalities, talents, and wisdom. We defied traditional theories that you
could only do oral history if you were “trained,” that you shouldn’t use videotape,
and that you had to know the right questions to ask. Instead, we simply brought
people together and listened to what was important to them. At the same time,
Wayne Levin captured people’s personalities­and dignity in beautiful black and
white portraits. We all talked about how the oral history would enable the people
of Kalaupapa to continue to be the interpreters of their own history, even when they
were no longer physically with us.
Sometimes you have to go away from a place to truly understand its signifi-
cance. You have to go away from a place you think you know in order to see how
much you still have to learn. It was time to leave Kalaupapa—and Hawaii.
I was now married to Henry Law, the first National Park Service employee at
Kalaupapa and the first superintendent of Kalaupapa National Historical Park. One
of the last things we did before leaving Kalaupapa in 1988 was to go to the Inter-
national Leprosy Congress in the Netherlands, together with several people from
Kalaupapa. Henry Nalaielua and Richard and Gloria Marks made poster presenta-
tions, while Bernard Punikai‘a and Bill and Makia Malo presented papers in the
“scientific” sessions. Upon hearing that they were going to speak, one doctor asked,
“What are their credentials?” People who had personally experienced leprosy were
clearly not seen as part of the process. People who had spent their lives in isolation
due to public health policies that sacrificed the rights of individuals for the welfare
of society were treated as if they had nothing to say, nothing to contribute.
In 2002, we moved to Seneca Falls, New York, the birthplace of women’s
rights in the United States and an important center for the antislavery movement. I
realized­that, like most people in our country, I had not been taught anything about
women’s history in school. I was fascinated to learn how women traveled to the
World Anti-Slavery Convention in London in 1840 and how the men decided that
they could attend, but only if they sat separately and did not speak. The men clearly
did not believe that the women had anything worthwhile to contribute.
We moved to Seneca Falls in order to better understand how we could place

preface    xvii
Henry Law, the first Rose Lelepali being interviewed­ by Anwei Skinsnes­ Law and Gene Balbach as part of the
National­Park Service Kalaupapa­ Oral History Project. Photo by Wayne Levin.
employee­at Kalaupapa
and the first superin-
tendent of Kalaupapa
National­Historical Park.
issues facing people affected by leprosy into the context of human rights in general.­
Photo by Anwei Law. I was now the international coordinator of the International Association for In-
tegration, Dignity and Economic Advancement (IDEA), an organization founded
in 1994 by fifty people from six countries, the majority of whom had experienced
leprosy themselves. IDEA was formed in order to ensure that the voices of people
affected by leprosy around the world would be heard, would become part of the
process, and would become part of their own history.
Coincidentally, or not, Seneca Falls is only an hour from Syracuse, the loca-
tion of the Motherhouse of the Sisters of St. Francis, which houses one of the best
archives on the history of Kalaupapa in the world. It was from here that Mother
Marianne and her fellow Sisters departed for Hawaii in 1883. As I started visiting
the Motherhouse regularly, the bond that has existed between the Sisters of St.
Francis and the people of Kalaupapa for well over a century was readily apparent.
In rereading documents I had read more than twenty years earlier, I was struck
by how much Mother Marianne and Sister Leopoldina had told us about so many
of the women and girls they knew. Research conducted for the Cause of Mother
Marianne by Sister Mary Laurence Hanley and others had added more voices of the

xviii   preface
people of Kalaupapa to this history.
At the same time, I was reminded
that Mother Marianne and the other
Sisters are so often treated as minor
figures in Kalaupapa’s­history—a
history­that had been largely written
by men.
It was time to come back to this
book.
I now had a better understand-
ing of how easily people can slip
into anonymity and out of their own
history. I spent a month on Robben
Island in South Africa, where the
maximum security prison in which
Nelson Mandela was imprisoned was built on top of the graves of people who had Winnie Harada (far left)
leprosy. We learned how people in Kenya had been buried in “secret” sites without and Valerie Monson visit
dignity, without a place in their family history.8 Oral history conducted in Romania,­ Sister Wilma Halmasy and
Sister Rosanne LaManche
Latvia, and Ukraine taught us how people with leprosy had been killed during the
at the Motherhouse of the
Holocaust, something that I had not seen recorded in histories of leprosy or in his-
Sisters of St. Francis in
tories of the Holocaust.9
Syracuse, New York. Photo
I also paid more attention to something I was told years ago—that I had a
by Henry Law.
relative­named Jens Helland who had leprosy and died at St. Jørgen’s Leprosy
Hospital­in Bergen, Norway, in the mid-1800s. The genealogy compiled by my
mother and her great-uncle Andreas enabled me to start my own search for in-
formation on Jens, someone we knew existed, but about whom we knew little else.
In going back to documents in the different archives that I had looked at
twenty-­five years earlier, I began to see people I had not noticed before. It was
amazing how the remarkably detailed records preserved by the Department of
Health, the Hawai‘i State Archives, the Sisters of St. Francis, and the Congregation
of the Sacred Hearts could help bring people back to life and back into history. I was
also given a copy of the memoirs of Ambrose Hutchison that had been preserved at
the Sacred Hearts Archives in Louvain, Belgium. These were the words of an eye-
witness who had lived at Kalaupapa from 1879 to 1932. This was a man who used
to sit with Father Damien in his parlor and reflect on the families that they would

preface    xix
never see again. This was a man who gave Mother Marianne a cow and a calf when
the Sisters arrived at Kalaupapa so that the girls would have milk. This was a man
who held the top leadership position at Kalaupapa for ten years. This was a man
who had signed the Anti-Annexation petition and given $1,000 worth of fishing
equipment to the Board of Health. Yet, despite all his accomplishments and influ-
ence, Ambrose Hutchison had been largely left out of his own history.
As I looked anew at Kalaupapa’s history, it was extremely helpful to see that
others­were bringing to light new information about the people of Kalaupapa.
Valerie­ Monson,10 Pennie Moblo,11 Noenoe Silva and Pualeilani Fernandez,12 Kerri­
Inglis,13 Colette Higgins,14 and Esther Arinaga and Caroline Garrett15 were all
finding new ways to help generate a better understanding of the people sent to
Kalaupapa,­at least 90 percent of whom were Native Hawaiians. At the same time,
six people readily agreed to help translate more than three hundred pages of let-
ters and documents from the earliest people sent to Kalaupapa. Frances­N. Frazier,
Carol L. Silva, Jason Achiu, Esther Mookini, Linda Maka‘ala Warriner, and Malia­
Rogers­all worked to ensure that the voices of the earliest residents of Kalaupapa
could be appreciated by those of us who only speak English.
Including the voices of the Hawaiian people sent to Kalaupapa who wrote so
eloquently in their own language reveals something extremely significant. The let-
ters are filled with pleas to keep family members at home or requests to accompany
them to Kalaupapa to take care of them. The letters enable us to understand that
Native Hawaiians actively engaged in a form of nonviolent resistance to isolation
policies that were not consistent with their culture. They refused to reject people
or allow them to be sent away alone because they were sick. They refused to accept
policies that separated families. Their letters and petitions reflect a profound belief
in justice that is repeatedly expressed in requests to government officials to simply
consider what was right.
Those who wrote the letters referred to themselves by using phrases like, “We
the people sick with leprosy” or “We the people overtaken by the leprosy disease.”
They would refer to themselves as “people” first. However, translations done in the
past tended to simply use the word “leper,” and thus the “people” were lost.
The people have been lost in many traditional histories of Kalaupapa and, con-
sequently, they have been defined, usually inaccurately, by the preconceived ideas
and imaginations of people who never knew them. In one of the first oral history
interviews we did at Kalaupapa, Helen Keao sat in Siloama Church and said, “I have

xx   preface
read and I have heard many stories about Kalaupapa and of the people that lived at
Kalawao . . . that the people who lived here were bad, that the land was without law
and the people were lawless, immoral, and they were engaging in a lot of wicked-
ness. But, I don’t think, in fact I don’t believe that all the people were bad because
I feel if that was true, then there would not be a church called Siloama, which was
the first church to be built here at Kalawao.”16
Board of Health reports and correspondence for 1866, upon which many his-
tories have been based, never mentioned how the earliest people sent to Kalawao
gathered together to establish a church in June 1866—a church that became a
vehicle­through which they sought justice.
As I was writing this book, I often thought of J. N. Loe, one of the first twelve
people sent to Kalaupapa on January 6, 1866. In one of his earliest letters, he asked
for a newspaper because they were living in darkness since they had no news of the
outside world.17 In writing to one of the Hawaiian language newspapers, he signed
himself “Hokuwelowelo,” which can be translated as “shooting star” or “comet.”18 It
is likely that he felt his words were a means of radiating the light of truth about the
situation he and others found themselves in—the truth about who they were.
It seems appropriate to use J. N. Loe’s symbolism to describe what happens
when you include the voices of the people of Kalaupapa in their own history. In
the words of Bernard Ka‘owakaokalani Punikai‘a, whose middle name, interestingly
enough, means “bright light across the sky,” “When you look at the photographs,
you see how a person looks. When you read their quotations, you see the heart of
the person, and then it becomes complete.”19

Author’s Note on Diacritical Marks

Diacritical marks (the ‘okina and kahakō) in current use to aid in the pronunciation,
spelling, and comprehension of Hawaiian words are not generally used in this book
because names and quotes are primarily from the time period before these symbols
were used. However, they are retained in quotations from modern sources and in
the names of individuals or organizations that have chosen to use them. The ‘okina
is also retained in some earlier sources where it was included to avoid misinterpre-
tation of a word.

preface    xxi
Part I What Shall Be Done?
1866–1883