Pictured above is our family team during their visit to Kalaupapa. Top row, left to right: Brian Dillon, his wife and my cousin Millie, her brother Stanley Chong, Stanley’s cousin Reggie Fung, and Reggie’s daughter Jennifer. Bottom row, left to right: my mo‘opuna Hayden Butler, son Matt Dill, daughter Katie Johnson, and nephew Thomas Chock.
At the risk of drawing the story too far out, I return to our family’s unfolding discovery about our kūpuna who were sent to Kalaupapa during the latter years of the 19th century. In previous blogs, I gave short accounts of discovering that our kūpuna were buried in Kalaupapa and that their presence at the site was during a “spike” in admissions, subsequent to the passage of the Bayonet Constitution of 1887 and concurrent with the flurry of land decisions in Hawai‘i supporting the development of the plantation economy at the end of that century. The latter process of land acquisition probably resonates with most Hawaiian families, for they suffered the most loss in this “consolidation” process. The courts were used to acquire land from people who did not understand the slippery slope of western land tenure.
During the two day visit this May, our family team identified the graves of relatives who had previously been unknown to the family. Though we believe we know the location of the grave of Hana Pelio Kapakahi Kukailani (my grandmother’s aunt), we have not been able to verify it due to the ravages of weather and waves. In any case, it has opened up a large window into the lives of our kūpuna, the struggles they faced, and the courage they modeled. It has sparked a long simmering desire to finally document the family’s genealogy and then sort out in detail the amazing adventures our kūpuna took during their lives.
Below are some thoughts and drawings of family team members that emerged from their two day visit to the past. Enjoy and reflect. Blessings.
Katie
The sacred silence of sorrow greeted each of us as we walked among the graves. Graves, a faint remembrance of the suffering, the life of someone’s brother, someone’s mother, someone’s someone. As we tentatively searched and moved around over crumbled headstones, our connection to the land and to the buried, began to come alive. There, in the midst of the dead a story, our story, came alive.
It began months ago as emails flew back and forth filled with ideas, thoughts, plans and the beginning of a story. Thoughtful planning and endless hours of work brought a ragtag group of misfits together on a hot day in May, searching for more of the story of us.
As we walked together through the graveyards of so many forgotten, we began to find what we never knew was lost. The lives of those we never knew were part of the fabric of us all.
One by one the graves of Umi, Kapoli, and Tommy were found. Hands touched, leis were laid, prayers and thanks were spoken and all were blessed. The silence, sacred and beautiful in its simplicity, carried the words that could not be formed. Unspoken but understood was the primal language of connection. In the past, Kalaupapa may have taken loved ones, but on this day, it gently gave them back.
The profound impact of Kalaupapa is truly beyond words. It can only be found in the story of each life buried on this peninsula of Moloka‘i. We may have found the beginning of our story, but in the depths and crevices of this land lies more. By finding these stories, we, as people of Hawai‘i, discover our connection to the past, our connection to each other, and our way forward together.
Hayden
I thought it was incredible to get insight into the lives and immense pain the people of Kalaupapa faced. Being there to see all the history of the place and see how people coped with their struggle and somehow managed to create a life in bleak circumstances, was really moving. I was really humbled to have the opportunity to be in the places they lived and learn about such amazing people.
Thomas
For much of my life, Kalaupapa was just a story I heard about but never considered to be a part of my story. I had gone as far as I could with my mo‘okū‘auhau (geneology) on both my father’s and mother’s sides of the family and well, I just assumed that I had hit the brick wall. But when I moved back to Hawai‘i after 20 years away and reconnected with ‘ohana (Uncle Jan), it opened up the floodgates of information for me. It was a tremendous surprise to hear from Uncle Jan that I do have ‘ohana ties to Kalaupapa.
How have I never heard this or known this? Finding out I had one ancestor there was a surprise. So you can imagine how it felt to find out as I was preparing to go on a huaka‘i to Kalaupapa (mahalo Uncle Jan for including me), and with help from new friends associated with Ka ‘Ohana O Kalapuapa, that I actually have at least THREE ancestors there: two from my father’s side, one from my mother’s side.
The moment I set my eyes on the peninsula from the plane, I felt something special about what I was seeing. I choose to believe that the land itself, along with the spirits of my ancestors and the mana and aloha that dwells there, was reaching out to me. Maybe not necessarily to welcome me, but certainly to let me know that this wasn’t just another “field trip.” Stepping off the plane and setting my feet on the ground there only magnified the feeling.
For some reason I was given the responsibility/opportunity to both read a pule (ma ka ‘ōlelo Hawai‘i) and lead the group in singing Ho‘onani (the doxology in Hawaiian) at the various graves we visited as well as at the site of the memorial. Humbling. Made me feel my inadequacy in Hawaiian ‘oli and protocols.
Twice, during our time there, I took the opportunity to walk around Kalaupapa by myself. It’s so quiet there. It’s beautiful. It’s also a place that you just know has so many stories to share. I wish I could have spent more time there and just “talk story” with people. I only got to meet and shake hands with one patient. I should’ve been more courageous and since I brought my ukulele, gone to kanikapila with someone, anyone there.
It’s clear that Kalaupapa is a special place. Will it remain so? There are 10 patients remaining. When the last one passes, what will happen to the peninsula? Will Kalaupapa end up being another battleground like Kaho‘olawe or Mauna Kea have been for the lāhui? I don’t know. I hope we all get the chance to know this place before another piece of Hawai‘i’s history fades and becomes another entry in a history book.
Words really can’t capture what my first experience in Kalaupapa was like nor what it means to me. I’m still processing it now, over a month later. What I can say is that I want to go back. Soon. I want my wife, who is not Hawaiian and did not grow up in Hawai‘i, to experience this place. I want my hapa kids who also didn’t grow up in Hawai‘i to have a chance to spend a night (or more) there to feel of the mana of the place. To reconnect with our ‘ohana, our kūpuna, and gain understanding of who we are and where we come from.
Matt
The first feeling I had, which hit me hard and heavy and remained with me throughout my stay at Kalaupapa, is that I AM HAWAIIAN. I AM KANAKA MAOLI. I am the ocean waves, hitting the coastline relentlessly. I am the rugged cliffs that stand proudly over Kalaupapa, protecting and always watching over her. I am the wai of the rivers trickling out of the valleys and crevices, nurturing the land and its people. I am the bright, hot kala that shines down with life giving energy. I am the strong and never ceasing makani, which sweeps through the land and sea as it cleanses, strengthens, cools everything it touches. I am the kalo and the naupaka, feeding, nourishing, and healing anyone in need. I am the strong ‘opihi, forever clinging to and washing the shoreline of any impurities. I am ALL of these things, and ALL of these things are me. I am Hawaiian. This is my home. This is my kuleana. This is my life. This is my purpose.
In this world and society we live in today, these thoughts rarely, if ever, even brush the outer edges of my consciousness. Daily life makes us focus on problems, responsibilities, frivolous endeavors and aspirations. Kalaupapa readjusted my whole spirit and being’s focus and awareness in an instant, like the snapping of Akua’s fingers.
As we spent time exploring, adventuring, and learning during the trip, we heard just a handful of the patients’ life stories and journeys, of before they came to Kalaupapa and after they were established and permanent residents. One thing that I noticed and became aware of, is how amazing and unique each of the individuals were and are. With only so many people living in such an isolated place, these patients despite their differences, were forced to live, interact, and get along with one another for the rest of their lives. In any given day how many people do we have the chance to interact with? Hundreds? Thousands? We are programmed to pick and choose our interactions. If someone looks strange, or is dressed in a way that automatically classifies them as someone we probably won’t like or connect with, we avert our gaze, look straight ahead, and walk on by. That person(s) will likely never be seen again and will not have any impact whatsoever on our lives. The people in Kalaupapa didn’t have the choice we have, to approve or deny anyone. They were in it together, for good or for bad. These patients were actually blessed in that regard. I guess the lesson I am trying to illustrate is that humans are beautiful. We all have a spirit. We all have stories. And we all have a wealth of unique knowledge. I read a quote before this trip, I am not sure who said it but it went something like this: “Every single person you meet, every single day of your life, knows something that you don’t.” Life is a learning process, every single day. That’s one of the beautiful blessings in our lives. We are so quick to shut out, discount, and exclude people from our lives. Who knows what positive blessings and valuable knowledge we are missing out on by just walking on by? So think about it… How well do you know your neighbor? Aside from a few words of greeting, what have you learned from the people you work with every day? What are you missing out on? What do they know or have experienced that could change your life? I learned not to prejudge anyone, and to keep an open mind.
I am extremely sensitive to the feelings of certain places I explore throughout this world. Whether it’s a spiritual sixth sense to the history of places, or just an awareness of the overriding energy, I am not sure. I have explored many remote and historical areas, especially all over Hawai‘i island, where I call home. Be it the great valley of Waipi‘o, or the long, arduous hike in the Volcanoes National Park for a three day adventure to Halapē, each place has a rich history and distinct feel. As I have heard said many times by the old timers and historians, our islands are a graveyard and the spirits of our kūpuna and ancestors are everywhere. Not all of these places have a positive or bright historical tale connected to them. There are ancient scenes of atrocities, wars, genocides, cannibalism, basically everything bad you can think of, along with all of the triumphs and stories of prosperity. As good as the human spirit and history can be, it can be also very, very bad. While on my sojourn to Halapē especially, there were areas I traversed through where the hairs on the back of my neck literally stood on its very ends. I had an overwhelming feeling of fear, anger, and unexplained discomfort. With no living being or thing within thirty miles that could possibly cause these feelings of negativity, I knew the energy and spirits residing there were the cause. I was expecting (but hoping for the contrary) something similar at Kalaupapa. There are graves EVERYWHERE on that peninsula, many of them unmarked and disturbed after years of weather and tsunami events. I felt a very powerful spiritual feeling. The mana was thick in the air, at times almost taking my breath. To my surprise, as strong as the energy of the spirits were everywhere we went on Kalaupapa, it was an overwhelming feeling of peace, love, and joy- especially when we found the tombstones of our ‘ohana. The feeling was incredibly uplifting and positive. The spirit of the patients who were sent there, lived there, and died there, were and are pure and pono. Aloha reigned through all of their bodily illnesses and struggles. Their spirits were happy and content.
The last lesson I would like to discuss is that of Aloha ‘Āina. I have been to many isolated places in my life throughout the island chain, but Kalaupapa is a place that was used to exclude and intentionally cut off and remove a disease from our population. It is still remote and cut off from the rest of the world. The workers and residents can fly or hike in and out, but the barge with necessary provisions for the people there comes ONCE a YEAR. What that creates is a heightened sense of awareness regarding what you really need to live. Everywhere else, if we are in need of anything, we drive or stroll down the road and find a store to buy it. We punch some buttons on our computer or phone, hit up Amazon or something similar to get anything our heart desires. So we don’t worry. We don’t look around us and see what’s important. We don’t value our environment. Throw your rubbish wherever you like, let the weeds grow over land that could be cultivated and harvested. Build skyscrapers that leach poisons and toxins into the soil and the ocean. Why worry? Your food is coming from thousands of miles away. No problem… But what if? O‘ahu, the island of my birth and upbringing, is BLOWN. I read somewhere that the whole of the island’s population would starve if the barges ceased to arrive for just four days. What if you had to grow, cultivate, and catch your dinner. What if your waste and garbage poisoned your Christmas feast? That would create a different way of looking at things. That would change your frame of mind. This land and the oceans surrounding us provided sustenance for all of the people for generations upon generations before us. That required awareness, good stewardship, hard work, and responsibility on every level. Nothing was wasted. That’s what the residents of Kalaupapa had to do and still do to this day. We live in a society of wastefulness and disregard for our lands. It’s so sad. I know that my stewardship and respect for the ‘āina has gone up exponentially after this trip. For that I am forever grateful, and I will never take my home for granted. I am the land and the sea. The land and sea is me. I am Hawaii. I am HAWAIIAN. Mahalo Kalaupapa for your mana‘o and perseverance against all odds.
Aloha Kalaupapa.
At Low Tide 