A few months ago, I shared the start of a family journey of discovery involving ancestors who had been sent to Kalaupapa, the leper colony established by the Hawaiian Kingdom in 1866. When our Chinese relatives announced that they were going to revisit the grave of their grandfather Tommy Fung, I was reminded of family stories that claimed my tutu wahine’s great aunt, Hana Pelio Kapakahi, was sent to the leper colony under suspicious circumstances (primarily centered on the fact that she was suing Pioneer Sugar Co. in Lāhainā to reclaim land and, importantly, water rights owned by her deceased husband Joseph Likona Kapakahi). We had never pursued the issue and it seemed the visit to Tommy Fung’s grave might give us a chance to explore the fate of Hana.

Thanks to the great hospitality and help of Ka ‘Ohana O Kalaupapa, particularly Valerie Monson and the National Parks Ranger stationed at Kalaupapa, Kaohulani McGuire, our group of nine extended family members made their way to Kalaupapa on May 11^th and 12^th. All were overwhelmed by the beauty and majesty of Kalaupapa and Kalawao. Most of the big buildings have been destroyed, but a number of houses and churches remain.

Our Chinese cousins focused on revisiting Tommy Fung’s resting place while my son Matt, my daughter Katie, my mo‘opuna Hayden, and my nephew Thomas were faced with the challenge of finding the graves of Hana Pelio Kapakahi Kukailani, her husband Umi Kukailani (whom she married at Kalaupapa in 1891), and his daughter, Kapoli Kamakau. It’s amazing what you can set your mind to do when you don’t know what you’re doing!

The hospitality and support of Ka ‘Ohana O Kalaupapa and Ranger McGuire allowed our family expedition to achieve most of its goals. Tommy Fung’s grave was cleaned and decorated with the appropriate prayers in English, Hawaiian, and Haka. The graves of Umi and his daughter Kapoli were also cleaned and prayed over. Although the marked grave of Hana was not discovered, a grave next to Umi was assumed to be hers. The toll of tidal waves and neglect have destroyed or damaged most of the graves at Kalaupapa, so we are happy that some of the surviving ones include most of our kūpuna. Over 8,000 people were buried and only a small number of the graves are actually marked. It speaks to the need that Ka ‘Ohana O Kalaupapa is pursuing, to build a Vietnam type memorial with names for all those who lived and died there.

The outcome of the two days in Kalaupapa has been a deepening understanding and respect regarding the challenges our kūpuna faced during the turbulent days of the last decade of the 19^th century. Political, social, economic, and spiritual shifts were overwhelming the Hawaiian Kingdom and Kalaupapa was a dramatic microcosm of that period. With the imposition of the Bayonet Constitution of 1887 by the landed white elite on the Kalākaua administration, the expansion of plantation production kicked into high gear and land/water issues such as the one Hana and Umi were fighting with Pioneer became a part of many Hawaiian family histories. Some claim the leper colony became a solution to opposition from landowners to the march of corporate production, and point to the curious uptick of leprosy patients sent to Kalaupapa after 1887 (a good deal of them diagnosed by plantation doctors). It is hard to tie the causal knot, but it does create interest in actually sorting out the stories of our kūpuna in that place. It is probable that many other Hawaiian families also had members sent to the colony.

Subsequent to the May expedition we are discovering more information about Umi and Kapoli and about other rumored members of the family who were sent to the leper colony. Hana and Umi fought for the land and water rights in Kaua‘ula in Lāhainā but as they pointed out in their filings before the courts, they were at a great disadvantage due to their exile at Kalaupapa. The suit stayed alive until Hana’s death in 1904 when the land and water rights issues were transferred to Hana’s heir, Hattie Namo‘olau Ayers, my great grandmother. Upon Namo‘olau’s death in July 1907, an executor was appointed by the court at the request of Rosina Georgiette K. Dinegar, my tutu wahine’s sister and one of the daughters of Namo‘olau. The executor requested and selected by the court was her husband Dr. Robert H. Dinegar, the plantation doctor. The details of the sale were never made known to the family, but subsequent to the settlement, the doctor and his family left immediately for Albany, New York. They never returned. Life is messy, relentless, and often mysterious!

It is clear that this place has very special meaning to Hawaiians and to Hawai‘i. Through all of this is woven the stories of sacrifice and aloha of Father Damien, Sister Marianne Cope, and many others who ministered to the abandoned.  Unbelievable people of faith! (Historical note:  Sister Marianne Cope predicted that she and her fellow nuns would be protected from leprosy.  None ever got it.  She also sent all the schoolbooks back to Honolulu and demanded that Hawaiian language books be sent for the children.)

The more we scrape and stir, the richer the brew of personalities, human triumphs, tragedies, and unanswered questions!  Stay tuned for reflections on the trip from the Dill/Chock team.

I’d like to continue the saga of our ‘ohana’s upcoming adventure of discovery to Kalaupapa. As I mentioned in my last post, our pake (Chinese) cousins Stanley Chong, et.al., are planning to revisit the grave of his grandfather, Tung Shu Fung (otherwise known as Tommy Fung), the one-armed carpenter of Kohala. Mr. Fung had been sent to Kalaupapa in the 1920’s and died there in 1945. Because I believe we’re related to the Fungs through Amoy Chock Fung (his wife and my caregiver when I was growing up), we’ve joined forces and hope to be with the Fung clan at the former leper colony on May 11^th and 12^th.

Our side of the family, the Hawaiian side, has for years whispered the story of our relative Hana Pelio Kapakahi being sent to the leper colony because of a land/water dispute with the Pioneer Mill Company of Lāhainā. Thanks to records and other information provided by Ka ‘Ohana O Kalaupapa and Valerie Monson, we were able to confirm that Hana was sent to Kalaupapa in December of 1890 and subsequently died there in March of 1904. This simple fact triggered a growing fascination in understanding this special place and how our relatives got there. The more we learned, the more astonished I’ve been at this piece of Hawaiian and family history. It is a mystery, tragedy, and tale of triumph and deception all rolled into one. It is a journey I believe many Hawaiian families have taken. I say this even though we have only just begun the challenge of understanding and documenting it for ourselves and for the future generations!

Our ‘ohana “team” set for the adventure in May will include our Chinese side relatives: Stanley Chong, his sister Millie Dillon, her husband Brian (a for real professor of archeology), and two other Fung relatives. The Hawaiian gang will include: our daughter Katie Johnson, our son Matthew Dill, our oldest mo‘opuna (grandson) Hayden Butler, and our nephew Thomas Chock. The Fungs want to revisit Tommy Fung’s grave and we want to also find Hana’s grave and honor her memory. We were told that there is no clear record of her gravesite, but the story of Hana’s time at Kalaupapa gives us hope that we can find it.

Hana came to Kalaupapa at the end of 1890. On August 8, 1891, Hana married a man named Umi Kuka‘ilani, who was born at Kalaupapa and had returned there as a “kōkua” (caregiver) for a woman named Kapoli Kamakau. Come to find out, Kapoli was a dear friend and companion of Queen Lili‘uokalani and a co-author with her on several songs. Kapoli was also close to Princess Ruth Keʻelikōlani and Bernice Pauahi Bishop, both of whom left property and a stipend for her in their wills.

All of this tweaked my interest and reconfirmed the rumblings of my mother and uncle in years gone by, about our family’s relationship with Hawaiian royalty. Since most Hawaiians make this claim I had filed this assertion in the dead letter file of family fantasies. All of a sudden, however, our adventure to Kalaupapa was reviving this mysterious family tale and triggering several interesting questions to address. Who was this man Umi Kuka‘ilani and what was his relationship with Hana and Kapoli before Kalaupapa? Who was Kapoli and what was her relationship to the Kamehameha line? Finally, could we get a handle on the events that led to Hana’s banishment to the leper colony and was it related to the land/water issue that had haunted the family stories of the past?

We are just beginning the adventure, but the first pieces of the puzzle are amazing and encourage us to continue to try to understand this part of our family’s history. First, we have indeed found out that Kapoli Kamakau was a close friend of the Kamehameha family and the Kalākaua royal line. Queen Lili‘uokalani mentions her aloha for Kapoli in addition to writing songs with her. Princess Ruth, owner of the vast lands of Kamehameha that she later bequeathed to her cousin Bernice Pauahi, held Kapoli in high enough esteem to leave her a house and property in Honolulu in her will. Pauahi also considered Kapoli close enough to provide a monthly stipend of $40.00 in her will. It is obvious that Kapoli was esteemed and loved by her friends.

Who then was this man Umi? We were told initially that he was originally sent to Kalaupapa to be a caregiver for Kapoli. His sketchy records only state that he was born at Kalaupapa in 1833 and then returned there as a patient in November of 1893. Lots of these dates are in the process of being sorted out, but Umi emerged as an even more interesting individual when we were told by the Kalaupapa Park Genealogist that Umi was, in fact, the father of Kapoli Kamakau! Other records confirm that he accompanied Kapoli as her caregiver when she was sent to Kalaupapa from Honolulu on May 1, 1888 (along with 28 others believed to have leprosy). It is assumed that he contracted leprosy while living in Kalaupapa to care for Kapoli, became a patient himself in 1893 (2 years after marrying Hana), and subsequently died in June of 1899. It is unknown whether he knew Hana before he returned to Kalaupapa and whether Kapoli was at their wedding, as Kapoli died that same year in 1891. The plot thickens, so to speak, but it augers well for the grave search since we believe Umi’s gravesite is known, and if so, Hana’s grave should be close.

The final thread of interest involves the legal suit to recover the land/water rights taken from Hana after her first husband, Joseph Likona Kapakahi, died in 1887. Around the time she sued to reclaim the land, she was declared a leper and sent to Kalaupapa. In the account of the appeal submitted in 1899, Hana and Umi bemoan the fact that they cannot travel to take part in the trial over the land ownership. Unfortunately Umi died only 4 days after they submitted the appeal. It was painful to read the description (which you are welcome to read here: Hana Umi Kukailani vs Pioneer Mill Co. 1899). After Hana (who was my maternal grandmother’s great aunt) died in 1904, my grandmother’s half sister’s husband, the plantation doctor in Lāhainā, was appointed executor of Hana’s estate. The contested land was sold to the Pioneer Mill Company and the good doctor and family moved to Albany, New York.

All of the above point to the astounding richness of one’s family’s history if we take the time to ask the questions and listen to the answers! I hope all of us in our family will get to know the whole story of Hana, Umi, and Kapoli so that we can appreciate the heritage of courage and perseverance we are called to imbed in our lives. I’m sure all of you can come up with your own family tales of hope! It will be worth the effort! Stay tuned for the next chapter of our saga. Me ke aloha pau‘ole.

 

Recently I have been fascinated to see members of our larger ‘ohana begin to plan a visit to Kalaupapa on Moloka‘i, the leper colony established in the middle of the 19^th century to which some 8,000 people were sent. The purpose of the trip would be to visit the grave of Tung Shu “Tommy” Fung, the husband of a lady who cared for me and lived with our family. Tommy Fung was sent to Kalaupapa in the 1920’s and died there in 1945. His wife, Amoy Chock Fung, raised five children on one acre of land in Kohala. “Chinese Aunty,” as we called her, had come on the same ship from Canton as my grandfather Ah Fung Chock, when she was a very young girl and he was in his twenties. Our families were very intertwined and she and her children lived with us much of the time. Some of my earliest memories are of her caring for me and watching her as she scrubbed our clothes on the washing board on the sink outside, ironed our clothes, or prepared her special Chinese dishes for the family. Grandfather had given strict orders for his children to care for “Aunty” and her children and we would celebrate important occasions as a large extended family. We think there is blood relationship because of Grandfather’s connection, but so far we haven’t documented it. In any case, Hawaiian culture honors and encourages the power of the extended family. All of us loved “Aunty” dearly and she was my de facto “Popo” (grandmother).

Many memories of Chinese Aunty populate my vision of growing up. As I shared in a previous post, one of the most dramatic was my going into the bathroom at three or four years old and seeing her dentures in a glass on the sink! It was very hard for my little mind to get around the scene and perhaps some of my present day behavior is tied to that moment! Her quiet and kind demeanor and her basic pidgin English were positive elements of my growing up. So were her trips to the market and the stained paper packages containing Chinese cracked seed she would pull from her bag as treats for the children.

Chinese Aunty was a strong and determined woman. When she was left with five children and an acre of land in Kohala she did all she could do to make sure her children had educational opportunities and were prepared to succeed in a tough world. I don’t know if she ever was in touch with her husband at Kalaupapa, but she was very present and hardworking in supporting her children and extended family. She remains for me a wonderful example of perseverance in the midst of seeming disaster.

Back to the Kalaupapa expedition. Her grandchildren will be revisiting the grave of her husband Tommy Fung at Kalaupapa. They had located it some ten or twelve years ago. Our family is probably blood related, so we will join them in that visit. What we have found out, however, is that our Hawaiian ‘ohana also has a relative resting at Kalaupapa, Hannah Pelio Kapakahi, my maternal grandmother’s great aunt. She was sent to Kalaupapa in 1888 under questionable circumstances and died there in 1904. We have never visited or identified her grave and so that is our family challenge for this year! Mystery has surrounded her being sent to Kalaupapa as a leper because she and her husband, Joseph Likona Kapakahi, held the royal patent of land in Kaua‘ula in Lāhainā that contained important water resources. After her death, Pioneer Mill acquired the estate and the water resources. Throughout the years, several members of the family have investigated the acquisition, but significant questions remain unanswered. Life is always interesting.

I am hoping that my son, one of my daughters, and our oldest mo‘opuna (grandchild) will join the Kalaupapa adventure. Why? Because it will help a couple of generations to understand their roots and the human soil they spring from. They will be able to see the scene of their ancestors’ struggle and appreciate that their family toiled in the same human garden that Father Damien and Sister Marianne Cope loved and gave their lives for. The thought takes my breath away and I trust that if the visit takes place, it will be a family treasure passed down from generation to generation.

Take a moment and explore your family treasures with your ‘ohana. Get intentional about embedding them in the hearts of those you love. Make sure the memories and their lessons touch and bless those that are to come. Me ke aloha piha.

I imagine I spent several summers with Uncle Bill, Aunty Blanche, and Kathryn in San Francisco. I remember them as being exciting days being Uncle Bill’s sidekick and watching him paint houses and work at his other profession: professional gambling. Uncle Bill would take me out to Petaluma to visit his friends who ran a cockfighting arena outside of town (and where he ran a blackjack concession that did very well), a place that was the center of activity on the weekends, particularly for the Filipino farm workers. He also would take me from time to time to pool rooms in Chinatown and ask me to sit in a chair downstairs while he “went to the bathroom” for a couple of hours. Invariably he would come down from the “bathroom” and say, “Ok boy, let’s go get Aunty Blanche and Kathryn and go eat pake food.” It was obvious that the trips to the bathroom were profitable.

Several times, Uncle Bill took me on his gambling adventures to Reno. Back in the 50’s, he had a simple rule: he would take five hundred dollars and when they were done, he’d go home. Often it was the other way around and he came back with significant winnings. I have never seen a man play blackjack with such success as Uncle Bill had. Over the years he won enough money to buy a large three or four story house on Jackson Street that he and Aunty Blanche turned into a boarding house for a number of residents. Each day Aunty and Kathryn would walk five blocks past the large city park on the hill and up to the boarding house to clean and do laundry for the tenants, several of whom I got to know over time. Uncle Bill’s career in gambling lasted until a few years before his death, when the Sherriff of Daly City changed and Uncle could no longer run his game with impunity.

In addition to gambling, Uncle Bill was a very proficient fisherman… primarily shore fishing along the coasts in and around San Francisco. His specialty was catching striped bass; he would allow me to bring them in, and from the shore we would go directly home and then to his favorite Chinese restaurant for steamed striped bass. It was heady stuff for a young kid to be included in these adventures!

Along with memories of Uncle Bill are memories of Aunty Blanche. One thing that pops into mind is the breakfasts Aunty Blanche would prepare for Uncle and me as we would get ready to go to work or to venture out on one of our fishing trips. She was a great cook. Eggs any style, thick slabs of bacon, and then, her special treat, thick pieces of bread fried in the bacon grease would start our day. Nothing the heart doctor would recommend, but certainly very ono! Aunty Blanche was also a consummate shopper and preserve maker and I remember the time spent with her at the farmers markets, the butcher shops, and bakeries around the little Fillmore neighborhood. The area was in transition from being a primarily Jewish neighborhood to becoming a mixed Japanese/black part of town. I believe it has again changed and has become a yuppie part of the city. She had her favorite

butchers who would provide the cuts she wanted along with the chicken heads for her cats and heart meat for her dog. When vegetables or fruits were in season and cheap, she’d buy large quantities of them and take them home to be canned in the dozens of glass jars that, when filled, would line the many shelves in their basement and find use during the long winter. It was an amazing process to be a part of.

The last, most vivid experiences with Uncle were our trips to Roseville, California outside of Sacramento to visit Bill and Lilly Kendrick. Bill was Momma’s first husband and a simple man who had worked at the bus company in Honolulu and was from around Roseville. He and Lilly, his second wife and a sweet, simple Hawaiian lady from Kona, lived on an acre of land with a very impressive garden. Lilly loved to cook local foods and Uncle Bill would always plan his trips to stay the night at Bill and Lilly’s place. I remember gigging frogs in the stream outback with a flashlight and then watch in amazement as Lilly turned the frogs into delicious fried frog legs we would have as a midnight snack. Bill and Lilly loved Uncle Bill and the love was returned in kind. They also became people who blessed me through the years.

I guess since Uncle Bill and Blanche never had children together, I was sort of a surrogate son. My cousin, Alpha, also become a favorite and a surrogate daughter to them and we all remained close as our lives moved on. Uncle Bill came to my wedding in 1968 and then passed away the following year from cancer. From that point on, our contact with Blanche and Kathryn was infrequent. I know that in his later years, Uncle Bill worked hard with youth in the Boy Scouts program in the Japanese community around his neighborhood. To this day we have many of the plaques that honored him for his work with young people. Uncle Bill was always one to extend a hand to those in need and it was a lesson I have always held close to my heart.

This week begins the holiday season for most of us.  It can be depressing, but it also can be an opportunity to celebrate all of the GOOD things we have been given through the years!  Let’s help each other celebrate the good things that have populated our lives.  The great people, the great events, even the tough things that have given us strength and encouragement on our life journeys.  Seek the opportunities we have over the coming holidays to reaffirm one another.  Holiday blessings to you and yours.

As I have put down some of the memories I have of the early years of my life, I am reminded that those years were filled with strong individuals who Ke Akua used to mold my view of the world and fill out the person I have become over these many years. Before going forward with the chronological account of my early years, I’d like to pause to highlight a few of the personalities and adventures that stand out in my journey to adulthood.

In addition to my mother and father, I would say my two maternal uncles, Uncle Bill and Uncle Alfred Chock, were particularly important in my early years. For much of my life up to my teenage years, my father was often stationed overseas either in Alaska or Korea, and these two men often filled in the gap. Uncle Bill Chock (or Chuck as he often spelled it), was Mom’s older brother and lived in San Francisco. He had left Hawai‘i in his youth to join the Merchant Marines, served on various merchant ships, and then settled in the Bay area in the Fillmore District at 2517 and 1/2 Sacramento Street (funny that I still remember the address after all these years). He was married to a lively and very kind Englishwoman, Blanche, who had an adult daughter, Kathryn, who suffered from epilepsy and depression. Uncle Bill was half Hawaiian, half Pake, and knew enough Chinese to get around Chinatown and Chinese restaurants (more on these adventures later). He was also a very gifted house painter who was highly sought after for his painting skills. I used to watch him cut edges in rooms perfectly and with great speed. Uncle kept an impressive array of painting and general hardware supplies in perfect order and prided himself on being good at his painting profession, something he said he got from Grandpa Ah Fung Chock, the plantation painter in Kohala.

I remember Uncle Bill and I had a shared addiction to watermelon. As we were about town, we’d often find a truck filled with watermelon for sale and immediately Uncle would be pounding on various green spheres to finally come up with a couple to take home. As soon as we had finished dinner, it was a mano a mano contest between Uncle and me over who could devour the most red flesh from the green spheres. Plenty fun and great bonding.

Uncle Bill with his cars and the pose that defined him

Many images of Uncle Bill fill my mind. He was square and solid in built. He wore khaki pants and shirts when not dressed in his white painter overalls, and was rarely seen without a cigar in his mouth. To this day, the smell of a cigar triggers positive memories of Uncle Bill and his generous spirit. He loved to drive and would not blink at going several hundred miles out of his way to take a soldier he picked up hitchhiking to his home in another state. I remember one time when Dad was sent to Korea, Uncle Bill drove his 1954 Oldsmobile all the way to Pennsylvania so that he could drive Mom and me across the country. The fishing in trout farms in Colorado, the stopping in Tombstone to visit all of the abandoned buildings, and the frequent stops at fruit stands to refresh our car stash were some of the exclamation marks during the crossing of the country with Uncle Bill. The trip was filled with his persistent questions about the names of state capitals, history, and the geography of the continent. He was a man who engaged those about him with humor and good will and he made sure his nephew (me) was a constant focus of interaction.