Category Archives: General

The Chemo Chronicles:
A discharge day status report

I was released Wednesday afternoon after a week in Queen’s Hospital after another bout of infectio. It was just a few minutes after 2 p.m. when I whisked away in a wheelchair, a bag of possessions in my lap, and picked up at the hospital entry by an old friend, his wife, and their wonderfully happy dog, Prince. I belted in after being suitably greeted with a lot of licking! Then Prince obediently moved into the back seat without much of a fuss.

I had been feeling fine waiting in bed up upstairs in room 744, and okay getting dressed and walking to the wheelchair to be rolled downstairs to the pick-up zone and assisted into the car.

I left Queen’s with a new walker, although I thought to myself that it was unlikely to ever see much use. I also had a brown paper bag of prescriptions, a confusing schedule for taking them, and a small baggie of personal items (hearing aids, watch, iPhone, charger, backup battery, and cables). Along with those came the travel blanket that accompanied me to Queen’s and my discharge papers, which listed the medications, their varied instructions, and a series of follow-up appointments.

My discharge didn’t include a bill, courtesy of Medicare and HMSA.

When we got to the house, I was able to walk under my own steam across the lawn, up the few steps, and in through the front door, taking a seat on one of the stools beside the kitchen counter, where I was greeted by cats.

Kali was first, I think, right there waiting to sniff everything that I introduced. Kiko was right behind her. Bessie, I knew, would be up in her perch in the pantry. So I called Kinikini, who had failed to immediately appear. As soon as I did, he came rocketing from the direction of our bedroom and gave me a warm greeting.

Kini has been acting like a dog ever since my reappearance, refusing to leave my side for more than a minute or two. As usual, Kiko joins him on the bed once I’m back there resting. But that’s jumping ahead in this saga.

Whew. Sitting down in the house. So far, so good, it seemed.

I stood up, fired up the walker, and headed into the kitchen. Felt fine. And then it hit. Wham!
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Aloha to a longtime friend

I awoke in my 7th floor room at Queens Hospital in Honolulu on Friday morning, and received the news that a friend of more than 40 years had died the day before.

We were friends with Doug Campbell for most of the 46 years he spent as a judge in Canada, first as a provincial judge and later a federal judge.

He and Meda grew up together professionally from their different positions analyzing the impacts of the courts and criminal justice system, and I was lucky to tag along for the ride, along with Doug’s wife, Shirley.

Doug retired in 2020 as the longest serving judge in Canadian history, and left an extraordinary legal and human legacy built during those decades of public service.

But our personal relationship goes back to the late 1970s. At that time, Doug had already assumed the task of organizing judicial training for the province, while Meda was a newly minted PhD, who was in the process of creating the field of feminist criminology.

They were on a panel together at one of the first professional conferences she attended on the West Coast, recognized their common professional interests, and we were off! Before long, we had become personal friends with Doug both Doug and Shirley.

Over the last 15 or 20 years, we would meet them on Maui during their annual migration from the harsh Canadian winter, and jointly celebrate Mada and Shirley’s birthdays, which are about a week apart.

And AI-assisted review of his accomplishments and impacts beers below.

When Canadian legal historians reflect on judicial reform, few names carry as distinctive a legacy as the Honourable Douglas R. Campbell. Appointed to the Provincial Court of British Columbia in 1974 at just 29 years old, and later elevating to the Federal Court of Canada in 1995, Justice Campbell retired in 2020 as Canada’s longest-serving judge after 46 consecutive years on the bench.

Throughout his nearly five-decade career, Justice Campbell left an indelible mark on how Canadian jurists are trained, how courts interact with marginalized communities, and how administrative justice treats vulnerable individuals.

Transforming Judicial Education Through “Social Context”

For much of the 20th century, Canadian judicial education focused narrowly on doctrinal updates and statutory interpretation. In the early 1990s, Justice Campbell disrupted this model by pioneering social context education through initiatives like the Western Judicial Education Centre.

Recognizing that formal legal neutrality can perpetuate systemic inequality if judges remain unaware of societal power imbalances, Campbell pushed for experiential adult education. Instead of conventional lecture halls, he facilitated programs where judges directly engaged with the lived realities of disadvantaged populations. His educational framework became a cornerstone for modern training through the National Judicial Institute and was adopted internationally across jurisdictions from South Africa to Australia and South Asia.

Elevating Marginalized Voices and Indigenous Realities

Campbell was among the earliest judges to champion the principle that true impartiality requires understanding historical trauma and structural oppression.

* Indigenous Justice: He advocated for relational and community-connected approaches, urging jurists to step outside institutional silos and learn directly from Indigenous elders and community members.

* Centering Vulnerable Litigants: Whether adjudicating matters involving racialized minorities, people living in poverty, or individuals facing state deportation, Campbell maintained that decisions detached from human reality are fundamentally flawed.

The Meaning and Legacy of “Campbelling”

In the halls of the Federal Court, Justice Campbell’s approach to immigration and refugee law earned him a unique place in Canadian legal slang: getting “Campbelled” (or the practice of “Campbelling”).

camp-bell-ing [verb / legal slang]:
The judicial overturning or remanding of an uncompassionate, overly rigid,
or mechanically detached administrative decision in refugee and immigration cases.

In refugee and humanitarian-and-compassionate (H&C) reviews under the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act, Campbell frequently took administrative tribunals to task for bureaucratic indifference. Where decision-makers evaluated human life through rigid checklists, Campbell insisted that adjudicators must employ both “heart and mind”.

Between 2008 and 2016, his rate of granting relief in refugee reviews notably exceeded court averages, driven by a strict standard against administrative decisions that ignored the real risks of deportation. Decisions such as Kolosovs v. Canada helped reshape judicial oversight, emphasizing that assessing hardship requires genuine empathy.

While critics occasionally debated the limits of judicial discretion, refugee advocates regarded appearing before Justice Campbell as an assurance that the human stakes of a claim would not be overlooked.

Justice Douglas Campbell’s legacy demonstrated that judicial independence and deep social consciousness are complementary virtues. By institutionalizing social context education and embedding empathy into judicial review, he redefined what it means for the justice system to serve everyone who comes before it.

[written and edited from my bed in Queen’s Hospital on an iPhone Air, a challenge in itself.]

Protest of prison conditions in 1981.
A previously untold story: Part 2

Older part of OCCC during an extended “lockdown” several months after the Dec 1981 shakedown

[Part 1 of this tale, describing the shakedown and our efforts to gather information about incidents of excessive force, was posted on Saturday.]

This is where it got interesting

After drafting our brief report on the shakedown violence, Meda and I followed up with our contacts in the religious and Hawaiian communities, sharing what we had learned and discussing ideas for what could be done next.

Randy Kalahiki was one of those we reached out to. We sought out Randy because of his multiple close connections in many parts of the Hawaiian community as well as the legislature and other centers of power. The report is addressed to Randy at the Native Hawaiian Law Project of Legal Aid of Hawaii. This may have been while the federal tax exempt status of the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation, incorporated in 1978, was still not fully approved.

The Hawaiian community had, and continues to have, a significant interest in prison policy because Hawaiians and part-Hawaiians are incarcerated at disproportionately high levels compared to their proportion of the population. A 2025 journal article reported Hawaiians make up 39% of Hawaii’s prison population but only 25% of the population, a situation that appears little changed over the past four decades.

Randy told us the Council of Hawaiian Organizations already had an appointment with then-Gov. George Ariyoshi regarding another issue, but said they would be willing to use the occasion to deliver a copy of our “report” on the shakedown violence. We quickly delivered a copy to him, as these were the days before email or home fax machines.

And Ariyoshi was no stranger to Randy, who had been a friend of his predecessor as governor, John Burns, and had known Ariyoshi himself since they were kids.

Randy’s daughter, Alicia, explained in an oral history interview George and Randy had met when a young George picked up clothing for his father’s business.

“George’s father had a laundry business, and George used to come by to my grandmother’s house and collect clothes for dry cleaning,” Alicia said in the interview. “My grandmother would send out the whites to be starched and ironed and whatnot.”

In December 1981, Ariyoshi was gearing up for what was expected to be a brutal election rematch against arch rival, Honolulu Mayor Frank Fasi. The two had gone head to head in the bitter 1978 Democratic Primary. In 1982, Fasi avoided a primary clash by running under the “Independent Democrat” label.

The Washington Post reported that earlier campaign included “the burning down of a Fasi headquarters on Maui, the beating up of a pro-Fasi poll-watcher and the withdrawal of a third candidate who said his life had been threatened,” with each side accusing the opposing candidate of being too close to “organized crime.”

The “quiet and effective” governor was angry

Ariyoshi powered his 1978 reelection with a new campaign slogan, “quiet and effective” which managed to frame his low-key approach to governing as a stark contract to Fasi’s loud and boisterous public persona.

Randy phoned us with an update following the meeting with Ariyoshi.

“The governor didn’t take it well,” he explained.

Randy said he was taken aback by Ariyoshi’s angry response, which was strong enough that it left Randy fearing we could be targeted for retaliation.

Then we learned we weren’t the first to hear this news. Before calling us Randy had contacted Roy Ryder, an organized crime figure who had deep personal and multi-generational family roots in Kahaluu.

Randy said he had explained the situation to Ryder and described Ariyoshi’s reaction. He then asked for Ryder’s help in protecting us if he heard of any “contracts” or other suggestions on the street that harm was being directed our way.

At the time, I really didn’t know Roy Ryder from Roy Rogers, although I had heard of him, as he had been in the headlines for years.

During the turbulent 1970s, Ryder emerged as a prominent figure in Hawaii’s organized crime landscape, operating within the island underworld before becoming a pivotal insider witness for law enforcement.

Ryder testified he had joined Wilford “Nappy” Pulawa’s organized-crime syndicate in 1969, acting as the regional leader/enforcer for the Windward side (Kahaluu, Kaneohe, Kailua, and up toward the North Shore), while answering to and coordinating with top syndicate bosses in Honolulu like Wilford “Nappy” Pulawa, Bobby Wilson, and Henry Huihui.

As federal and state authorities intensified their crackdown on the local syndicate, Ryder—alongside fellow operative Clarence Handa—flipped and agreed to testify against their associates, taking the stand in landmark trials against the powerful syndicate’s leaders.

His testimony pulled back the curtain and publicly revealed the syndicate’s internal workings, racketeering operations, and violent disputes, marking a defining chapter in the legal efforts to dismantle organized crime rings across Oahu. But he later recanted much of his testimony, undermining several prosecutions, and leaving Ryder with a well-established reputation as an admitted syndicate insider whose credibility was now badly compromised.

Randy’s disclosure and Ryder’s involvement obviously came shock to us, and we had no relevant past experience or direct knowledge of local organized crime to evaluate the validity of the perceived threat. We did have a close attorney friend who represented some crime characters, and had heard his tales of threats from crooked cops and dangerous clients. But we had no reason to question Randy’s assessment of the seriousness of the situation.

We were nervous and on alert for several days but nothing ever happened that we could tie to the incident. We never learned whether any threats towards us had ever been detected, much less quashed by Ryder’s intervention. After a few days of worrying, we simply returned to our business as usual.

Validation
It took a long time, but eventually there were several investigations of the 1981 shakedown, including one by a special Senate committee chaired by Sen. Dante Carpenter that held extensive public hearings.

The most detailed and extensive findings are contained in a report by the Office of Ombudsman Nelson Doi in September 1983.

Among the Ombudsman’s summary findings:

There was insufficient evidence that unreasonable force was used against 59 of the 103 inmates; there was sufficient evidence that unreasonable force was used against 44 of the inmates. Of these 44, 18 were treated for injuries such as bruises, contusions, lacerations, and abrasions.

The 103 inmates made 121 allegations; there was sufficient evidence that unreasonable force was used in 40 percent of the allegations.

See:

Report written immediately after the shakedown by Ian Lind and Meda Chesney-Lind

Document including the above report plus misc. inmate testimony and other items, good background.

Investigaion Of Allegations Of The Use Of Unreasonable Force Against Inmates During The Shakedown Of The Oahu Community Correctional CenterFrom December 14 Through December 18, 1981, Office of the Ombudsman, September 1983.

The search for the $35,000 cash bribe in a paper bag comes up empty

The long-awaited grand jury indictment alleging Lt. Gov. Sylvia Luke and four others were part of a public corruption conspiracy dropped on Friday afternoon. Reporters who had been salivating for a couple of years at rumors of $35,000 in cash handed over in a paper bag to pay off an “influential” legislator were quick to react—but likely disappointed.

There is nothing in the 30-page indictment about $35,000 changing hands, in cash or otherwise, and no mention of a paper bag. (The full indictment is embedded at the bottom of this post, and the network chart above maps out the alleged connections and specific charges against each defendant. I’ve added question marks alongside the line representing campaign contributions, indicating the hurdles to treating them as bribes).

The indictment places lobbyist and businessman Tobi Solidum at the center of the alleged scheme. Solidum, who has apparently left the state and is believed to be in the Philippines beyond legal reach, pitched a public-private partnership early in the pandemic to scale up local COVID-19 testing, including high-profile traveler screening at Honolulu Airport.

By January 2022, Solidum estimated his compamies were processing an half of all COVID-19 tests statewide, according to the indictment.

The indictment does not allege the original contract awards were obtained through bribes. Instead, the criminal charges center on events in early 2022, when federal emergency funding was drying up and contractors and state officials were scrambling to secure state appropriations to maintain testing operations.

According to prosecutors, Solidum made cash payments and issued checks to then-State Rep. Ryan Yamane—chair of the House Health Committee—between 2020 and 2022 in exchange for legislative influence and insider access. Solidum is also alleged to have directed a $7,000 payment to Ford Fuchigami on January 30, 2022, for legislative assistance while Fuchigami was serving on the staff of the Senate Ways and Means Committee.

Notably, the indictment contains no allegations that Sylvia Luke accepted any personal cash payoffs. Instead, the case against Luke hinges on a January 20, 2022 dinner meeting at Morton’s The Steakhouse, where two $5,000 campaign checks were handed to her by Solidum and his stepdaughter, Kristen Pae. Luke turned the checks over to her volunteer campaign treasurer, Leo Asuncion Jr., to be deposited into the “Friends of Sylvia Luke” account.

Despite early media focus on the Lieutenant Governor, the State’s own filings position her far from the center of the conspiracy. As Deputy Attorney General David Van Acker acknowledged when the indictment was unsealed: “If we’re looking at the most culpable individual factually, we believe that is Ryan Yamane.”
With Solidum absent, Yamane faces the heaviest allegations involving direct off-the-books payments. Fuchigami faces charges tied to his $7,000 payment, while Asuncion is charged with making false statements and concealing records regarding the checks, though he is not accused of taking bribes.

For Luke, prosecutors are attempting to convert two political contributions—deposited in a campaign bank account—into criminal bribery. Because Hawaii courts have yet to establish a clear legal line distinguishing legitimate political contributions from criminal bribery, prosecutors face a steep hurdle in proving an explicit quid pro quo.

As one legal commentator observed following the filing: Lieutenant Governor Sylvia Luke is Innocent.