Category Archives: Hawaiian issues

Key figures in the Hawaiian movement: The Kalahiki brothers

A shoutout to two more champions of the modern Hawaiian political and social renaissance, Randy Kalahiki (left, 1932-1993) and his older brother, Mel Kalahiki (right, 1925-2020). The brothers played a foundational, ground-level role in the early years of the modern Hawaiian Renaissance and the political awakening that gathered momentum through the 1970s and 1980s. If there were an important event in the emerging Hawaiian movement, these two would almost always be there at or near the center of the action.

I was closest to Randy, who I met in about 1974 through Kawaipuna Prejean, the first director of the Hawaiian Coalition of Native Claims. Yes, the same Kawaipuna who suggested that we fly to Maui for the January 1976 protest landing on Kahoolawe. When I met Randy, he was known as one of the founders of the Prejean’s organization, and later served as a lobbyist and board member of its successor organization, the Native Hawaiian Legal Corporation.

Randy was a former meat cutter and truck driver who turned to youth work as a result of experiences with the Kahaluu Community Action Program. CAP was one of Lyndon B. Johnson’s signature 1960s anti-poverty initiatives that empowered local communities to design and manage their own programs. A number of well-known community activists emerged from CAP programs over the years.

It felt to me like Randy was everywhere there were activists pressing for change. He was there with the movements to stop the bombing of Kahoolawe and Makua Valley, to reform the policies of the Hawaiian Homes Commission, protect the rights of prisoners, and protect Hawaiian land rights. He spent several years with the KEY Project in Kahaluu, and retained his ties to that community throughout his life. With his quiet and gregarious personality, he was as comfortable in the hallways of the state capitol as on the streets in communities across Oahu. He mainly worked behind the scenes to keep collective emotions in check during confrontations over contentious issues, steering activists into constructive and effective social action.

I knew Mel as Randy’s brother. The one with the camera. a Nikon, as I recalled. Mel almost always carried his camera, as I did at that time.

I wonder whatever happened to his important collection of photos and negatives? It must be a treasure trove of photos of significant people and events in that period of Hawaii history. Where is that collection today?

Mel was the organization guy, serving for over a decade as chairman of the Council of Hawaiian Organizations, a coalition that brought together groups with different interests and political views to speak with one voice on Hawaiian issues. The position put him at the center of one of the most important organizations and the most vital policy issues during that period.

In 1982, Governor George Ariyoshi appointed Mel to the Hawaiian Homes Commission as the representative for Windward Oahu. He served for eight years and became the commission’s vice chairman.

He was elected a director of the Hawaii Canoe Racing Association in 1978, according to news clips, and served as its race director for many years. That connection hit close to home: my father, John M. Lind, was a co-founder of the HCRA, then known as the Hawaii Canoe Racing and Surfing Association, and was president in 1952, the year of the first Molokai to Oahu race.

Liko Martin, Kawaipuna Prejean, Mel Kalahiki, January 1977.

Mel was one of those who took the stage at the Iolani Palace bandstand for the first “Sovereign Sunday” in January 1977, the event where musician and songwriter Liko Martin introduced his anthem, “All Hawaii Stand Together.”

The brothers were a powerhouse duo, and I was lucky to spend several years as a young man rubbing shoulders with them.

From my Kahoolawe archive:
Emma deFries

Aunty Emma deFries outside Honolulu’s old federal courthouse, May 1977

I recently came across these two photos among my Kahoolawe archives. I believe they were taken on May 19, 1977, when members and allies of the Protect Kahoolawe Ohana gathered at Honolulu’s old federal courthouse. I was there at the court that day with a camera. This was one of a series of gatherings at the court when proceedings were scheduled to stand with those who had been arrested and charged with trespassing during unauthorized landings on the Navy-controlled island.

It was, I believe, the first time that many PKO supporters came to court in traditional garb, from gourd helmets to malo as they asserted Native Hawaiian cultural identity and ancestral rights as part of the movement to stop the bombing.

And in the midst of the scrum trying to get past security at the doors in the top photo, I spotted the familiar face of Emma deFries, a key spiritual advisor of the PKO. I don’t know if she was ubiquitous at PKO meetings, social gatherings, and public events, but it felt that way.

I did a litle edit to lighten her face so that it would stand out in the crowd. In this original B&W version, she ends up looking almost ethereal.

The second photo was taken later just outside the courtroom.

When I went looking for more information on her life, I found most of it unsatisfying. The search found plenty of facts, but offered little to appreciate her spirit. For example, here’s a standard obituary, full of awards and recognitions, which I think was originally published by the Honolulu Advertiser.

But a brief obituary by Star-Bulletin writer Murry Engle captured a more meaningful and satisfying (at least to me) moment.

I’m taking the liberty of reprinting Engle’s short piece below.

Emma deFries
Knew That Her
Time Had Come

By Murry Engle
Star-Bulletin Writer
December 9, 1980

Emma de Fries demonstrated in her lifetime that she knew how to live. She was the most visible 20th century
kahuna of the la’aukahea (healing) order of Hawaiian kahunas, whose power or mana is in prayer and analysis.

Yesterday in the cool of early morning, under bright stars set in a velvet black sky, on the aina (land) and beside the sea, she showed that she also knew how to die.

She had spent Sunday night at Queen’s Hospital, where she had been a patient for a week. Sometime after mid-night, she told the more than 30 family members friends who were with her that she wanted to go to Kaaawa Beach.

“She had all her faculties together, but she was getting pretty low,” said Olga Mitchell, a hanai daughter and former assistant curator at Queen Emma Summer Palace. “I think she knew that death was near.”

Dr. Emmett Aluli, Molokai physician and spokesman for Protect Kahoolawe ‘Ohana, said he was encouraged that her Oahu physician let her “die the way she chose, with the people she loved and on the aina.”

MITCHELL SAID, “She loved the elements – the earth, the sun, the wind, the rain and the water. She liked to go to Kaaawa because it was peaceful.”

Arriving at 3:23 a.m., she was taken to the beach and then, “She was resting, really resting,” Aluli said.

She died at 4 a.m.

“The people who gathered and who were part of the whole process of dying, were left with her spirit,” Aluli
said.

Makua: The Captive Valley

Back in 1983, I was digging into records at the State Archives and depositories for sources of information about how the military had accumulated so much land on Oahu and throughout the state.

A local newspaper, Ka Huliau, published my story on the history of military control of Makua Valley in its May-June 1983 issue.

Ka Huliau or “The Turning Point” was a left leaning, underground, independent newspaper printed by Hawaii Education for Social Progress, Inc..Published in the 1980s (presumably from 1982-1986) Ka Huliau self-identified as “An independent newspaper focusing on Hawaii and Pacific issues.” These issues included labor strikes, nuclear proliferation, socialism and others primarily in the context of their effect on Hawaiians and other Islanders.

I asked Google for the people behind Hawaii Education for Social Progress, and it identied several key players: The primary editors and staff members associated with the organization and publication included Roland Kotani, Grace Kotani, Cindy Broch, Gary Takiyama, John Witeck, and Lucy Witeck. Roland Kotani was appointed to the Hawaii House of Reprentatives by then Gov. John Waihee in 1987, and ran unopposed for the same seat in the 1988 election.

In a tragic turn of events, Roland Kotani was found bludgeoned to death in his home in July 1989. Grace Kotani, his estranged wife, agreed to be interviewed by HPD with her attorney present, and confessed to the killing. She then asked to use the restroom, killed herself with a handgun hidden in her purse.

The scan below is of mediocre quality, done many years ago, but I hope you’ll be able to read the article despite the quality issues.

Portrait of Hawaiian power

Makua 1976

I appreciated a comment by “Rebecca in Hilo” on an earlier post in which she provided encouraging words about my early photographs as a participant-observer in the nascent modern Hawaiian rights movement of the 1970s.

Her comment made me realize how rare it is to get positive feedback on images that, to my eye, remain powerful and meaningful.

It sent me back yesterday to take another look at some of those photos, and I ended up browsing through images from a “Stop the Bombing” rally on the beach fronting Makua Valley on February 28, 1976. The rally was held less than two months after the original protest landing on the island of Kahoolawe by a group later dubbed the “Kahoolawe Nine.

Here’s one that was flying under my radar, a portrait of four giants in the Hawaiian movement. From left to right, Gard Kealoha, Winona Rubin, Gayle Kawaipuna Prejean, and Peter Apo. Only Apo is still living, well into his 80s and remains active in the Royal Order of Kamehameha I. In retrospect, quite an inspiring cast of characters!

The photo was taken after the Army sent a female officer to speak to the Hawaiian leaders present at the day-long Makua protest.

I’m sure none except Apo will be familiar to the general public or even activists today, so I asked Google’s Gemini AI to help me with profiles of those who have died. These are dry, factual profiles that don’t convey their colorful natures and powerful personalities. But they do serve to place them in the politics of the period.

Continue reading