Category Archives: John Lind Collection

Documents, photos, and notes in the collection of my dad, John M. Lind, who turned 95 on Dec. 7, 2008.

Throwback Thursday: New Year’s Eve at the Hawaiian Village

It was New Year’s Eve in Honolulu and my parents were partying with my dad’s cousin, Bill Fairley, and his wife.

That’s Fairley, on the right, with my mom next to him. My dad is over on the left with Mrs. Fairley.

According to a note on the back of the photo, they were at Henry Kaiser’s new Hawaiian Village for New Year’s Eve 1956. The hotel first opened in mid-1955.

This was probably taken not long after the new hotel opened.

John Lind, Floice Fairley, Helen Lind, Bill Fairley New Years Eve 1956 Hawaiian Village

At the time, my dad was manager of the Honolulu office of Dohrmann Hotel Supply Company. That’s how he met Henry Kaiser.

When he was about 90, and apparently aware that his memories were fading, he started pecking away at an old manual typewriter and recording bits of history. One day he described meeting Kaiser and getting drawn into the development of the original Kaiser Hawaiian Village.

Here’s part of his essay.

Mr. (Jerry) Zuker was formerly a Hotel Street bar operator who patronized the Dohrmann Hotel Supply Company, the employer who had sent me to Honolulu in May of 1939.

Zuker had purchased the old Niumalu Hotel property in late 1940s and was making plans for its improvement. As I sat their looking over the placemat I could not help remembering one of the most historical moments of my career in the hotel and restaurant supply business.

Dohrmann moved into a new building on 1122 Ala Moana in 1955 following a move from the McCandless Building at 925 Bethel Street. World War Two was over and a new man in town, Henry Kaiser, phoned one afternoon about 4 p.m. stating that he wanted to have a representative meet with his people concerning some projects.

I asked if 9 a.m. the next morning would be suitable and was immediately told that the meeting was underway and he wanted somebody NOW!

I dropped everything and went to the old Niumalu Hotel where I found Mr. Kaiser and his right hand man, Mr. Hancock, seated at a large table with rolls of plans in front of them. I learned that Mr. Kaiser had recently purchased the property and was in the throes of a big project.

This was the Henry Kaiser that the world had heard so much about during the war with his ingenuity in getting things done, especially building ships and launching one a day when they were urgently needed. I was amazed that he was such a down to earth person.

Our company’s background was known to Mr. Kaiser and their full efforts to assist him was made known, as our San Francisco office had the talent that would be required for such a project.

The Niumalu property consisted of everything from the entry to Ft. DeRussy on Kalia Road to the water’s edge. The whole area was overgrown with weeds, trees, and rubbish. Mr. Kaiser’s plans called for several major buildings and this meeting was to get started on the development of a major kitchen as well as a smaller coffee shop.

For the next several years the company’s resources were used for this development and many nice projects were finalized, including the transformation of the old Niumalu into Henry Kaiser’s Hawaiian Village.

He was indeed a man of action and one could not help but admire him for his sincerity and no nonsense manner. His staff that soon developed after that first meeting operated in the same manner and it was a real pleasure to have had the opportunity to work with them.

One one occasion, equipment for one of his kitchens was being assembled in our new Ala Moana building. He called the afternoon prior to the day of delivery to be certain everything was on schedule. He had been assured al was ready to go and would be out to the job site in the morning.

At 9 a.m. the next day, Mr. Kaiser’s Lincoln Continental drove up to the front door of the store and in came Mr. Kaiser to inspect the progress of his shipment. That’s the way he handled just about everything we did for him. He was really a man of action.

My dad’s photo in yesterday’s Star-Advertiser

Thanks to everyone who contacted me to let me know about the photo of my dad that accompanied Bob Sigall’s column in yesterday’s Star-Advertiser.

My dad arrived in Hawaii on May Day in 1939. He had a new car, a trunk that his father made that was full of clothes, a surfboard, and a hollow paddle board.

He was fresh from organizing the Long Beach Surf Club in Long Beach, California, as well as a “national” surfing competition the prior year in which the surf didn’t cooperate and only paddling races were held.

Soon after arriving in Hawaii, he helped organize the Hawaii Surfing Association, which I believe then put on events during the war years. After WWII, he was one of the founders, and the first president, of the Waikiki Surf Club, formed as an alternative affordable to regular surfers and paddlers who couldn’t pay to join the Outrigger.

He was there for the beginning of the Molokai-Oahu Canoe Race, and credited with envisioning and founding the Makaha Surfing Championships, the predecessor of the modern surfing circuit.

He was an avid advocate of amateur athletics, and pulled back later in the 1960s or early 1970s when the big money from television contracts started the move to professionalizing competitive surfing. It was too far from his roots in the openness and accessibility of amateur surfing for him to feel comfortable.

Anyway, the photo yesterday was a pleasant surprise.

See also: The headline read, “John M Lind is too modest”

Aloha to legendary surfer George Downing

I was very sorry to read this morning of the death this week of another Hawaii surfing legend, George Downing (see Honolulu Star-Advertiser, “Hawaii surfing pioneer George Downing remembered“.

You can read much more about Downing’s role in the development of modern surfing in this article from the Surfing Heritage and Culture Center’s “Legendary Surfers” series.

After reading of his passing, I went looking for the many photos of Downing that were among my dad’s collection.

Here are a few, for the record.

Top finishers the Waikiki Surfclub’s 1st Annual Diamond Head Race, December 1948. George Downing placed 2nd. He’s the second from the left in this photo of the winners.

with John Lind

And another photo after that same event.

with John Lind

From a 1949 competition.

with John Lind

Makaha International Surfing Championships, 1965. George Downing won the Senior Mens division.

Makaha

And Downing on stage at Makaha in 1965, with Fred Hemmings (right) and Mike Doyle. My dad, John Lind, announcing, on the left in the photo.

Makaha

In search of Betty Peabody, Part II

With her horseAbout five months ago, just days before my sister died, I found a box of letters my dad saved his whole life. Letters from Betty Peabody, a girl he first met in California when he was in high school. She was a couple of years younger, and when she moved back to Michigan, he visited and corresponded for quite a few years. Actually, they kept in touch through her college years, and he attended her graduation in 1937.

I think Bonnie had taken the box, and many other of my dad’s personal items, to keep our mother from throwing them out when he was moved to a nursing home.

Bonnie once mentioned her belief that our dad had hoped Betty would follow him to Hawaii when he moved here in 1939. That didn’t happen.

My question back in October was simple: “Is it okay to read a parent’s intimate correspondence that they never shared while alive?”

Well, I have read a number of the letters, and they aren’t what I would have called “intimate.” They obviously represented something my dad felt was important enough to keep them close at hand for over 70 years, but to me they’re really just chatty letters from a friend. Little vignettes from her school, news of her siblings and other relatives, descriptions of trips made, updates on the fate of her school’s athletic teams.

Here’s a link to one of her letters. In one place she refers to his visit to see her in Michigan, which helps to date the letter. I believe his visit was in the summer of 1933, when he and a friend hitchhiked to the Chicago Worlds Fair that opened earlier that year. So this letter was written sometime after that.

I felt a bit let down after reading it. I was obviously hoping I would learn something more about my dad from the letters from this youthful romance. Maybe that will still happen as additional letters turn up. We’ll see.