A beautiful, pure Hawaiian man was saved from leprosy in Kalaupapa as a baby and went on to live a long, full, purposeful life on Kauaʻi. However, he was unable to receive a Hawaiian Homestead award; unable to realize the legacy intended for him by Prince Kūhiō.
That man was my dad, Wilfred Kualiʻi, III.
On March 12, at the age of 91, dad left us to join mom in Heaven. He was born on Oct. 1, 1933, in a tiny hospital in Kalawao, Molokaʻi, on the Kalaupapa Peninsula.
At just 3-days-old, he was taken from his parents, Wilfred Kualiʻi, Jr., and Louisa Kalaeloa, to ensure his survival. The only child of their young marriage, it must have taken everything to let him go like they did.
Dad had a tough childhood, only getting to the third grade and having to work in the taro patches and salt pans of Hanapēpē from a young age. Though he didn’t have the schooling most kids received, he did learn the importance and value of hard work, as well as the different ways to be a proficient provider by living off the land – growing, fishing and hunting.
As a young adult, he left home for the life of a paniolo on Kipu Kai Ranch. When my mom, Patricia Ann Carvalho, started working as housekeeper for the ranch owner, Mr. Waterhouse, the cowboy and the maid met and fell in love. Soon after, they were married and started a family.
Mr. Waterhouse, their boss (and matchmaker), was always extremely kind to them and to the three children born in their first four years of marriage.
Dad signed up for Hawaiian Homes in the 60s. When he purchased a new, fee-simple, plantation workforce home in the 70s, he decided to let Hawaiian Homes know.
The woman in the office told him to sign a form removing himself from the waitlist since he already had a home. She also told him he could put a son, 18 or older, in his place on the waitlist.
I’m his eldest son and I was only 16 at the time. My two older sisters were 18 and 19. She never told him he could remain on the list or put either of my sisters on the list in his place. He did what she told him to, and just like that he lost his opportunity to receive a legacy land award – because of one office person.
Years later, he lost out again when he missed signing on as a plaintiff for the Kalima Case.
How many Hawaiians like my dad are out there? How many have experienced loss because they listened to folks in authority who told them they deserved less? How many don’t even know what their rights are as Native Hawaiian Beneficiaries?
Founded in 1987, the Sovereign Council of Hawaiian Homestead Associations (SCHHA) is the oldest and largest governing homestead association registered with the Department of Interior, exercising sovereignty on the trust lands established under the Hawaiian Homes Commission Act of 1920. For information contact policy@hawaiianhomesteads.org.
