Another blog to keep an eye on, 2012.

Here is another blog you might want to check out:

Kuamoolelo

Related to our posts this morning of death announcements by Sam M. Nihipali which are very descriptive and seem almost more poetry than prose… Kuamoolelo just posted a number of kanikau, which are mele written at the death of someone dear that one feels much aloha for. From these kanikau you can perhaps get a deeper feel for the emotion the composer felt for the deceased, and also often times detailed biographical information as well.

By any means, check them out and see what you can see.

Lahapa Smith passes away, 1925.

A EULOGY FOR MY YOUNGER SIBLING WHO HAS GONE.

Mr. Editor of Ka Nupepa Kuokoa; Aloha to you:—Please let me have some space in your newspaper for those words above, and you will be the one to take them to the four corners of our commuity, from Hawaii where the sun rises to where it trails to in Niihau with its hidden waters of the Paoo fish; so that the family and the many aquaintances and friends of my lost younger sister, Mrs. Lahapa Smith will know.

She left this life at Waialua, Molokai, at 9 at night on the 20th of Feb. 1935, and she was sick two weeks after which she left to that faint realm; her husband was four months and 20 days in the bowels of the earth, when she followed in his footsteps. How sad!

She was born from the loins of George P. Kahalepuna and Mrs. Kaloaaole Kahalepuna, at Kainalu, Molokai, on the 10th of Oct. 1868; so she had 57 years old, 4 months, and 10 days of breathing the cool air of this life. How depressing!

My younger sister who left was a kind woman, and welcoming woman, she called out to those who passed before her door; she was a fine mother, and took care of the house, and she was a mother who cared for her children; although their loins brought forth 7 children, I don’t know how many still remain.

My younger sister who is gone, she traversed the Kaiwi channel for the town here, because her children came to Honolulu, her connection to them drew her here.

O Kaiwi channel, gone are the days where you drench her with your sea spray, never more will you chill her skin. O great swelled Pailolo, no more will she tread on your sacredness; O ulu shelter of Lele [Lahaina], no more are the days where you will love Mrs. Lahapa Smith; she has left us.

O stones of Kahikinui, no more are the days where she will tread on you; O Kaanapali of red earth, she will no longer lounge with you; O Honokohau, she won’t again bathe in your cool waters; because my younger sister lives lives over there. Aloha to that place where you enjoyed yourself.

She saw the ridged pali of the two Koolau in the year 1884; she saw the uakee [?], and she also saw the proudly travelling rain of Maakua. Aloha to the places traversed as malihini by her and her family.

Our great affection to those people who helped her in her last hours; those friends for their flower bouquets for her; and to the people who dug her grave; those who blessed her body, and the dust to dust, and the spirit to God.

Therefore, I give my aloha to all of you and my family. My great aloha to the Editor; and to your typesetters of your press, my endless affections.

With my thanks, sincerely,

SAM M. NIHIPALI,

And the Family.

Hauula, Koolauloa, Oahu, Apr. 9, 1825.

(Kuokoa, 4/23/1925, p. 5)

HE WALOHIA NO KUU POKII HELELOA.

Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Buke LXIV, Helu 17, Aoao 5. Aperila 23, 1925.

Hattie K. Nihipali passes, 1924.

My Beloved Wife Has Passed On

Mr. Editor of Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Solomon Hanohano.

Greetings to you:—Please allow me some space within the pride of the people [Ka Nupepa Kuokoa], that I may speed across the eight seas with that parcel shown above, so the many living from Hawaii, the lands of Keawe, all the way to Niihau and the foundation of Lehua might know that my beloved wife, Mrs. Hattie K. Nihipali who was greatly loved, that her life breath has been taken, by the grace of almighty God. Her last breath was taken from our home in Hauula, at 1:50 a. m. on Wednesday, Sept. 24, 1924, and her restless sleeping body was left before me, the children and the grandchildren, her elder sisters, her younger siblings and all of the rest of the family. Aloha no!

My beloved wife was born from the loins of her parents, Mrs. Pauole Kailua and Mr. Mahoe Lauahi, at Kalawao, Molokai on July 14, 1861, therefore she was 63 years old, when dust returned to dust and her soul returned to God, as it was He that giveth and He that taketh away. How sad.

We were wed by Rev. Samuel Paulo, the kahu of Halawa, Molokai, at Waialua, on the 14th of August, 1880, and so we were married untainted for 44 years.

Aloha to the linked cliffs of our homeland; aloha to the three waters, Waileia, Waikakulu and Waihanau; aloha to the the waters where we bathed; aloha to Leinaopapio which pulls along with it, Huelo and Okala; aloha to the point of Kahio extending into the sea; aloha to Kalaemilo, where you and your family travelled about. Aloha to the sea of Papaloa and where the fresh water mixes with sea of Lenalena, the waters where you walked.

Aloha to the uplands of Kauhako, where Job’s words come true, “Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble.”

Aloha to the cliff paths of Kukuiohapuu, where you walked; the rain and wind above, and you below moving along. Aloha to the plains of Kalae with its red dirt, and the waters of Waialala, that water filled with the acidic water of Moomoni and Kaiolohia; you will never again see Mrs. Hattie K. Nihipali; she has left, gone on the path of no return.

O point of Kalau [Kalaau], and Haleolono above; aloha to those places you went with your father [papa?] Simon Kahalehulu—Punakou, the point of Iloli above Kilauea—those places were traversed by you; Palaauone where the birds of Kamaipuupa run about on the salt beds and Kalamaula piled with dirt, you will no longer see my beloved, my wife.

O Kaunakakai, peaceful place of the kioea bird; aloha to that place where she was together with her tutu, Kiekie, you will not see her again; her light is extinguished, the house is darkened, and the gold three-ply cord or the covenant of marriage is severed, and it is death that has separted you, and those are the three divisions of a man’s life. 1, birth; 2, marriage; 3, death; and it is with the coming together of these three, dust is the final inheritance.

That vast sands of Kamiloloa is where the kicked fish of Hilia is, where my wife enjoyed eating the leaf-eating fish of that land of ours, along with some sweet potato, they were our sustenance. Pakuhiwa, Kawela, frangrant with the blossoms of Kaihuanu, Keonekuina is grieved, as my wife has gone, my beloved.

O Kamalo, you are not again to see Mrs. H. K. Nihipali; Keawanui, Ohia, Manawa, Ualapue, she will no longer step on your soil. Kaluaaha, she will no longer see your sacred walls; Mapulehu, the three Pukoo, she will not see once more your green fields; Kupeke, Ahaina, and your ridges; Honomuni of the joined hands, where my loved one relaxed with her parents and grandparents; aloha to those places where we were at ease, when we first arrived.

She is a native, a kamaaina of the entirety of Molokai; she lived in Halawaiki; she was kamaaina to the kukui of Lanikaula, to the waves of Puupoi, and to Mokuhooniki which juts into the sea like a bird.

My wife was kind-hearted, hospitable, she welcomed all from high to low, and she was open-hearted; her family was important to her as well as was her children, grandchildren—and she has gone to that faint realm.

We had 11 children, five are living with me, all boys. One boy has past as well as five girls, and she has followed in those footsteps.

Molokai is her birth land, and Oahu of Kakuhihewa is where her adopted land.

We left Molokai on the 26th of September 1881, for this reason: my parents were confused by the god, because the god of Molokai was burned in fire, and my parents thought that it would be found in Laie; and my wife was lured into going and travelling around there and then returning to our place. But my wife was tricked, and she remained and became kamaaina to these Koolau.

When she arrived in Laie, there was a god of baptism, not like the God of Molokai; touch the sky and tumble down—she stayed in Laie for about 10 years, and then down in Kaluanui for over five years. She then got some land in Hauula and I joined my beloved wife and we lived there until becoming kamaaina of that proud land, which I carried upon my back.

We travelled about Oahu, the town of Honolulu, we searched from ocean to mountain, from this corner to that. It was in Puunui that we enjoyed ourselves with my younger sibling and children. We shall no longer see her; she has left, she is gone to the dark path of Kane; perhaps she is with Hiku stringing lei of lehua in the forests, a lei for election day.

We were loved by Kapalama; we saw the Launiu winds of that place, that place were we walked for our health; aloha to Pauahi Street, the crossing of automobiles; that place where we were confused with the children of China and Japan; we were acquainted with these Koolau in the horse cart days; when those were insufficient, came the days of the truck and we were there; with the days of the automobile, you sleep the sleep of winter. Aloha to our home, Halealoha; you gave your aloha to those of high and low status, to the length and breadth, you gave your aloha to all.

Aloha to Ewa with its hushed crustacean [oyster], where our elder sibling lives; we went there; and to Waialua, the place of our makua (aunties and uncles), Peter Kailio and Mrs. Pulewia P. Kailio; aloha to those two mountains where we enjoyed ourselves and listened to the voice of the sea of Puaena; aloha to Kahuku, the land that floats on the sea, Laie borne on the wings of birds; Kaipapau with its angry opule; Kaoo and Waikulama, we were constantly blessed; but you are left without, and i am left without; how sad!

All of your kind deeds for me are an unforgettable memorial of you for all times.

I offer my appreciation to all of the people who stood with me in my hours of grief and sorrow, as well as to all the people who gave their gift of flowers atop the body of my beloved wife; aloha to her elder siblings, Mr. and Mrs. Kapanookalani for their taking of their younger sister to the cemetery, and our beloved child, W. A. Kanakanui for his taking the important things which will bring comfort to the body, as well as the people who dug her grave, and those who took her and who followed her in her last journey, blessed by Mr. Kapanookalani in this house, and I. K. Palea for the grave, and the body was put in the beloved earth at Lanakila.

Please accept my boundless appreciation for each of you, and may God bless us all. Amen.

I close here with my appreciation to the Editor, and to the children who set the type of your printing press my endless regards.

With mahalo,

Sincerely, SAM M. NIHIPALI,

and the Family.

Hauula, Koolaupoko, Oct. 1, 1924.

(Kuokoa, 10/16/1924, p. 5)

KUU WAHINE ALOHA UA HALA

Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Buke LXIII, Helu 42, Aoao 5. Okatoba 16, 1924.