On my first research trip to Hawai‘i, I visited the University of Hawai‘i’s Mānoa campus, set in a lush valley above downtown Honolulu. There, I heard a tale about the kōlea, a migratory bird from the mainland that traveled great distances across the sea every year until it reached the islands. Once there, it plucked the most luscious berries and choicest fruits, gorging on all it found. After it had grown fat, the bird took off again for the mainland. The moral of this true tale, based on the migratory patterns of the Pacific golden plover, seemed to be that the bird, like so many other visitors, took from Hawai‘i without giving back.
That story lingered in the back of my mind as I studied Hawai‘i’s history of loss and exploitation. Was I like the kōlea, feasting on the state’s delicacies and, after fattening up my research files, flying back home? Could I find a way to give instead of merely take? By the end of my research I felt overwhelming gratitude toward the many scholars, librarians, and archivists in Hawai‘i who went out of their way on so many occasions to help this book germinate. So in addition to thanking them collectively and individually for their help my hope is that this book will inspire readers to learn more about the important work they’re doing to preserve and understand Hawaiian culture.
I am deeply grateful to the staff at the Hawai‘i State Archives, beginning with the archives administrator Susan E. Shaner, who early on in her three-decade-long career at the archives identified and indexed photographic images of the monarchy and helped proofread Lili‘u’s diaries. Her wonderful colleagues endured countless requests from me with patience and humor: Jerry Fulkerson, Nicole Ishihara, and Victoria Nihi. I’d like to give a special thanks to Luella Kurkjian, head of the archive’s historical records branch, who safeguards many of the most precious documents that are locked away in a safe.
Early on, Susan pulled me into her office with the words, “You’ve got to meet David!” Sitting at her conference table was a courtly, somewhat curmudgeonly man with silver hair, wearing a blue button-down oxford shirt and khakis. I soon realized he was David W. Forbes, author of the four-volume Hawaiian National Bibliography and the man who’d acquired and organized the massive Kahn Collection for the state archives. David has an encyclopedic knowledge of archives and his generosity in sharing so much of what he knew still astonishes me. Thank you, David.
At the University of Hawai‘i, Professor Jon Osorio offered suggestions on the chapters of this book about the Bayonet Constitution, as well as providing me with a copy of an English-language biography of Joseph Nāwahī. Likewise, Davianna McGregor, a professor and founding member of Ethnic Studies at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, read and commented on early chapters of the book.
Also at the University of Hawai‘i, the remarkable Puakea Nogelmeier fielded questions on language; Craig Howes, director of the Center for Biographical Research at the University of Hawai‘i and an English professor, provided introductions and wise counsel. Law professor Jon M. Van Dyke author of Who Owns the Crown Lands of Hawai‘i?, and the late Judge Samuel P. King and Professor Randall Roth, co-authors of Broken Trust, were helpful and encouraging.
At the Bishop Museum Archives, library and archives collection manager De Soto Brown gave crucial help in my understanding of Lili‘u’s often cryptic diary entries as well as offering to read the manuscript. As a great-great-grandson of the Hawaiian historian John Papa ‘I‘i, who wrote Fragments of Hawaiian History, it is no surprise that De Soto has devoted himself to preserving history. Also at the Bishop, many thanks to Charles Myers, B. J. Short and Tia Reber.
A thank you, as well, to Toni Han Palermo, program specialist at the King Kamehameha V Judiciary History Center; Barbara Dunn, director and librarian of the Hawaiian Historical Society; Carol White, head librarian of the Hawaiian Mission Children’s Society Library; Kippen de Alba Chu, executive director of ‘Iolani Palace; Stuart Ching, ‘Iolani’s former curator; and Zita Cup Choy, the palace’s docent educator, who read and commented on the manuscript and is a treasure trove of knowledge about the House of Kalākaua.
One of the most pleasant few hours I spent in the islands was with Claire Hiwahiwa Steele, sitting outside and enjoying lunch together at the Mission Houses Museum café. Claire, a graduate student in Hawaiian studies and a native Hawaiian herself, not only offered to read and comment on my manuscript but invited me to join her in singing Lili‘u’s own songs with the choir of the Kawaiaha‘o church. What an unforgettable experience.
Others who helped me understand Lili‘u more deeply included Corinne Fujimoto Chun, curator of Washington Place, the gracious, white-columned home in downtown Honolulu where Queen Lili‘uokalani spent the last years of her life. Corinne offered me a private tour of Washington Place and suggested I study The Queen’s Songbook, a massive decade-long project. That, in turn, led me to the marvelous Amy Ku‘uleialoha Stillman, a Harvard-educated associate professor of music and American culture at the University of Michigan. Amy reviewed the sections of the book on the queen’s music. Helping me appreciate island plant life was Carol Russell, a docent at the Ho‘omaluhia Botanical Garden, and introducing me to island kau kau were Inger Tully, Molly Mayher, Cliff Colvin, and Waltraut and Art Mori.
Back on the mainland, several branches of the family descended from Claus and Anna Spreckels shared with me photographs, newspaper clippings, and family stories of their great-grandfather. A big thanks to Alex and Bob Phillips, their daughter Alex Phillips Becker, Lyn and Terry Wilson, and most of all Adolph Rosekrans, with whom I had the marvelous experience of having lunch under the stained-glass dome of San Francisco’s Palace Hotel, where the last king of Hawai‘i spent his final days. Thanks to Catherine Pyke for arranging this memorable meal.
Also in San Francisco were the helpful staff of the California Historical Society and, in Berkeley, the wizards at the Bancroft Library. In Santa Cruz, the late author James D. Houston, who loved Hawai‘i, offered me some good advice shortly before he died. The distinguished historian Walter LaFeber also provided guidance. I couldn’t have done this work without the support of North 24th Writers, a group of women nonfiction authors and journalists who have been together for more than a decade. With good humor and patience, they read too many early chapters of this book to recall. Warm thanks to Allison Hoover Bartlett, Leslie Crawford, Frances Dinkelspiel, Katherine Ellison, Sharon Epel, Susan Freinkel, Katherine Neilan, Lisa Wallgren Okuhn, and Jill Storey.
Another source of unwavering support from the very beginning of this project was Catherine Thorpe, a novelist and a researcher extraordinaire. My brilliant friend Sarah Mott gave me invaluable feedback. Constance Hale, who grew up in Hawai‘i and has a wicked way with style and syntax, helped shape early versions of this manuscript. Colleagues at the Wall Street Journal continue to teach me how to tell a good story: Eben Shapiro, Steve Yoder, Pui-Wing Tam, Carrie Dolan, Suein Hwang, Rob Guth, Jim Carlton, Sharon Massey, and Don Clark. My friend and former Journal colleague Scott Miller led me to helpful historians. Liz Epstein, a book group maven and literary writer, shared suggestions on an early draft. Thanks also for their friendship and support, Jason Roberts and Katy Butler.
Michael Carlisle, a dear friend and my literary agent, believed in this project from the very beginning, as did his colleagues Ethan Bassoff and Lauren Smythe. Michael opened many doors and offered wise counsel. The most important of these doors was that of Grove/Atlantic, where my wonderful editor Joan Bingham works. The time and care that Joan has devoted to shaping this book makes me believe that I found my fairy godmother in the publishing world. I’m also deeply grateful to Grove/Atlantic’s managing editor, Michael Hornburg, and publisher Morgan Entrekin.
Thanks are also in order to Paula and William Merwin for a magical visit to their palm paradise on the north shore of Maui.
Finally, my family has been my cheerleading squad throughout this project. Not only did my late mother, Roberta Grant Flynn, and my sister, Jennifer Israel Flynn, agree to join me on a weeklong history tour of O‘ahu, but they both made invaluable suggestions on early drafts of the manuscript. My brother, Greg, offered his encouragement. And my husband, Charles Siler, somehow managed to keep a straight face while I was describing how I needed to take just one more research trip to the islands.
Thank you, Charlie, for everything, and especially for our kupaianaha sons, Cody and Andrew. This book is dedicated with love to the three of you and to my beautiful mother Berta.