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May 18, 2025 by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

John Howard Midkiff Sr

John Howard Midkiff, son of James Jesse and Bertha (Wilson) Midkiff, was born January 16, 1893, in Stonington, Christian County, Illinois. His mother died when he was only 3-½ years old. His father was a Baptist preacher, who never made more than $62 a month and raised the 5 boys and 2 girls himself and sent every one through college.

In the summers between 7^th grade and high school, John worked on a farm in the corn belt on the mainland. They got up at 3:30 am to milk cows, feed pigs and harness horses; then worked in the fields from daylight to sunset; came back and fed the livestock again. (UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“I came out here [to Hawai‘i] during the Food Administration. I was at the First Officer’s Training School in the first World War. And I was taken out of there and sent over here. They had the Food Administration, really, it’s mostly food production. In case we should be shut off from the Mainland. On the island of Hawaii [in West Hawaii].” (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

Then, “John H Midkiff, former county food agent in West Hawaii, is now assistant professor of agriculture at the College of Hawaii [forerunner to University of Hawai‘i], devoting part of his time to instruction and lectures and hog raising, at a part of his time, also, to experimental and investigation work.” (HTH, May 21, 1919)

After that, “John H Midkiff now with Koloa Plantation, Kauai, was selected late yesterday afternoon by the trustees of Kamehameha Schools as principal of the Kamehameha School for Boys.”

“Midkiff is well known in the islands and his combination of thorough vocational training with experience in Hawaiian industries was a strong factor … in his selection for Kamehameha.” (SB, Aug 7, 1923)

John’s brother, Frank Elbert Midkiff, was president of Kamehameha Schools [1923 – 1934] and a trustee of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Estate [1939-1983]. (KSBE) “I was principal of the (Kamehameha) school [1923-1924] and I decided the school life simply wasn’t for me.”

“I just naturally preferred the agricultural work. Before that time, I had taught botany, genetics, agriculture at the University and I had been principal of the Kamehameha Boys’ School for one year. But my heart was always on the plantations.” (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“And then, Mr. Frank Atherton who was a head of Castle and Cook at that time knew that I had been offered a job as Division Supervisor at Pioneer on Maui.”

“And he said, ‘Well, why don’t you go out and try our plantations on this island?’ I went to Ewa first and told them very frankly that I was shooting for the assistant manager’s job. If there was a chance to work up to that, fine. Otherwise I didn’t want to go there. And he simply laughed at me. He said, ‘You better go someplace else.’”

“So, then, I went over to Waialua. Buck Thompson was the manager. I frankly told him the same thing. He said well, if I proved that I could handle it, someday I might get it. It took me eight years to get it”. (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“[A]ny plantation work I’ve ever seen in Hawaii is a picnic and always was, compared to the farm days back in Illinois. We had short seasons and we had to work every daylight hour.”

“We got up long before daylight, did all our chores around the farm, had breakfast, and then went to the fields. Took our lunch with us and stayed there till dark”. (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“[I]n the plantations of course, we had a number of different communities. They pretty well segregated according to their racial background. Japanese lived in certain village, Chinese in others, and the Portuguese’d live mostly in one place although they were scattered all over, too.”

“We had what was known as the haole camp. That was the supervisors mostly, too. They were a little better class of houses. Well, considerably better class of houses than the ordinary workmen had.”

“At the time I first went to Waialua, very few of the workers’ houses had any running water or toilets in them. … before I left, I saw that every one of them did have.” (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“One of the first regulations I sent out to the supervisors when I was appointed manager was that there was to be absolutely no abuse of any kind of any laborer. No verbal or other abuse. They certainly should never touch em.”

“And first, a good many of them’d said, ‘Well, how are you gonna run a gang, if you can’t cuss em out?’ I said, ‘Well, lead them.’ We had really good labor relations. We paid 10 cents an hour more than any plantation in Hawaii. And had the lowest labor cost in Hawaii. Cause we could get good men who were willing to work.”

“During the War, to encourage turnout, because the government wanted all the sugar it could get and we lost many of our men to the services, I gave a $25 bond every month to a person who had a perfect turnout or within one day of it. Well, no other plantation did that.”

“But then when they finally got union contract, that was frozen into my contract. Not the bond, but the 10 cents an hour extra. Which suited me fine because I could always get almost anybody I wanted.”

“We were not unionized until after every other plantation had been. Maybe I was wrong, but I thought I could have kept them out as long as I was manager if I wanted to.”

“But then I knew everybody’d be concentrating on us all the time, the whole ILWU would be. So finally I decided, oh heck, better let them get in so I can see what they’re doing and work things out.” (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“Under his management, Waialua was among the first plantations to introduce training programs, improved community facilities and a funded pension plan. He emphasized the importance of the work done by his employees and the contributions they made to the company’s success.”

“His work in the fields brought him close to the men in the sugar industry and helped him understand their problems. When the opportunity came, he used his position to help to make life better for his employees.”

“Few men hold as distinguished a place in Hawaii’s industrial and community life because few men possess John Midkiff’s understanding that good human relations are essential to any success.” (SB, Jan 5, 1951)

“My brother Frank and I started the Waialua Community Association. It was his idea. I got the plantation to donate land, the building and that was the start of that movement all over Hawaii. There are many of them now where you could get together. Everyone in the whole community, plantation or non-plantation, was invited and included in.”

“In fact, I always refused to take any office in it, or to be on any board of directors in it because I thought it or to be too overpowering for the plantation manager. If he said something when you’re furnishing the payroll for a big part of the community, people might be inclined to give it too much weight. So I never was.” (Midkiff, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“The broad aim of this Waialua association is the desire to improve the social and economic life of the people of Waialua and the feeling that with cooperative effort … rural life can be made as attractive as urban life. … The district is agricultural, characteristic of the territory at large; it has adequate soils and water; and it has an industrious and ambitious population.”

“Through the cooperation of all Waialua people, the Waialua district may become a model for Hawaii and an example for other sections of the United States as well – in showing what a rural community can do in the way of social and economic betterment when it sets about to do it.” (SB, Feb 15, 1935)

“John was very concerned to keep competent employees on the plantation. So [he and his brother] organized the first rural community association in Hawai’i at Waialua and then the second one along the Windward O‘ahu Coast, (Ko‘olau Poko, Ko‘olau Loa).” (Robert Midkiff Oral History)

John H Midkiff Sr began working for the Waialua Agricultural Co. in 1924 as a supervisor. He was manager from 1932 to 1951 and retired because of bad health. He died on May 28, 1984 (at the age of 91).

May 17, 2025 by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Kalihi

“Kalihi used to have a – you won’t believe this – but sort of a country club atmosphere because homes weren’t all crowded the way they are now. There were open spaces. When you flushed your bathroom toilet, you didn’t have to worry about your neighbor hearing it.”

“You could raise your voice a little bit and nobody was close enough to hear you. Everybody knew who everybody else was. Of course, that’s all gone. There’s no empty space in Kalihi anymore, except a few parks maybe, school grounds.”

“Used to be vegetable gardens, flower gardens, taro patches, grazing land, chicken farms. Not anymore. Even the hillsides are covered now with homes.”

“But it used to be a quiet, really quiet, open area. You could walk to any place you wanted to go. No place was too far to walk, that is, within Kalihi. But today, well, it’s just grown, that’s all.” (Adolph ‘Duffie’ [rhymes with ‘Goofy’] Mendonca, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

Kalihi, a multi-ethnic working-class district located west of downtown Honolulu, has a long history as a home of island immigrants. In the early years of this century, Kalihi, then a residential district of middle- and upper-class Hawaiians and part-Hawaiians, attracted Chinese and Portuguese residents.

As Japanese, Puerto Rican, and other sugar workers left the plantations, many of them settled in Kalihi. In the decades following, Filipinos, Samoans, Koreans, and Southeast Asians joined them. (UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

In the 1910s, “both School Street and Houghtailing Road were dirt roads. School Street extended (Ewa only) as far as Kalihi Street, and Kalihi Street went up into Kalihi Valley. In the Waikiki direction – this was before McInerny Tract was subdivided – there (were) a (few) scattered houses.”

“The first (sizable improvement) was the insane asylum (on the present site of) the Hawaii Housing [Authority]. And beyond that were, on both sides, taro patches until one got near Liliha Street. Liliha Street was quite urbanized, as (was) School Street beyond (Liliha and toward Nuuanu Street).”

“When (I was) a youngster, my mother had to prepare food on wood stoves and (I) had to chop (kiawe) firewood (and thence there was) the gradual changeover to kerosene stove and kerosene lamps.”

“When I was born and for many years, we had no electricity, no drinking water. But with McInerny Tract (being opened up), water (mains) came in, sewers came in, electric system came in. More than that, (now) look at what you can enjoy—TV”. (Arthur Akinaka (born in 1909), UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“In those days, the principal school was Kalihi-Waena, which was right across the street from Fernandez Park. And that went to eighth grade. See, we just had that grade and then high school. It was later on that they broke it down to intermediate and junior high school, and high school.”

“So, it was customary, not only in Kalihi but in lot of areas of Hawaii, where after the eighth grade the boys went to work. Lot of the boys didn’t start school until they were eight, nine years old. Then eight years in grade school would make ‘em sixteen, seventeen years old by the time they came out.”

“So they were expected to go to work and help the families. And of course, a lot of them didn’t have any desire to continue their education.”

“But it seemed like in our area, we had a higher percentage of boys that continued high school and college. Why? I don’t want to be so bold as to say we may have had a better educated group of parents or parents who were more educationally inclined, who wanted their children.”

“Because if you go back before my time, lot of the old-timers that lived in the Kalihi area were prominent in the old kingdom days. They were prominent people…. I’d read where they used to work for the kingdom or the territory.”

“It was apparently a good area, good residential area, in the old days because of its closeness to downtown, for one reason.”

For those going to high school, many went “to McKinley or St. Louis. We also had a couple of other high schools. Punahou, of course. Then we had Kamehameha. And we had what we called HMA – Honolulu Military Academy.”

“Most of the students that went to those schools were from the Fourth District. See, Oahu used to be Fourth District and Fifth District. Everything Ewa of Nuuanu was Fifth District.”

“Everything on the Kaimuki side is Fourth District. The wealthier people generally, of course, lived in the Fourth District. Most of the children that went to Punahou or HMA came from up that way.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the beauty of Kalihi Valley and the Kalihi area. It’s close to the ocean. Fishing, crabbing. So it was logical. Lot of our residential areas that you see today are that way because they ran out of space in the more city areas, closer to the city.”

“The transportation was a big item. Not many people had cars. So they had to live near their place of employment. A lot of them walked to work.” (Adolph ‘Duffie’ Mendonca, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“Well, it was sensible, wasn’t it? And as they earned money and they started new families, they started to move away, yeah? I remember very well as a youngster, very, very few people lived east of the Kahala Mall area.”

“The streetcar line ended at Koko Head Avenue, right across from the theater – used to be Kaimuki Theater which has been torn down. That was the end of the line. The line went from there to Fort Shafter, the beginning of Moanalua. Then there was a line from up Liliha Street that went to Waikiki.”

There was a “constantly changing composition of the residents. The old-timers either relocate or leave this good earth. And mostly because they better, sometimes, their economic status.”

“The other thing is living here in the substandard lot sizes and deteriorating neighborhood. “No one individual can do very much towards modernizing, but ends up just perpetuating what is handed down.” (Arthur Akinaka, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

By the late 1950s, Kalihi Shopping Center came up, and by the early 1960s, Kamehameha Shopping Center came up. (UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“People moved because Kalihi Kai became industrialized and got noisy, plus the property became very much in demand. I guess some people sold and moved to a better residential district.” (Thelma Yoshiko Izumi, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“I think, maybe when a guy reaches the top and he looks back, and he begins to wonder, what is important in life, was it worth all the effort and time?”

“When you get old, you get near the end of the line, and pretty soon you’re going to be forgotten. And you wonder whether all the things you did, which seemed very important and necessary at the time you did it, just how important was it?”

“And the fact that since most of our people are not rich people, if you associate with the more unfortunate people, you appreciate what they’re going through. Their life compared to somebody who’s inherited a lot or blessed with more brains or better opportunities, or married the right girl, had the right parents.”

“It’s something that makes you feel like somebody coming out of Kalihi that gets up there is worth his salt more than somebody who’s born with a silver spoon. At least that guy worked for what he got. He doesn’t feel that anything was handed to him.”

“How could somebody born with a silver spoon feel that way if he’s never been down on the bottom? How do you know how high a mountain is unless you’ve been down in the bottom of the valley, eh? So, it affects your outlook, I think.”

“I never thought the area I lived in was the bottom. I never did feel that. I never did feel that Kalihi was the bottom of anything, really. I always thought that Kakaako was more down the bottom because that was a built-up area. And you had more of the closeness of homes, and stores. You know, more populated.”

“Kalihi is a big area. From the mountain to the ocean. Plenty room. And we had good climate, good atmosphere out there. Things grew well. Generally green. People took care of their yards, planted nice plants and trees. In many respects, it’s beautiful.”

“I’ve never understood why – maybe a little corner or spot within the area wasn’t too good, but majority, the largest part of Kalihi was a very nice place. Very nice. I’m sorry that it’s inherited such a bad carryover. I don’ t think it deserved it.” (Adolph ‘Duffie’ Mendonca, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

May 16, 2025 by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Hawaii and Arkansas

“While we dearly love this country, we realize that it does have many faults; that there are many existing conditions that must be improved; one of these deplorable conditions being racial prejudice.”

“One of the chief advantages of a true democratic state is that each one of us as its citizens can play a part in bringing about changes for the better.” (Betty Kagawa, Valedictory Address, Denson High School; UH Center for Oral History)

Most Japanese immigration occurred between 1885 and 1924. Relocation centers for Japanese Americans known as Issei (first-generation Japanese in America), Nisei (second generation Japanese in America) and Sansei (third-generation Japanese in America) were the result of a culmination of panic in the aftermath of the 1941 bombing of Pearl Harbor. (Arkansas Heritage)

In March 1942, Executive Order 9102 called for the establishment of the War Relocation Authority (WRA). Supervision of the camps and direction of construction and maintenance and provision of security by the Military Police guard would be under the jurisdiction of the WRA. (Arkansas Heritage)

“We were all concentrated, densely concentrated, solely based on race,” George Takei, a former resident of the Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center said. “We happened to look like the people that bombed Pearl Harbor, and put in prison camps simply because of our race.” (Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center)

“I was born sixteen years ago in Honolulu, Hawai‘i. I am the eldest of a family of five children. This is the first time in my life that I have been away from the islands. . . . Before I came here I was attending Roosevelt High School.”

“I had a pet dog whose name was Duke. . . . Before we came here I had to give him up because we weren’t allowed to bring any pets here. Due to the war, we were evacuated here and I hope that we will be able to return to the islands when war is over.” (Betty Kagawa; UH Center for Oral History)

Though they were officially known as relocation centers, these areas were more commonly referred to as concentration, internment, or incarceration camps. With watch towers, barbed wire, and armed guards, it isn’t difficult to see why these unofficial titles seem more fitting than “relocation center.” (Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center)

Arkansas was chosen by the War Relocation Authority as one of the states that would be home to these internees. Arkansas was chosen because of its position deep in the interior far from the West Coast.

There were also nine abandoned Civilian Conservation Corps camps in the state that could potentially be utilized. Two camps were established in 1942; Rohwer in Desha County and Jerome in Chicot and Drew counties. (Arkansas Heritage)

Construction of the relocation center at Jerome began in late July 1942, and the first group of evacuees arrived October 6, 1942. The camp was also known as Denson as that was the name of the post office. (Arkansas Heritage)

Jerome was the last of the centers to be completed so by the time internees began arriving from assembly centers in Stockton, Fresno and Santa Anita, California, they had already been in custody for at least four months. It took four days to reach Arkansas from those assembly centers, traveling on trains with blackened or shaded windows and armed guards. (Arkansas Heritage)

Located in southeastern Arkansas, Jerome had the distinction of receiving over eight hundred inmates directly from Hawai‘i, the largest contingent sent to any WRA camp. (Densho)

School personnel were among the first to arrive at Jerome, first setting up shop in an office in Little Rock on August 18, 1942. The education program at Jerome was similar to other WRA camps with regard to scope, offering K–12, preschool, and adult/night school programs. But due to the camp’s late start and early closing, there were only two school years.

As at other WRA camps, the teachers at Jerome were typically white teachers hired from the outside. About three-quarters of the white teachers were from Arkansas, as were both school principals.

The white teacher staff was augmented with inmate ‘assistant teachers,’ all of whom had some college training, but most of whom lacked experience. (Densho) “Later on we found out the school really was one of the very good ones. So, apparently we had good teachers.” (Edith Kashiwabara Mikami, UH Center for Oral History)

Enrollment peaked in the summer of 1943, just prior to segregation, which was also the end of the first school year. At that point, the elementary school had 936 students, the junior high school 571, the senior high school 688, the kindergarten 145, and the nursery school 249. Night school attendance peaked at 1,895 as of May 1, 1943. (Densho)

One of the most common struggles for Japanese internees was finding ways to earn money. Many internees continued to make payments on businesses and properties that had been left behind, and every family needed to buy basic necessities such as shoes and clothing.

Internees who had previously worked jobs such as electricians, teachers, mechanics, and butchers were able to continue working in these positions within the camp, though their wages were significantly reduced. Others had to pick up new trades, including laboring in the fields to grow food for the barracks’ kitchens.

The harsh communal lifestyle had a negative impact on the traditional Japanese family structure, compromising parental authority and damaging the ties between family members.

Even though many were constantly struggling to make a living in this new reality they had been forced into, the internees left a positive mark on the local community.

They showed the locals new methods of crop irrigation, impressed teachers with their hard-work in the classroom, and created distinctive art pieces that reflected their Japanese heritage. (Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center)

While the camp’s security had initially been quite intense, it gradually began to lessen until only one officer and 13 guards remained in 1944. This trend of decreased security continued and in January of 1945 the closure of all the relocation camps was announced.

The internee evacuation began during the summer of 1945 and on November 30, the Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center was officially closed by the War Relocation Authority. (Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Center)

A unique aspect of Jerome and Rohwer was the connection to Nisei soldiers training at Camps Robinson and Shelby. The 100th Infantry Battalion , made up of Nisei soldier from Hawai‘i, and later, the 442nd Regimental Combat Team , trained at the latter, which was about 250 miles southeast of Jerome.

In response to requests by the soldiers to visit the camp, a group of inmates, led by Mary Nakahara (later known as Yuri Kochiyama ), Mary Tsukamoto , and Amy Murayama started a USO. The USO formally opened on June 21, 1943.

From July 1943 until March 1944, busloads of soldiers would arrive every weekend for a Saturday night dance, and Sunday ochazuke (tea poured over a bowl of cooked rice) party.

In addition to the organized groups, individual soldiers dropped in from the two nearby camps as well as from eleven other army camps. By April of 1944, the peak of activity, some 400 to 600 visitors a week were coming to the USO. (Densho)

“They want to come to see Hawai‘i, Hawai‘i people, so every week until they shipped out they came,” Masamizu Kitajima recalled. “And they would always bring presents for the kids and for us kids and stuff like that.” (Densho)

“I’m proud of (the nisei soldiers’) attitude, their loyalty. Especially, their parents are behind barbed wire, but gee, they fought for their country. I can’t believe they would fight for their country (in spite of the unjust treatment by their own government).”

“The 442nd [Regimental Combat Team] and all that. I feel (strongly) that we must teach the next generation and (preserve) this important part of history. Don’t forget this is what happened.” (Shirley Ozu Iwatani, UH Center for Oral History)

May 15, 2025 by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Barefoot Football

“Barefoot football occupied a special niche in Hawaiian sports from 1924 through the Depression and World War II years, but has been out of style since the early ‘50s – a memory to oldtimers and unbelievable in the minds of late-comers to the Islands.”

“The first barefoot football league was ·organized in 1924 by AK Vierra to fill a need of young men not playing in high school or with the senior club teams which provided competition for the University of Hawaii.”

“It was called the Spalding League and Vierra had the insight to draw teams from the various neighborhoods – Kalihi, Kakaako, Palama, Pawaa, Pauoa and Liliha – assuring bitter rivalry and fierce support from the fans.” (Gee, SB, Oct 28, 1975)

“Thousands of young men, ranging in age from 15 to 30 on O‘ahu, Maui, Hawai‘i and Kauai, participated in hundreds of barefoot football leagues … [it was] the ‘fastest, wildest, scrappiest brand of football in the United States.’” (Soboleski, TGI, May 10, 2020)

“[T]he nucleus of that Kalihi Thundering Herd were generally boys, young men, that were from the Kalihi-Waena area, although they did attract players from Kalihi-Kai. Some from Kalihi-Uka. I don’t think anybody from Fern Park was on the Thundering Herd team.”

“We did have a couple from the Palama area before Palama had their own team. We had a very good player there named Bill Flazer. Tall, skinny fellow. He was a very good punter. It was the barefoot leagues. They played barefoot, the leagues.” (Adolph ‘Duffie’ [rhymes with ‘Goofy’] Mendonca, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

Standard equipment consisted of a jersey and sailor-moku pants – no head gear, no shoulder pads. The weight limit was 150 pounds. Shoes, of course, were prohibited.” (Gee, SB, Oct 28, 1975)

“There was a senior league, they was called Kalihi Thundering Herd. They were the 150 pounds. And I’ m pretty sure they had that weight limit, too. If you couldn’t make ‘em, you was disqualified for that game, that’ s all.” (Albert O Adams, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“The shoeless game achieved such wide popularity that weight divisions were established for the smaller players, with limits of 120, 130 and 140 pounds. A barrel weight league for the 175-pounders also was formed.” (Gee, SB, Oct 28, 1975)

The Kalihi Thundering Herd was the senior team. … “And Benny Waimau was the coach [of the seniors]. … Yeah, he was a good coach. Boy, he’d make them pull the car right around the block. Fernandez [Park].”

“That old Essex car–he would get maybe about couple guys, just pull ‘em. Pull that car right around the block. I’d say it’s good – about pretty close to quarter mile.” (Albert O Adams, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“They had a clinic, and this Knute Rockne came down. The Kalihi club sent Benny Waimau to the clinic with other good coaches, you know, coaches coaching high school. I guess maybe Otto Klum was there, too. He used to coach University of Hawaii.”

“What we heard afterwards [was] that Knute Rockne asked the coaches some questions, you know, and then they would answer. Then, Benny Waimau asked him a question, and he looked at Benny, and he told [asked] Benny what team he was coaching.”

“And Benny said, ‘Oh, the barefoot Kalihi Thundering Herd … He [Knute Rockne] said, .. Well, you better get in something bigger

than that … Because he [Benny] was really a good coach.” (Albert O Adams, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“[W]e had this guy, Tommy Beck, he lived right up there. He used to work in Pearl Harbor – he had the loot that time, he had the money. You know when you work that kind place, you get the money, eh? He would sponsor – he would buy the jerseys for the Thundering Herd. I think that time maybe the jerseys only cost two, three dollars one, I think. Good jerseys.” (Peter Martin, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“One time we had a fight in the [Honolulu] stadium. … So, they want to throw us out of the league. The guy was running this Spalding League, so he told them guys …”

“‘Any time you throw out this Kalihi Thundering Herd, there will be no more barefoot league.’ Because they figure that we the one draw the crowd and all that. I don’t know why they blame us because most time, it’s the Kakaako guys troublemakers.” (Peter Martin, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

“I played one year. And then I helped Benny Waimau, and Julian Judd and them to help coach the team after that. Because when I played for McKinley, I couldn’t play for the Kalihi Thundering Herd.”

“Because the first time they started they was under, I think, the Wilson Sporting Goods sponsored that. Till after that, then they came under Spalding. Then they formed the Spalding League. The Spalding League was connected with E.O. Hall & Son.” (Alexander Beck, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History)

The barefoot football was also on the neighbor islands, “Barefoot football which proved so popular in Hilo last year will be continued again this coming grid season … Plans have already been made for a ‘barefoot’ game between the best team on this islands and the best on Maui.” (Hilo Tribune Hearld, Aug 16, 1927)

“[I]n this little bull session a few days ago, and quite an interesting discussion it was until one soldier boy, in reference to the not-too-bright football situation in Hilo, remarked: ‘We’ve got to have real football here this season. What good at all is barefoot foot going to do anybody the way they play it here?’”

“… well, Toma, you could’ve seen the blood in my eyes at 50 paces when I realize the full implication of that crack … in my rage, I could say no more that to let him know that ‘barefoot football is as big to us here in Hilo as Notre Dame football is to South Bend fans.’”

“‘[N]ow that you’re a fighting man on Uncle Sames team, I know that you realize more than ever before, what our little leagues have meant and will continue to mean to our boys … you’ve always championed this anyway …’”

‘”Our ‘senseless’ football has developed its quota of fine men for the armed forces, just as Notre Dame and California and Michigan and Yale teams have turned in theirs … the harder the officials find it to form a league this season, the more solid is our proof that we have contributed much toward helping Uncle Sam score his winning touchdown.”

“[M]any of our boys are today faced with the toughest battle of their lives, and you can bet your last bit if K-ration, Toma, that they are using football strategy very handily under fire from time to time … yep, Toma, the same football strategy that they would have been otherwise ignorant of it weren’t for the barefoot football they played back home.”

“… barefoot football has been the best Hilo has been able to offer, but it offered the same fundamental benefits as football of the intercollegiate calibre … it is, most important of all, American football.” (Bert Nakaji, Hilo Tribune Herald, Aug 25, 1944)

Then, “With the slow demise of barefoot football leagues, the likes of which there has been only one here for several years past, the advent of the Pop Warner program is bound to be just the shot in the arm the sport in general has needed …”

“… it’ll be good for the kids, just as Midget and little league and Colt and Pony baseball have been, and it’ll be good for prepskol football . . . on these Pop Warner teams will be the future stars of the Big Island Interscholastic Federation …” (Nakaji, HTH, Dec 22, 1963)

@old.hawaii
The Hawaii Barefoot Football League emerged in the mid-1920s with approximately 100 different teams across the islands. . In the video, it shows a match between the Palama Settlement ( plain colored shirts) team and an unidentified opponents. . Bill Flazer one of the most well known punters for the Palama Settlement team. (he’s shown in the beginning of the video) . #hawaii #hawaiian #kanaka #hawaiitiktok #hawaiiantiktok #fyphawaii #808viral #palamasettlment #footballtiktok #football #barefootfootball #oldhawaii #kalihi #fyp #foryoupage #foryourpage #viralhawaii #foryoupageofficiall #foru #4u #fypage #virall #viraltiktok #viralvideos #viral_video #hawaiifootball
♬ original sound – Panaewa

May 14, 2025 by Peter T Young Leave a Comment

Arthur Akinaka

Arthur Akinaka was born in 1909 in Kapalama, Oahu. His mother, Haru Yokomizo, and father, Rinichi Akinaka “were next-door neighbors in a sparsely settled farming area. Before they could leave Japan to better their economic circumstances, their parents felt (it) best that they should get married.”

“My parents came here newly married in 1906 from the back farming area of Hiroshima Prefecture, Japan. They boarded (the steamer,) America-Maru, from Kobe”.

“Upon arrival they were met by my (uncle’s business) partner at the wharf. They were encouraged by my uncle, who was operating a soda (water bottling) works with his partner, not to struggle at some sugar plantation, but to try to get started in Palama.”

“So, knowing only one occupation, my mother, then age sixteen, my father, age nineteen, started a small tofu factory (in the hopes of making) a living. Of course, the work was very hard.”

“My sixteen-year-old mother had to get up two o’clock in the morning. And then, after the tofu, aburage [deep fried tofu], and konnyaku [a type of jelly made from the konjac] were made, (my father) would carry (them in) cans around Palama.”

“It was (only) a few months (later) that Judge (William) Rawlins, who owned that building at the intersection of Beretania and King Streets, saw my father (passing by daily) and asked (him) whether he would want to – together with my mother – move over to the premises of Mr. Harry Roberts, who was looking for a replacement (for) his (yard keeper), who was retiring to Japan.”

“And so, that’s how my parents moved (here) to (the corner of Houghtailing and School Streets,) where I was born.” (Akinaka, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

Arthur grew up on Mr. Roberts’ two-acre estate, “It was a two-acre site, (where) Mr. Roberts, (after) his retirement from the Honolulu Advertiser (as) a commercial artist due to failing eyesight, (had) very thoroughly interested himself in horticulture. My earliest recollections (are of) this two-acre site.”

“This area has always been known as the makai portion of Kapalama. Kapalama extended from the mountain to the sea. The Kamehameha Schools (are located in the mauka portion of Kapalama).” (Akinaka, UH Ethnic Studies Oral History Project)

“As I remember it, both School Street and Houghtailing Road were dirt roads. School Street extended (Ewa only) as far as Kalihi Street, and Kalihi Street went up into Kalihi Valley. In the Waikiki direction – this was before McInerny Tract was subdivided – there (were) a (few) scattered houses.”

“I’m thankful to have been born in this point in time (and not during previous times). When (I was) a youngster, my mother had to prepare food on wood stoves and (I) had to chop (kiawe) firewood (and thence there was) the gradual changeover to kerosene stove and kerosene lamps.”

“When I was born and for many years, we had no electricity, no drinking water. But with McInerny Tract (being opened up), water (mains) came in, sewers came in, electric system came in.”

“It (was) quite interesting to meet up with schoolchildren from near the school site, mostly from mauka of School (Street), as well as down on Vineyard, Kukui Street, all the way toward King Street. They were far more urbanized than I was.”

“In fact, I was looked on as more of a country boy and was finding it difficult to make too many new friends. Of course, there were always boys that are friendly to you, but by and large, I minded myself and studied, which was what my parents and also Mr. Roberts emphasized.”

“[I]n 1917, Queen Lili’uokalani passed away. Of course, that would have made me eight years old. I walked all the way to Nuuanu Street to witness the funeral procession that laid the Queen to rest up Nuuanu Mausoleum.”

Akinaka attended Japanese “language school [that] was on Nuuanu Street, halfway between School and Vineyard [Streets] on premises which now have been taken over by Foster Gardens. It was known as Japanese Central Institute and was started by those (first-generation Japanese) who were Christians.”

“However, when Palama Gakuen was built, in my sixth year of language school, I moved to that school (since it was nearer to home). From there, I continued at Hongwanji [Japanese-language (high) school] on Fort Street. So, I have had ten years of Japanese schooling to a degree where I began to (understand) Japanese culture.”

“[M]y mother had jogakko or middle school education. My father, being the only child and having to leave school after only four years of grammar school education (to tend the family farm,) felt very strongly about all his children at least getting as good education as he could afford. So, there was no question that we (should) continue (on to) college (if we could).”

“When I entered University [ of Hawai‘i], I thought I should try to take up premedicine. But I came to the (early) conclusion that our family finances would not permit (my) being financed through a Mainland medical school, (and) so I shifted to something (in) which I could graduate in (four years) and make a living.”

“So, from one year of pre-medical courses such as chemistry, zoology and botany, I shifted over to whatever engineering subjects they would allow me to take. It was a constant [effort] trying to catch up.”

“I’m very grateful with the teachers (and principals) that I had all through grammar school, high school and university, and how they helped me appreciate the value of a good education and being a good citizen.”

“I graduated in 1930 after the disastrous 1929 stock crash and work was hard to come by. I had always wanted to go into building construction because in that field there were, perhaps, better opportunities. Engineering (was) not (then) open to too many Orientals.”

“But then, the (contracting) firm I (started with) had a very minimum salary [and] was not able to even pay that salary. So it was fortunate that I had, at the University, taken up advanced (ROTC) [Reserve Officers’ Training Corps] training (and) upon graduation had (received) a (reserve) commission in the Army.”

“The Corps of Engineers here needed (an additional) young man (for) their staff. The major in charge of the local office took a liking (to me) and hired me. So, I worked for five years (with the) Corps of Engineers on harbor work. But then, come the year ’35, (and) with increasing war consciousness, it was (thought) better that I stay back instead of being assigned to the (more sensitive) Pacific islands. (I was transferred) laterally to Hickam Field (where a military airfield was to be built).”

“But after eight years (with the) Federal civil service I shifted over (in 1938) to the first Territorial Planning Board. … There was (then) a national trend (in long-range planning) among the forty-eight states; all of them had state planning boards.”

“At that time (for the territory,) it was desirable to make an inventory of the resources – (geographic), social, economic, and industrial. So, using (Mainland state reports) as a pattern, the Territory of Hawaii made its own report. One of the important things about statewide planning is (that) unless it is implemented subsequently with (projects and funding) it (soon is) forgotten and filed away on shelves.”

“The Territorial Planning Board was a creature of the Legislature. The Legislature, realizing that war (was) imminent, decided there was not the need to put (further) human resources to further planning. So, that office was closed in June 1941.”

“And rather than try to, in a frustrating manner, make a go in the government service with a career, I was advised, being still young, to try my luck out on my own. That’s how I started out.”

“I, having a reserve commission, approaching earning a captaincy, volunteered to (join) the military right (after) the Pearl Harbor (attack). But since my father and my younger brother (were) in Japan, (I was) not (a) welcome volunteer.”

Following the attack on Pearly Harbor, “the first year, we, together with couple other construction firms, produced these sixteen-men pre-fabricated (military) housing units. (Our company) must have produced a thousand of (them), which were fabricated in that block, (then a large empty lot), just makai of Blaisdell Center.”

“Army units would come, with their trucks, and haul (them away) and assemble (them) wherever they were assigned. And then, with that first year program over, came construction of warehouses, office additions, (a) cold storage building, hospital additions, all of which kept me busy. As I take inter-island plane trips and fly over [the island], I notice next to the airport, still standing and in use, many of the warehouses that (we) had built.”

Following the wars, “I ran for the Senate [in 1948]. There were six of us, and I didn’t qualify with the first three, but I didn’t come

in last. It [the campaign] was a last-minute assignment. It was not something which I had preplanned and programmed.”

“But as a result of that, I guess I won the respect of Mayor [John H.] Wilson. He invited me to succeed a department head who had reached compulsory retirement age. [But] at that time [because the position was] only a two-year appointment, requiring me to give up my business because it was too related, I had to thank the mayor and refuse it.”

“My business was something I had built up over a period of close to ten years. But when I went to see the mayor after, he told me to think it over. He (said), ‘Arthur, you are privileged to be an American citizen, and with it, you have had the benefit of public education and protection in police, health, and so on’”

“He would think, (that) when (one were) asked – and not many people get asked – there should be but one answer. And my answer to him was, irrespective of the way I felt, ‘Yes, sir.’” (From 1951 to 1955, Akinaka served two terms as a building department head.) Following that, he remained in private practice for the rest of his career.

In his long engineering career, Arthur was recognized for not only his professional endeavors, but his contributions to the community. He dedicated his time and energy to various organizations including the UH Alumni Association, Kamehameha Lions Club, Kalihi-Palama Community Council, Kalihi YMCA, Advisory Group for the Prison Correctional Industries, and Board of Trustees for Kuakini Medical Center, to name a few. (Akinaka & Associates)

In 1966, the firm was incorporated and since 1984 led by his son, Robert Y. Akinaka. Today, the company is a locally owned firm headed by Ken C. Kawahara. (Akinaka & Associates)