“People may think I am a fool but I have found real happiness and, above all real peace of mind.” (Wheatley)
Bernard Gamaliel Wheatley was born the son of a shopkeeper in St Thomas, Virgin Islands, October 14, 1919, son of Osorio Solario Wheatley and Anna (Fleury) Wheatley. (Ancestry and Soboleski)
Wheatley received a medical degree from Meharry Medical College in Nashville, Tenn., and held a medical post with the Army, from which he was discharged in 1946. Wheatley practiced medicine for a short time in Sweden. (TenBruggencate) Dr. John Eriksson, who was his superior, says: “He was a good surgeon and a nice man.” (Ebony)
“There is evidence to indicate that both in medical school and in later practice the doctor showed brilliance and an unusual capacity for work. He was also successful.” (Krauss)
Then, “‘He became,’ one of his friends say, ‘a religious fanatic.’ This transition was not accomplished without a mental upheaval. Dr. Wheatley disappeared three times. The last time he was found naked in a Stockholm park.”
“The doctor-turned-mystic is critical of his former colleagues. ‘Shooting people with penicillin,’ he says, ‘is no better way of curing disease than shooting hydrogen missiles is a means of curing war.’ His rejection of medicine, he says, was hastened by a heart attack he suffered in 1951 in Sweden.”
“‘I became struck,’ he continues, ‘with the similarity between psychosomatic medicine and the teachings of Christ – how closely hate and fear and anxiety are related to heart disease, high blood pressure, peptic ulcer, diabetes mellitus.’”
“‘Finally, I made up my mind to go directly to the cause of disease instead of treating the symptoms. In a moment of lucidity, I saw all the way to the fact that man could overcome death and could control his health by living a life of love.’” (Ebony)
“He was treated for a nervous breakdown. In 1953, he went to Paris, where his brother, a pianist, lives. He wandered around Europe for a while and then came to America.”
“He turned up unexpectedly at the homes of several of his classmates. They were shocked by his appearance and the sudden change in his personality. It was like meeting a completely different man, one doctor says. He walked from New York to California.”
“In Chicago, he was a guest in the home of the Reverend William J Faulkner, who was dean of chapel when Wheatley was a student at Fisk University. He told Faulkner that he wanted to found a center for the propagation of his philosophy. Faulkner replied in a lighthearted vein that Hollywood would be just the place for the center. Both men laughed.” (Ebony)
“A few months later, Wheatley turned up in Hawaii. He worked for a while as a dessert maker in a restaurant. He quit this job. ‘I found,’ he says, ‘that at the end of the day I had spent so much energy arguing with the waitresses that I had none left for creative thinking.’”
“When a man who knows Wheatley heard this explanation, he said; ‘That sounds typical of him. He was probably telling them what stupid, narrow lives they lead and they were telling him he was crazy. And probably, they were all right, in a way.’”
“Wheatley’s last job was at the Central YMCA in Honolulu. He was desk clerk. He quit this job because he didn’t think it was right to charge poor people for rooms.” (Ebony)
“[I]n April, 1957, Dr. Wheatley turned his back on the world and went into Kalalau Valley. ‘My guess,’ a friend of his says, ‘is that these experiences are what finally drove him out of the world and into Kalalau. To a man of his sensitivity, I should think an arrest and appearance in court with attendant publicity would be a sort of final stamp of social disapproval in his mind.’” (Ebony)
Wheatley became known as the Hermit of Kalalau.
“The Hermit of Kalalau is a lean but powerfully built man of 40 years, His jaw and upper lip are covered with short, curling black whiskers. He was barefoot and dressed in a pair of tan swimming trunks and a spotlessly clean T-shirt.”
“He spoke with excellent articulation and with great poise, searching for just the right word, as if he were giving a lecture out there on the trackless beach. … Then then the Hermit helped us carry our gear across the sunlit sand into his ‘guest cave,’ a small cavern beside the one in which he lives under a majestic black cliff.” (Krauss)
“In front of his cave, about 30 feet wide and 12 feet deep and eight feet high in the rear, were a series of neat, geometrical patterns ln the sand. Otherwise the sand was undisturbed.”
“‘These are my paths,’ the Hermit explained. ‘May I ask you to use them? You see, there is great beauty in the land with the sun or moonlight upon it. Footprints destroy it. And I’ve found that, of all the requirements for survival, beauty is the most important.’” (Krauss)
“Then he took us on a tour of his valley. We started with his own cave. It reminded me very much of the cell of a monk. The immaculate sand floor is terraced in two levels. On the first terrace the Hermit has, on one side of the cave, his tiny fireplace, which is a grill set neatly upon four stones. He must use it only occasionally because there was only a trace of ash.”
“Above the fireplace, on the top terrace in a niche in the lava rock, the Hermit keeps his silverware and cooking utensils. He has about four spoons, as many forks and a few knives. Also three cups and saucers and as many jelly glasses.”
“Everything was neatly arranged on the rocks and on a wooden board. ‘I try to keep some degree or nicety and orderliness,’ the Hermit explained. “I always set my table (a wooden box) correctly with silverware at meals even though I’m having only taro. One can judge character by the way a man acts m the wilderness.’” (Kraus)
“Little by little I pieced together the strange story of survival that began in April, 1957. ‘I had seen the valley from the lookout in January of that year,’ the Hermit said, ‘and felt attracted to it. In April I hiked in for the first time.’”
“’Had you ever been on the trail?’ ‘No. All I had with me was a lunch. I didn’t even have matches. It took me two days to get into the valley. I lost the trail and had to hull my way through the lantana. My clothes were pretty badly torn.’”
“‘The first time I stayed for 23 days. Then I became constipated because of the guava seeds. The pain was pretty bad for about five days. Finally I flagged down a passing sampan and the crew took me to Lihue Hospital.’ Five weeks later the Hermit was back in his valley, armed with a mess kit this time, and a change of clothing.”
Why was he there … “What he is trying to do, he said, is live according to what he believes with no compromise. Apparently, the only place he has found this is possible ls in remote Kalalau Valley.”
“‘On the outside I constantly feel limitation around me,’ he said. ‘The instinctive reaction to a new situation is fear. There is so much that is negative in the world so many people to say, ‘That’s impossible.’ Here in the valley I feel no fear or limitation. That doesn’t mean I think I can fly. But I feel that l can always do what I have to do. Some wisdom must come from taking chances.”
“‘I’ve found,’ he said, ‘that very few people want to hear what I have to say. I can accomplish more by talking to the occasional person who is interested and understands. Try not to judge others. There is no way of knowing which of us will finally be most important in the scheme of things.’”
“When hippies came to Kalalau in the late-1960s with their hallucinogens and lifestyles at odds with his own, he finally left his once solitary home. A good friend of his said that he had dedicated his life to God, and Kalalau had been his test. By surviving there alone for so long, he had proven that God had taken care of him.” (Soboleski)
“I think a person should be improving all the time. Then, on a certain day, you know that you have achieved enough change in yourself to belong in another place on a certain day. That is what happened to me. … I have stayed at the YMCA several times. Other times I stay with friends.” (Kraus)
“’I’ve never really been a hermit I used to leave the valley fairly frequently when friends needed me. I often played tennis or bridge with them. I’m primarily a thinker. I came to the valley to evaluate things.’ … He says he is never going back to the practice of medicine.” (Knaefler)
“One of his chief criticisms of you and I is that we don’t DO the things we say we believe. … He puts little stock in philosophers because ‘they don’t act on their philosophies; they don’t participate in the universe.” (Krauss)
“Dr. Bernard Wheatiey died on Kauai at 72 on December 3, 1991, and his ashes were scattered in Kalalau Valley.” (Soboleski)
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