Talking Hawai`i's Story: Oral Histories of an Island People

MY KALIA HOME

FRED HO‘OLAE PAOA MY KÄLIA HOME I miss the area very much. I miss the fishing. I used to get my fishing gear—small pole with a reel—leave it in my car. I used to get up at 5:30 in the morning. And I used to go to DeRussy. There was a little pier that went out. Catch two or three päpios. Come home, cook it for breakfast, then go to work. What the hell’s better than that? You tell me. The seventh of twelve children, Fred Paoa was born in 1905 to Henry Ho‘olae Paoa and Florence Bridges Paoa. The Paoa family residence sat on an approximately one-acre lot—now part of the Hilton Hawaiian Village hotel grounds—in the close-knit neighborhood of Kälia in Waikïkï. After attending Waikïkï and Ka‘ahumanu Elementary Schools, Paoa entered St. Louis College, a preparatory school, graduating in 1924. He earned his bachelor of science degree from the University of Hawai‘i in 1928. Paoa joined the Honolulu Police Department in 1932 as a patrolman and retired in 1968 as assistant police chief. At the time of the interview, Fred Paoa and his wife Madelyn, who were parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, lived in Foster Village. He died in 2002. Paoa was interviewed in 1985 for COH’s Waikïkï, 1900–1985: Oral Histories , demonstrating a ready memory for the people, places, and events in his life. Interviewer Warren Nishimoto noted at the time: “Mr. Paoa was hesitant at first to be interviewed, but as I asked more questions and mentioned more names, he became supportive and open.” * * * * * My dad, he had nets. He was quite a fisherman. Catching kala, mullets, weke, et cetera. Sometimes we catch about a hundred, a hundred fifty kala, and we never sold them. We gave it to the neighbors, Hawaiians, whoever. That was 212 Talking Hawai‘i’s Story the custom in those days for the neighbors to share their catch with their relatives and friends. My father worked as a laborer at the old U.S. immigration station out here on Ala Moana Road. He worked there, I guess, all his adult life. Naturally , working there, he got to meet these people—Filipinos and Japanese immigrants , and I remember South Americans. He used to bring one or two to the house and tell us that these people would like to fish. On weekends they’d go out there with a small spear. They’d dive for uhus, kümüs, oh, big fishes. Then he take ’em [the immigrants] back on Monday morning. You see, they were in his custody and he used to take ’em back there. He did that quite a bit. (Chuckles.) He’s pure Hawaiian. My mother was half. Her mother was Hawaiian and her father was Yankee. (Chuckles.) She [Paoa’s mother] spoke fluent Hawaiian . And we answered in English. I’m sorry she didn’t force us to learn Hawaiian . We had all the chance to learn the language. I was born in Kälia, on the corner of Ala Moana and Kälia Road. It was a property there of about at least 45,[000] or 46,000 square feet. Quite a big old rambling house [with] the old type länai that went about three-quarters around the building. There’s twelve in the family, six boys, six girls. You can imagine how many bedrooms we needed. “Boy” is my [nick]name. My parents called me that when I was so young. My nephews call me “Uncle Boy.” They see me in town, they yell, “Hi, Uncle Boy.” When they say that, I know it’s a relative, see. But I sometimes don’t know who they are. (Chuckles.) We used to have lü‘aus on New Year’s Day [for] the relatives or friends of relatives. My dad used to buy a big pig about three days before. Big live pig, Paoa children in their backyard , ca. 1912 (photo courtesy of Fred Paoa). Paoa, “My Kälia Home” 213 maybe 200 pounds. Every year, New Year’s Eve, [the pig] would get out. And it was all over the neighborhood. Everybody’s chasing him. And everybody knows the Paoas are having a lü‘au. So they finally catch up with him, and we dress the pig in the morning, cook it. We had...