Hey, prime members. You can listen to American History Tellers add free on Amazon Music. Download the app today.
嘿,会员们。你们可以在亚马逊音乐上免费收听“美国历史讲述者”。今天就下载该应用程序。
Imagine it's May 1907. You're sitting beneath a gnarled limbs of a high-biscuit tree near the Moana Hotel on Honolulu's Waikiki Beach. You're taking a break from swimming and surfing with your fellow beach boys. One of them strums an ukulele as gentle waves lap against the sand.
Down the beach away, walking towards you from the pier outside the hotel is a white couple, sandy and sunbird. The woman holds a parasol overhead, and the man is wearing black swim trunks and dirty white socks, carrying a short wooden board.
When he approaches, he greets you with a smile. Hello there, hi. My name's Jack, and this is my wife, Charmian. I heard you're the man I should talk to if I want to learn surf riding. Well welcome to our beach, Loha. You want to ride our waves. Yes, friend, I do.
We met a man named Ford yesterday, and he tells us you're the best surf rider in all Hawaii. Can you teach me? Well, I'm not on that piece of driftwood, I can't. You need a man's size board. Come with me.
The man's wife sits and listens to your friends play songs on the ukulele while you lead him down to where you stack your surfboards on the beach. To give him a 10-foot wooden board that you carved by hand. Here, this seems more your size.
The man studies the board, admiring the grain of the wood. This is beautiful. Tell me, you get many white men like me coming down here for lessons? No, not many, but they have been coming for a long time now. Like Mark Twain. Yes, he was one of the first, long before I was born. They say he never got the hang of it though. Well, I'm a rider too, you know. I'm determined to learn nothing against Mr. Twain, of course.
You take a closer look at the man. Write her, huh? He names Jack? Any chance you're Jack London? I read about your boat in the papers. It said you were lost at sea. Well, yeah, that's me. But you can't believe everything you read. My wife and I left San Francisco about a month ago. Just arrived yesterday. Our little boat, yeah, it took on some water, but she got us here safely. Long glad you made it.
As for surf riding, you should know it's not as easy as it may look. But if you really want to learn, I can teach you. I've been doing it my whole life.
I'm excited to learn. Watching these men out there on the surf, gliding over the waves, cutting through the water, but with such grace, I tell you, you look like kings out there. Not much royalty left around here, I'm afraid. Ah, no, I suppose not. Terrible stuff, that. My wife is meeting the former queen tomorrow, actually. What they did to her back in 93. You people have been treated just the same as the North American Indian, I tell you.
Well, I don't know about all that. What I do know is the ocean and the waves. So let's see how long we can keep you upright, now that you have a proper board. You grab your 16-foot board made of coa wood, and wait out into the surf. Jack London waves to his wife, and splashes in after you.
You're happy to give these lessons to the occasional tourists, especially someone famous like Jack. Someone who can spread the word about your culture and traditions. Just with more and more hotels going up along this beach, it feels like your people are being squeezed out.
But maybe if more Americans learn about surf riding, it will help you preserve your shrinking community, and you'll still be able to call these beaches your own.
Even the Rich is a podcast from Wondery that tells the jaw-dropping stories about the tumultuous lives of the world's elite, from the greatest family dynasties to pop culture superstars. Listen to even the Rich on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hi, I'm Sarah Haggy, co-host of Wondery's podcast Scample Insers. In our recent two-part series, Three Weddings and a Funeral, we dive into the story of a German con man who built an entire life on fake names, lies, and schemes, and the unlikely true-kind twist that brought this decades-long charade crashing down. Listen to Scample Insers on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts.
Here Hawaii became a US territory in 1900. Americans began to hear more about the island's exotic attractions, its food, music, and a sport called surf riding. Celebrities like author Jack London came to the island hoping to take lessons from men like surfing pioneer Duke Hanamoku, who grew up on Waikiki Beach.
The influential men who pushed for this boom and tourism were the same ones who had helped overthrow Hawaii's queen in 1893. They owned sugar plantations, or ran one of the so-called big five corporations that had come to dominate Hawaii's economy. To expand their empires and supplement the island's sugar and pineapple economy, they built passenger ships and hotels and aggressively promoted Hawaii as a tourist-friendly tropical paradise. In time, the US military would expand its presence too.
Thousands of sailors and soldiers came to the islands, but their growing numbers led to tensions with locals and eventually to a murder trial that made headlines around the world. This is Episode 3, Waves of Change.
At the end of the 19th century, Waikiki was a sleepy village of dirt roads, grasslots, and a few small hotels, three miles southeast of downtown Honolulu. Much of the land had once been a vacation spot for Hawaiian royalty, a place for kings and queens and their families to escape Iolani Palace and enjoy the cool ocean breeze.
When Hawaii became a US territory at the turn of the century, the same American lawyers and businessmen who had overthrown Queen Liliokalani turned their attention to Waikiki and began transforming it into a tourist destination for wealthy Americans. One of their leaders was Lauren Thurston, who had helped orchestrate the coup against the Queen.
Thurston founded the Hawaiian Bureau of Information to promote the islands in American newspapers and magazines. In 1903, with $15,000 from the territorial legislature, he launched a broader marketing campaign to lure visitors, investors, and new residents. One of his favorite phrases was Hawaii for health, pleasure, and profit.
In 1906, Thurston's Bureau of Information rebranded itself as the Hawaiian Promotion Committee and hired Thomas Edison's Moving Picture Company to film surf riders at Waikiki and other tropical scenes. These short films would appear in theaters across the United States, Canada, and Europe.
The committee also hired Alexander Hume Ford, a world traveler and journalist from South Carolina, who had become a champion of all things Hawaiian, especially Waikiki. Ford wrote numerous articles for the committee, extolling the virtues of Hawaii, especially for white entrepreneurs and investors. He once described the islands as a land of opportunity for the quick, courageous white man. And after learning to surf from Hawaiians, Ford created his own surf club, the Outrigger Canoe Club, but closed its membership to exclude non-whites.
And then, in 1907, in a hotel on Waikiki Beach, Ford encouraged the American writer Jack London to try surfing. London and his wife, Charmion, had sailed to a Wahoo from San Francisco, via by the writings of Mark Twain, who had himself traveled to Hawaii in 1866. During their visit, London and his wife met the deposed Queen Liliokalani.
Charmion was saddened by what she would later describe as the Queen's cold hatred of everything American. Jack would compare the overthrow of the monarchy to the morally indefensible subjugation and slaughter of Native American Indians. But London was fascinated by surfing. His depictions of the surfers at Waikiki appeared in US magazines and later in a book about his Hawaiian travels. He created an enduring image of the surfer as a godlike athlete, buried to his loins and smoking spray caught up by the sea and flung landward, living life as the best of us may live it.
These portrayals captured the public's imagination and lured more curious tourists to the islands. But at the time of London's visit, only a handful of Hawaiian still practiced surf riding. The sport had been nearly snuffed out by Christian missionaries who came to the islands beginning in the 1820s and pressured natives to give up their language and traditions.
The man credited with reviving surfing and bringing it to the masses was Duke Kahana Moku, who met Jack London in 1907. Kahana Moku had been born in 1890, a few blocks from the Royal Palace. After the Queen was deposed, his family moved from downtown to Honolulu to Waikiki, living in a few small cottages on a three-acre parcel that had been granted to them by the Royal family. The beach was just a short walk away and their lives were tied deeply to the sea where they fished, swam and surfed.
Kahana Moku was a powerful swimmer who competed at the 1912, 1920 and 1924 Olympic Games. But it was his first gold medal in the 1912 Olympics competing in Stockholm, Sweden that first made him a phenomenon. Lauren Thurston, sensing another promotional opportunity, spearheaded a fundraiser to pay for Kahana Moku's training and travels. And when Kahana Moku won gold in the 100-meter freestyle, Thurston called it the perfect advertising scheme that would bring more positive attention to the islands.
The Hawaiian Promotion Committee then financed a global tour for Kahana Moku. His surfing demonstrations at beaches in New Jersey, Australia, and Southern California helped export Hawaii's homegrown sport. But every time Kahana Moku returned home, more buildings had sprung up, marring his beachside village and looming over his surf spots.
Into the 1920s, parts of Waikiki and other areas of Oahu were demolished to make way for hotels, office buildings and apartments. Waikiki wetlands and ancient fishponds were drained to create space for an expanded military base. Some residents, mostly native Hawaiians, were evicted to make way for the new development and ended up living in a homeless camp called Squatter'sville.
Then in 1926, construction crews broke ground on a piece of Waikiki land considered sacred to native Hawaiians. As usual, the powerful forces behind big sugar were involved. The newest attraction would be known as the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, but to some locals, it was an omen of their disappearing way of life.
The Royal Hawaiian Band Imagine its February 1st, 1927, opening night at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach. You're the head of the company that built the hotel, the largest to ever rise above the prize beach front. And tonight, you're standing nervously in the lobby, awaiting the arrival of more than a thousand guests.
The Royal Hawaiian Band starts playing as women and grass skirts put flowery lays around each guest neck. In the crowd, you spot your most important VIP, Princess Abigail Kawanana-Koa, a descendant of the former king. You adjust your bow tie and walk over to pay your respects.
Princess Abigail, good evening. Welcome to the Royal Hawaiian.
公主阿比盖尔,晚上好。欢迎来到夏威夷皇家。
Good evening, sir. And who are you?
晚上好,先生。您是谁呢?
I guess you could say I'm the brains behind this hotel. My company built it. We own the Molana Hotel next door as well.
我想你可以说我是这家酒店的幕后策划者。我的公司建造了它。我们还拥有隔壁的莫兰纳酒店。
Also, you're with Matsum, the shipping company that's now in the hotel
此外,你现在跟着松本一起,他们是那家现在在酒店里的货运公司。
This afternoon, the Princess led a reenactment of King Kamehameha's landing at Waikiki in 1794. Spear-toting men in loincloths acted as chiefs and warriors, paddling their canoes ashore to commemorate the King's campaign to unify the Hawaiian Islands.
But the Princess shrugs off your compliment and casts a haughty gaze around the lobby.
但公主不屑于你的夸奖,向大厅扔了一个傲慢的眼神。
Yes, since this hotel is built on Royal Land, I felt it was important to remind people of our history. Interesting that you chose to name this place, the Royal Hawaiian.
Well, why yes, we chose the hotel's name to honor your people in the land. Just as Martaine referred to this spot as the King's Grove, our advertising man, a colliet, the beach of kings. I think that's beautiful.
It was beautiful. When King Kamehameha lived here, this area was known as hella moa. The King's chief served those waters out there. And did you know Waikiki in my language means spouting waters?
No, no, I didn't. I'm afraid I don't know much about your language. Not many people do these days. Here's another word for you. Anahal. It means cool land. It was the name of my family summer home. The Queen lived there after they deposed her. The house sat where the bungalows of your Moana hotel were built.
This conversation is starting to make you uncomfortable. You glance around the lobby at other guests looking for an escape.
这个对话让你开始感到不舒服了。你环顾大堂,寻找一种逃离的方式。
Well, I'm sorry, Princess, I don't know much about that. What I do know is that Waikiki is a beautiful place. And we're trying to create a welcoming resort for visitors who want to experience Hawaii for themselves.
You leave the princess standing in the lobby, surrounded by the surging crowd of well-dressed partners. In some ways, you admire her, a living symbol of the old Hawaii, a place you've come to love and appreciate. What your magnificent hotel represents the new Hawaii. And as far as your concern, there's no turning back the clock.
The opening of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in February 1927 was a landmark event for Waikiki and in the history of Hawaiian tourism. But for some, Hawaii's first world-class luxury hotel came at the cost of the local community.
The hotel was built on 12 acres, least from descendants of King Kamehameha, property known as the Bishop Estate. The $4 million six-story hotel had 400 rooms and loomed above the narrow beach. With its bright pink stucco facade, it became known as the Pink Palace.
The opening night banquet was packed with hundreds of guests and gowns and tuxedos. Hula dancers and Hawaiian singers provided entertainment and the party lasted until 2 a.m. The next day's headlines gushed, world comes to Honolulu at opening, and a low-haw spirit hovers over great palace.
Lauren Thurston's paper, The Honolulu advertiser, praised the hotel as kaleidoscopic and fantasmagoric. His competition, The Honolulu Star Bulletin, published an 80-page souvenir edition that lingered over every detail of the property.
The first registered hotel guest was Princess Abigail Kuanana-Koa, a descendant of Hawaiian nobility and also the daughter of a powerful Irish-American sugar-baron, James Campbell, but her father had been loyal to the monarchy and married into the royal family. The princess was an active champion of workers' rights and advocated to protect Native Hawaiian culture and history. At the time, she was considering a run for Hawaiian delegate to Congress, but she did not have high regard for the new hotel.
The brainchild of Ed Tenney, head of the Mattson navigation company, which for decades had been transporting sugar and supplies between Hawaii and California. But after Hawaii became a US territory, Mattson expanded into passenger service and built some of the largest and fastest ocean liners in the Pacific. Its regular service from San Francisco and Los Angeles to Honolulu delivered many thousands of tourists to the islands. And their brand-new royal Hawaiian hotel was also a success.
Tenney's lavish tropical fantasy helped bring more than 20,000 tourists to Oahu in 1928 alone. But its luxurious amenities only highlighted a growing economic disparity in cultural polarization that was dividing Hawaii along racial lines. And soon, the Great Depression would exacerbate those divides. But it would be a racially charged criminal case that finally shattered the island's tourist-friendly image.
Over the first quarter of the 20th century, Hawaii underwent a dramatic demographic shift. The development of hotels, restaurants, and other tourism-related businesses fueled a growing service economy, which attracted a multicultural mix of workers. Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, and Portuguese workers from the sugar and pineapple plantations made their way into Honolulu and other cities, like Hilo on the big island of Hawaii and Lahaina on Maui. They started small businesses, raised families, and created schools, social clubs, and churches. A new middle class began to rise, and with it a new multiracial Hawaiian culture.
By the end of the 1920s, three fourths of Hawaii's population was non-white, a mix of Japanese, Filipino, Chinese, and Portuguese. Although full-blooded native Hawaiians accounted for just 15% of the population, many more were mixed race. Interracial marriages were common in Hawaii, even as many US states had laws banning such unions. And since the overthrow of the queen, Hawaii's population had more than doubled to a quarter million. And during that time, it became the most racially and culturally diverse place in the United States.
The largest ethnic group was Japanese, accounting for four in ten islanders. They led the shift from farms to cities, leaving the plantations to open small businesses like restaurants, grocery stores, barbershops, bakeries, and pool halls. One such entrepreneur was Chitaro Miyamoto, who came to Honolulu in 1899 to open a tailor shop on King Street in Honolulu's Chinatown. He called it Musashiya, a derivation of the name of his home province in Japan. When Miyamoto died, the eldest of his two sons, Koichi Rō, took over. By then, the shop was known as Musashiya the shirtmaker, and it would contribute to the birth of Hawaii's best known fashion export.
Imagine it's 1928. You're in the back room of your family's tailor shop on King Street. Your father started the business when he emigrated from Japan, and you took over after he died several years ago. But lately, business has slowed, forcing you to take out alone to keep things going. Now your banker is here, urging you to invest in newspaper ads to drum up business.
I think it's a good idea. I mean, remember the ads your father did, with the pitch in English? You remember those, and you hated them, with the intentionally bad grammar and the cartoon figures. But your white banker can't stop talking about them. People love those ads. They were very funny.
I don't know. That was a long time ago. Besides, I didn't think they were funny. They made fun of how my dad talked. But they worked. They kept your dad's business going, right? And if you can't come up with a good gimmick like that, I'm afraid you're going to lose this place.
You hate to admit it, but you are in trouble. You need something to get more business. And it's right then when something occurs to you.
你不想承认,但你麻烦了。你需要些什么来拓展生意。正是在这时,你突然想到了一些东西。
Well, I do have one idea.
好的,我确实有一个想法。
Let's hear it.
让我们听听。
Well, we ordered these bolts of kimono fabric from Japan. But we had more than we could use, so I had my shirtmaker take the material and make a few short sleeve men's shirts. It was just as an experiment. I wasn't sure people would want men's shirts with floral prints. But we sold them all in just a few days. He made a dozen more. We sold most of those too. Yeah. Oh, well, I saw a couple hanging in your window. I would buy one. What'd you call them? Just a white shirt, sir. A low-ha shirt, something. I don't know. The local surf boys seem to like them too. But so do the navy men and the tourists. A low-ha shirts. Well, I think this is it. Why not make more of those? I guess I can. I'll talk to my shirtmaker. You watch the banker leave and look at the small sign in your front window beneath two unsold shirts. Maybe if you made the sign bigger, kept the price under a dollar and came up with some new shirt designs. This, a low-ha shirt, might just keep your shop afloat.
The exact origins of what came to be known as the Hawaiian shirt are a fiercely debated subject. But its widely acknowledged that Koichi-ro Miyamoto was one of the pioneers of the style. Ads for Miyamoto's shop, Musesuya, were the first to call them a low-ha shirts. They were touted as well tailored beautiful designs and radiant colors. One ad said, Special for tourists, a low-ha shirts made to order or ready-made. Very quickly, the shirts became popular with surfers and other locals, as well as military men and tourists. And as words spread, actors and musicians like John Barrymore and Bing Crosby would come to Miyamoto's shop to stock up.
Another pioneering shirtmaker was a Chinese businessman named Ellery Chun, who returned home to Honolulu after graduating from Yale University in 1931. He began making Hawaiian shirts at his shop, King Smith Clotheers, and would later trademark the term a low-ha shirt. Surfing legend Duke Kahana Moku also got into the Hawaiian shirt business, partnering with a local apparel business called Brandfleet to create his own clothing line.
另一位开创性的衬衫制造商是一位叫做 Ellery Chun 的中国商人。1931年,他从耶鲁大学毕业后返回他的家乡檀香山。他开始在他的店铺 King Smith Clothes 制作夏威夷衬衫,并最终注册了“低哈衬衫”的商标。冲浪传奇人物杜克·卡哈那摩库也加入了夏威夷衬衫行业,与当地服装企业 Brandfleet 合作创建他自己的服装系列。
These shirts, like the mixed race communities from which they originated, were the result of multiple cultural influences. Taylor Shops modeled them after the short sleeve Japanese work shirts, worn by plantation laborers, and the pineapple fiber shirts that Filipino men wore untucked. They were imprinted with images of island life, surfboards, flowers, palm trees, grass skirts, ukuleles and pineapples. And in the years leading up to World War II, these inexpensive shirts grew increasingly popular, both in Hawaii and on the mainland. To many, they served as a colorful rebuke of the worst economic crisis to ever hit the country, the Great Depression.
Throughout the 1920s, Hawaii enjoyed low unemployment thanks to the robust sugar and pineapple industries, plus a tourism and construction boom. And when the Great Depression struck in 1929, it seemed briefly like the islands might be spared the worst of the downturn. But by 1931, many plantation and cannery workers had lost their jobs. Employment declined, a sugar and pineapple exports suffered. Some farmers declared bankruptcy, and many laborers were left without jobs or homes. Tourism plummeted, and the fancy hotels and luxury ships emptied out. But one small slice of the economy that did not suffer was the sale of Hawaiian shirts.
US servicemen brought the brightly patterned shirts back to the states as mementos, providing free advertising for the shirts and for the Hawaiian islands themselves. For the American military, Hawaii had been an important outpost since 1887, when the US Navy was granted exclusive access to Pearl Harbor. By the 1930s, about 20,000 servicemen were based on a Wahoo, the island that was home to Pearl Harbor and the capital Honolulu. That number grew significantly in 1931 after Japan invaded Manchuria, a region of China. US military leaders, fearing further Japanese aggression, decided to bolster their presence in the Pacific. So while tourist visits were cut in half by the Depression, more and more sailors and soldiers now walk the streets of Honolulu.
The buildup was good for some businesses and helped soften the blow of the Depression, but it also brought increased friction between servicemen and Hawaiian locals. And in 1931, that friction came to a head.
On September 12th of that year, a 20-year-old woman named Thalia Massey reported to police that five men had beaten and raped her the previous night in Waikiki, not far from the Fort D'Aruci Army base.
Massey had been out at a nightclub with her husband Thomas, a naval officer and engineer on a submarine based at Pearl Harbor. She and Thomas had gotten into an argument and Thalia left the club alone. She reported that while walking down a dark street, she was abducted, thrown into a car, driven down a dark dirt road, and repeatedly raped in the jungle. She referred to her attackers as some Hawaiian boys.
Massey initially said she wouldn't be able to identify any of the men because it was too dark. But when Honolulu police quickly rounded up five suspects, Massey said she recognized them. The five men were arrested and charged with rape. They were all Hawaiian-born, from working-class Asian, Hawaiian, or mixed-race families. All claimed they were innocent, insisting they'd never seen Thalia Massey.
But the story quickly generated sensational headlines and revealed the racial tensions that lurk beneath Hawaii's aloha spirit, tensions that would soon lead to an act of shocking violence. Honolulu newspapers described Thalia Massey as a woman of refinement and culture, and the suspects that allegedly attacked her as fiends. mainland newspapers raged that innocent white women in Hawaii were being assaulted by savages. Rear Admiral Yates Sterling, commander of the naval district, were Thalia's husband Thomas Massey worked, told reporters that white people were under attack in Hawaii, and the men accused of raping Thalia should be lynched.
And it was during this media frenzy that the five suspects were released on bail to await trial. Beniakowelo and Joseph Kahawaii were both 20 years old in Native Hawaiian. They were well-known local football players, and Kahawaii was a successful amateur boxer. Horus Ida, 24, and David Takai, 21, were of Japanese descent. The fifth Henry Chang was a 22-year-old Chinese Hawaiian and had just returned home from working on a fish farm in Alaska.
The five young men were friends and had been out driving in Horus Ida's car the night of the alleged attack. They had gotten into a near fender bender in downtown Honolulu, followed by a scuffle with the other driver. When the driver reported the incident, police decided that they had found their suspects in Massey's assault. But apart from Massey herself, no witnesses could place any of the men near the scene of the alleged crime, and in the weeks to come, parts of Massey's account unraveled.
Massey had suffered a broken jaw as well as some cuts and bruises, but doctors reported that her injuries were not consistent with the assault she described, and soon details emerged about her troubled marriage and past incidents in which her husband Thomas had been violent. The case went to trial in November, but due to shoddy police work and conflicting testimony, the jury was unable to reach a verdict. In early December, the judge declared a mistrial, and the suspects were released. A retrial was scheduled, but before it could start, vigilantes took matters into their own hands.
First, a group of navy men abducted Horus Ida and beat him with belt buckles, hoping to force a confession, but Ida refused to admit to raping Massey, and barely survived the beating by pretending to be unconscious. Then, in January, Thomas Massey and two other navy men kidnapped another of the accused, Joseph Kahawaii. They drove him to the rented bungalow of Thalia Massey's socialite mother, Grace Fortescue, who had come to town for the trial.
There, while interrogating Kahawaii, one of the abductors shot him in the chest. Kahawaii died instantly. Thomas Massey and his fellow sailors, Edward Lord and Albert Jones, stripped Kahawaii naked, wrapped him in a sheet, and drove to an ocean-side cliff where they intended to dump the body, but a police officer pulled them over and took them into custody before they could do it.
Thomas Massey, Jones, Lord, and Fortescue were charged with murder and held on a ship in Pearl Harbor as they awaited trial. Proceedings were set to begin in April of 1932. The evidence against Massey and his co-defendants was overwhelming, but fortunately for them, since the case had generated national interest, they were able to hire one of the country's most celebrated lawyers.
Clarence Dero had gained fame in such high-profile cases as the Leopold and Loeb Murder trial of 1924 and the Scopes Monkey trial of 1925. Now, at age 68, he came out of retirement to defend what he described as an honor killing. Dero had built a reputation as a defender of the underprivileged and his late career decision to defend well-to-do vigilantes surprised many.
He later admitted that he needed the money and Fortescue was willing to pay him $40,000. Almost $700,000 today. Meanwhile, the prosecutor in the case, John Kelly, received hate mail and death threats. Admiral Sterling and other Navy leaders hoped for a fast resolution. One that would prove Falea Massey had been telling the truth and therefore justified the killing of Kahawaii. That's not what they got.
Imagine its April 27th, 1932. You're the city prosecutor in Honolulu and you spent the past two weeks sparring with America's most famous lawyer, Clarence Dero. Now you stand before the judge. As a jury sits off to your right and a murmuring crowd fills the benches behind you. On the witness stand sits the man you believe to be the ringleader of a brutal murder. Tom is Massey. But now he's claiming temporary insanity, insisting he doesn't remember a thing. Clarence Dero has just finished questioning him and now it's your turn to cross-examine.
Mr. Massey, I'd like to clear up a few things that your attorney just asked you about. For starters, you said that you picked up Mr. Kahawaii on the eighth day of January 1932 in order to extract a confession from him. Is that correct? If you say so.
Well, earlier you testified that as an officer in the United States Navy, you were accustomed to carrying side arms. Yes? On to E. Yes, sir. And the gun you were accustomed to using is a 45 automatic. Is it not? That's correct. Did you have your 45 with you that morning? The morning of January 8th? I believe so, yes.
What was the purpose of bringing that gun over that morning? That was to scare him. You were going to scare a confession out of Mr. Kahawaii. That's what we hope for, yeah. But what happened instead? Well, that's when it all gets fuzzy. What was the last thing that Mr. Kahawaii said before you had this mental lapse? I'll never forget it. He said, yes, we done it. And that's all he said. That's all I can remember. Because then what happened?
That's when you shot him, right? I don't know. You claim you were suddenly laboring under some sort of mental hallucination at this time. Now, I was suffering greatly. Yeah. I don't remember anything about it.
So you were standing there with a loaded gun, with a hammerback, when you were talking to Kahawaii. And then he was dead. But you don't remember pulling the trigger. Is that what you want this jury to believe? I don't know. I was thinking of only one thing and that was to make the man tell his story. And he did.
Murmur's rippled through the courtroom. And while you're hoping the jury will see through Massey's lies and do the right thing, you also know that seven of the twelve jurors, all white men probably don't believe that Joseph Kahawaii's life was worth much. Still, you hold out hope.
On April 29th, after a three week trial and two days of deliberation, the jury came back with a verdict that shocked many. Thomas Massey and the other defendants were guilty of manslaughter. The judge sentenced the four defendants to ten years of hard labor. But Hawaii's territorial governor, Lawrence Judd, intervened.
Under pressure from the Navy, Judd reduced the sentence to one hour, which he allowed the convicted killers to serve in his office across the street from the courthouse. Four days later, Thalia Massey, her husband Thomas and her mother, Grace Fortescue, all boarded a luxury mats and passenger ship and left Honolulu bound for San Francisco. The other two defendants, Edward Lord and Albert Jones, left town the next day.
The Massey case captivated the nation and tarnished Hawaii's peaceful tourist-friendly image. One headline warned, race mixtures add to Hawaii's problems. Time magazine wrote that the yellow man's lust for white women has broken bounds. Tourists were warned to stay away. Many native Hawaiians, meanwhile, felt that their people had been unfairly disparaged. Princess Abigail told the press that the release of Kahawaii's convicted killers was a travesty evidence that there were two sets of laws in Hawaii, one for the favored few and another for the people.
The Hawaii Ho Chi newspaper, which served the Japanese community, accused the governor of condoning crime. And although headlines in mainland newspapers soon faded, the Massey case remained a sore spot in Hawaii for years to come. In 1933, the US was still in the grips of the Great Depression, with one quarter of mainland workers out of a job. But the Hawaiian economy had already rebounded. Unemployment on the islands that year dropped to just 7%, partly due to sugar plantations deporting immigrant laborers back to Japan and the Philippines.
Tourism also came back. The Matsun navigation company was now running three new luxury liners that could reach Honolulu from California in just four days. In 1934, tourists visited soar to more than 20,000.
Things were looking up for the islands, but as a US territory, Hawaii lacked many of the benefits and guarantees afforded to states. It had just won non-voting representative in Congress and received no guaranteed funding from the federal government. Its citizens could not vote in presidential elections.
So to fix this, in 1935, Samuel Wilder King, the Hawaiian-born territorial delegate to Congress, introduced a bill proposing that Hawaii become America's next state. Others in Congress called the idea preposterous, referring to the Massey case and describing Hawaii as a land of native savages and Japanese spies. The bill quickly died.
But King was a relentless advocate and ambassador for Hawaii. Two years later, in October of 1937, he invited a joint committee of US senators and representatives to see the islands for themselves. They sailed a Matsun luxury liner and stayed at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. They toured sugar plantations and military facilities, including Pearl Harbor.
King hoped to show that Hawaii was a strategic naval outpost that deserved more federal support and statehood. Perhaps the strongest argument in King's favor was Hawaii's growing strategic importance. Japan had expanded its aggressive military campaign across China, attacking Beijing and Shanghai in 1937, then killing 300,000 civilians in what became known as the Rave of Nanjing.
The Japanese Empire was a growing and real concern for American interests in the Pacific. A conflict seemed inevitable, and soon Hawaii would fall victim to a deadly and infamous surprise attack.
From Wondery, this is Episode 3 of Hawaii's journey to statehood from American history tellers. On the next episode, Pearl Harbor and other US bases on a Wahoo become scenes of carnage as Hawaii gets hit by one of the most unexpected military assaults in modern warfare.
Hey, Prime members, you can listen to American history tellers add free on Amazon music, download the Amazon Music Cap today, or you can listen add free with Wondery Plus and Apple podcasts. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey.
If you'd like to learn more about the stories in this episode, we recommend America Goes Hawaiian, the influence of Pacific Island culture on the mainland by Jeff Alexander, and Water Man, the life and times of Duke Kahana Moku by David Davis.
American history tellers has hosted, edited and produced by me Lindsey Graham for Airship, audio editing by Christian Paraga, sound design by Molly Bach, music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Neil Thompson, edited by Dorian Marina, produced by Alita Rizanski. Our production coordinator is Desi Blaylock, managing producer Matt Gantt, senior managing producer Tanya Thigpen, senior producer Andy Herman, executive producer, our Jenny Lauer Beckman, and Marsha Louis for Wondery.