The last resident pillar of Kalaupapa’s Protestant churches overcame tragedy to bring joy and laughter to many
Edwin Lelepali was, among many things, the guitarist for the Kalaupapa musical group The Kikania Players. (Photo courtesy of Valerie Monson)
By Valerie Monson
Special to the Herald
KALAUPAPA – “God bless.”
Whether he was signing a handwritten letter, wrapping up a conversation or seeing you off at the airport, those two words were how Kalaupapa resident Edwin Lelepali bid farewell. He rarely said goodbye. He left you with “God bless.”
What Lelepali did not realize was that it was he who was God’s blessing to the Kalaupapa community and his multitude of friends from far and near.
Lelepali died Feb. 7 at Leahi Hospital on Oahu at the age of 88, having fulfilled many times over his life’s mission of bringing joy to others. In his nearly 74 years at Kalaupapa, he understood the importance of community and camaraderie in such a remote place where people with leprosy had been forcibly isolated for more than a century.
“It seemed like he was the foundation of so many things at Kalaupapa,” said Wesley Hori, who met Lelepali in 1999 when he was searching for information about his grandfather who had been sent to Kalaupapa. “If it wasn’t for Pali, I don’t think the community would have had so many events. He was always there: playing music, organizing parties, getting another TV so everyone could watch the big game and cooking. Always cooking.”
Lelepali’s list of accomplishments was long and varied. He was a pillar of Kanaana Hou and Siloama Protestant Churches. When the last minister left Kalaupapa several years ago, it fell upon Lelepali’s shoulders to keep the little congregation going. He did it with aplomb, often delivering insightful sermons that had parishioners in tears — or laughing out loud.
The tears came early
For the man known as Pali, the tears came early in life. His mother died during his birth and, still a child, he was diagnosed with leprosy and admitted to Kalihi Hospital on Oahu in 1939. On May 15, 1942, 14-year-old Edwin — wearing his Boy Scout uniform — arrived at Kalaupapa with 34 others.
“I was told I had one week to pack up my suitcase and go to Kalihi. That was the saddest day of my life,” he remembered during an interview. “Leaving Honolulu, that was even more sad.”
But the healing power of Kalaupapa — and the community of strangers who quickly became his family — helped Pali adjust.
“Three months here, I never want to go back,” he said.
His father came to check on him in 1944.
“I told my father ‘I never like leave Kalaupapa,’” said Pali. “He agreed with me. ‘Good for you,’ he said. ‘As long as you enjoy.’”
Life in Kalaupapa was not always kind: Pali’s first wife, Libby, died young. Because medicine to cure leprosy was not introduced to Kalaupapa until 1946, he saw many friends die.
But he always managed to find joy — and pass it on.
Pali might have been most well known for the Mother’s Day gala that he and his second wife, Rosie, pulled together for many years to honor all the women of Kalaupapa. The tables in the hall were decorated, the Hawaiian food was prepared by hand (then served by the men) and the music was island-style by Kalaupapa musicians. The women came dressed in their finest muumuu with flowers in their hair, soaking up the attention.
“This is the one thing I want to do for as long as I can,” said Pali. “I want to do this for the ladies of Kalaupapa, to let them know that they’re not forgotten and to show how much we appreciate them.”
Perhaps one of the most touching Mother’s Day moments came when Pali sang a song to the mother he never knew.
Work, play, church, music
The coffin of Edwin Lelepali is driven past his beloved Siloama Church in Kalawao one last time on its way to his burial in Kalaupapa. (Photo courtesy of Valerie Monson)
He eventually would organize parties for Halloween and New Year’s Eve, including one to ring in 2016. Just days before his death, he made sure food was purchased in Honolulu to be sent back to Kalaupapa for the Super Bowl party he couldn’t attend.
“When Edwin does something, he goes all out,” said Kalaupapa businesswoman Gloria Marks.
His concerns weren’t just for fellow residents who had been sent to Kalaupapa because of the disease. He wanted to make sure the workers felt a sense of community, too. The volleyball games he organized for them were popular events that became spectator sports because of Pali’s colorful officiating often governed by his own rules.
He was a hard worker — raising pigs for many years — and a recognized leader on the job. From 1981 until his retirement in 1992, Pali was Supervisor of General Labor for the State Department of Health.
Through it all — work, play or church — there was his music. Pali was a member of the Kanaana Hou Church Choir and later, The Kikania Players, one of the bands at Kalaupapa that regularly performed for the community. Pali played guitar. Rosie was the vocalist.
How had he fallen in love with Rosie? “Her singing!” cried Pali.
They were married for more than 30 years.
‘’There were rough times, rough, rough times, but the best part is when we get back together again,” said Pali with a smile.
The church remained their bedrock and faith became even more important to Pali after Rosie’s death in 1996. Following Sunday services at Kanaana Hou or Siloama, Pali would often slip into St. Francis Church to worship with his Catholic friends. The Mormons also invited him to join them.
He was the last living member of Siloama and Kanaana Hou still residing at Kalaupapa who had been sent there because of the disease. Last week, the sanctuary of Kanaana Hou overflowed with the entire community gathered along with many of Pali’s friends who had flown in.
After the funeral, as Pali requested, his wooden coffin was loaded into the back of his truck and, with a caravan of vehicles trailing, driven past his favorite places: Siloama Church, the Waikolu Overlook, his purple house and the volleyball court.
He was laid to rest between his two wives and beneath the five dogs he had buried over the years. Most everybody lingered with their own thoughts, no one wanting to say goodbye to the man who had been their blessing for so many years.
