Pauline Ahulau Chow sits on the porch of her Kalaupapa home. In the photo are her sister, Frances Galarse, and her sister’s husband, Januario Galarse, with her niece, Gwen. (Wayne Levin / Courtesy Valerie Monson / 2014)
By Valerie Monson
Special to the Herald
Pauline Ahulau Chow, a joyful Hawaiian songbird with an adventurous spirit and a probing mind, died Sept. 22, 2024, in Honolulu following an illness. She had turned 90 just a month earlier.
“Pauline gave me a true appreciation of what it meant to be Hawaiian,” said Debbie Collard, a former nurse at Kalaupapa who became a close friend of Pauline. “She knew I was hapa — as she would say — but made me proud of where I came from and made me want to continue to educate myself on the history, language and music.”
The death leaves just seven residents who still have the right to live at Kalaupapa with four of them still residing in the settlement.
Pauline Ahulau was born in Olaa on Hawaii island on Aug. 29, 1934, to Paul Mokumaia and Alyce Kamaipiialii Ahulau. She was the youngest of seven children.
Pauline’s life changed drastically soon after birth — her mother died when she was just 2 years old, and her father died when she was barely 5. Pauline and her siblings were taken in by relatives.
Her difficult childhood continued when her three sisters — one by one — were diagnosed with leprosy, now known as Hansen’s disease, and forced to leave the family. Her oldest sister, Mary, was sent away in 1942 on a cattle boat — Pauline was just 8.
“With leprosy,” Pauline said during an interview. “You go to the doctor and then … you’re gone.”
By the time she was 18, Pauline had lost her parents to death and her three sisters because of a disease.
“I often wondered,” Pauline said. “How come?” Why her family?
But where others might have crumbled, Pauline kept going — and she would go far.
She got her big chance at going far when she noticed a help-wanted ad in the local newspaper. This was in the late 1950s. The ad was looking for anyone interested in selling magazine subscriptions in Honolulu. Pauline was hired, joining a team of other young women selling these subscriptions, very often door-to-door on Oahu — and, pretty soon, door-to-door across the mainland.
Pauline was not yet 25, single — and off on an adventure of a lifetime, something that single women from small towns seldom did in those days.
She relished almost every minute of her incredible journey. She and her co-workers made stops in the Rocky Mountains and across Donner Pass where Pauline saw her first snow. They crisscrossed the Midwest, the South, Washington, D.C., and even New York City where she taught a band playing in a nightclub how to sing “Blue Hawaii.”
During that trip, Pauline also experienced — first-hand — the shame of America: racism. One day, when the young women were in the South, they sat down in a restaurant for lunch, but were refused service by the all-white staff. This was during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s. Pauline always felt they were turned away because of her Hawaiian skin. She never forgot this.
The job took the group to Puerto Rico where Pauline’s life drastically changed again as she realized that she, too, had leprosy. After a doctor in San Juan confirmed this, she began her lonely journey home, knowing her final destination would be Hale Mohalu, the residential treatment center in Pearl City for people newly diagnosed with leprosy.
Again, Pauline could have folded, but, again, she found silver linings. One of those silver linings was meeting George Chow who would become the love of her life. Pauline and George married and settled in Kalaupapa where Pauline became known for her love of music and her love of words.
She knew so many songs that she was called the Kalaupapa Jukebox — it seemed you could start singing any song of her generation, and Pauline could sing along.
Her extensive vocabulary made her great at Scrabble. Debbie Collard said Pauline even had her own stash of words that contained the letter Z so she could get those big bonus points — how many people know what a fez is? Pauline did.
Pauline and her husband had no children, but one of Pauline’s nieces, Valerie Hashimoto, was like a daughter to her and was always by her side.
A devout Catholic, one of the highlights of Pauline’s life came in 2012 when she was selected as the only Kalaupapa resident to receive holy Communion from Pope Benedict XVI during the canonization ceremonies in Rome for Mother Marianne — St. Marianne.
Pauline was elected to the board of directors of Ka Ohana O Kalaupapa in 2008 following the death of board member Nellie McCarthy; Pauline served as vice president for many years.
She went to the Legislature to meet with lawmakers to advocate for the Kalaupapa Memorial. Pauline always had good insights on how Ka Ohana could move forward; she was not only smart, she was akamai.
Above all, Pauline was a true Hawaiian wahine. She knew the language, and she had an incredible knowledge of the aina, local trees, plants and fruits.
Mahalo, Pauline, for your strength, spirit, wisdom and love. We will always hear your voice in the songs we sing and we will think of you each time we see a word that includes the letter Z.
