by Rose Cruz Churma
Last September 9, 2024, the County of Kaua’i held a special ceremony commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Hanapēpē Massacre of 1924—a flashpoint in Hawai’i’s history of labor movements.
Aside from the customary gathering and speeches by dignitaries, the authors of this book released a limited edition of 100 copies in observance of the centennial of the Hanapēpē Massacre.
As the authors noted in the introduction, it is imperative to commemorate the centennial and “honor the 20 precious lives that were cut short on that tragic day.”
More than half a century after this tragedy occurred, the University of Hawai’i’s Ethnic Studies Oral History Project published The 1924 Filipino Strike on Kaua’i in two volumes.
The publication contained the results of the interviews of Filipino plantation workers who knew about the strike and massacre, or those who heard about it including prominent individuals of the community during the strike.
A total of 34 individuals were interviewed. Photographs were also taken of the interviewees.
This 1979 publication would serve as a crucial reference for recent researchers in helping them identify the 16 workers and four deputized police who died in that confrontation and confirm their burial sites.
The names of the deputized police were published in the newspapers in 1924. Still, the Filipino plantation workers were not correctly identified by the Honolulu newspapers, and the local The Garden Isle did not even publish their names.
The gravesite of the 16 workers was also left unmarked and was shrouded in mystery for almost a century—until now.
What led to this massacre?
The territory-wide Filipino sugar plantation strike of 1924 led by Pablo Manlapit started on O’ahu in April and gathered momentum in the following months on the islands of Hawai’i, Maui, and Kaua’i.
Kaua’i was the last island to strike. Near Hanapēpē was Makaweli Plantation where striking workers were mostly from the Visayan region of the Philippines. Some workers from the Ilocos region were reportedly unwilling to join the strike.
Two non-striking Ilokano workers from Makaweli Plantation biked into Hanapēpē to buy shoes and were captured by the Visayan strikers and held at the strike camp located at the Japanese Language School.
On September 9, 1924, West Kaua’i’s sheriff along with armed deputized special police arrived at the strike camp to “arrest” the captured men, the only legal means to retrieve them, and the two were turned over by the strikers to the authorities.
The strikers followed the authorities as they led the two away and a confrontation started the violence between the police and strikers, resulting in the death of 16 Filipino strikers and four policemen.
Certain portions of the interviews with witnesses were quoted in the book which infer what had precipitated the shooting from the sharpshooters positioned on the hills above the area of confrontation.
More than a hundred strikers were arrested, and most were indicted for rioting. Those who offered a guilty plea received prison sentences. The strike leaders were jailed and some were deported, including Pablo Manlapit.
Filipino workers made great sacrifices for Hawai‘i’s working class, organizing 12 strikes between 1920 and 1940 which laid the groundwork for productive worker-management agreements in the 1960s to the 70s, and its impact is still felt today as the struggle shifted from the sugar plantations to the “new plantation” of the visitor industry.
The Hanapēpē Massacre is a tragic event in the history of labor movements in Hawai’i.
Not much was known about the 16 workers who lost their lives, and would probably continue to be shrouded in mystery—as the title of the book states—until now.
For this we need to thank the authors, particularly Catherine Pascual Lo, whose labor of love, patience, and perseverance unraveled the mystery.
Born and raised in the Ilocos region of the Philippines, Catherine’s father came to Hawai’i in 1946 and the family joined him in 1954.
After graduating from Kaua’i High School, she attended college in Pennsylvania but transferred to the UH Manoa during her senior year. She received her Master of Librarianship from the University of Washington and retired as head librarian from Kaua’i Community College after close to two decades as an academic librarian.
It was Catherine’s familiarity with Filipino names and the way they are typically spelled helped in “what seemed like a futile exercise…”
We honor the 16 Filipino workers who gave up their lives in 1924 by providing their full names and their personal stories, thus they cease to be ciphers in history but real people who fought for the dream of a better life.
Salvador Acupang was one of the strike leaders. A native of Capiz, he enlisted in the US Army in 1911. He died at 35 from a gunshot wound in the head.
Elias Amor arrived in 1922 with his wife and two children. Originally from Cebu, he died the day following the massacre from shock and hemorrhage due to his gunshot wounds.
Gregory Anoy was a native of Iloilo. He enlisted in the US National Guard in 1917 and was honorably discharged in 1919 after WWI. Married and one of the strike leaders, he died at the scene from a gunshot wound in the chest.
Gregorio Atis was from the province of Cebu. He arrived in the islands in 1921 and was sent to Koloa Plantation. He died at the scene from a gunshot wound in the head.
Juan Balas came to Hawai’i in 1922 and was assigned to the Hakalau Plantation in Hilo. He was born in Cagayan and is the only Ilokano in the group. The 24-year-old may have come from Hilo to join the strike. He died from a gunshot wound in the neck.
Andres Butron arrived in January 1924 with his wife, Anastasia Jaspe, from Bohol. He died the next day from shock and hemorrhage due to a wound to his leg which was amputated.
Isidoro Cabalida and his wife Valerina Lastimosa arrived in Hawai’i from Cebu in December 1923. He died from a gunshot wound in the abdomen.
Andres Canete arrived with his wife Feliciana Ortiz and nine-year-old daughter in 1922. The family hailed from Cebu. He died from a gunshot wound in the head the next day, September 9, 1924.
Leoncio Laspina was a native of Siquijor Island, single, and at 24 was employed at Koloa Plantation. He died from a gunshot wound in the chest.
Pedro Montecillo was married and hailed from Leyte. He died on September 10 from gunshot wounds to the lungs.
Potenciano Peson of Cebu arrived in Hawai’i in 1917. He and Casiano Jambo arrived on the same steamer and both would lose their lives at the massacre. He died from gunshot wounds to the lungs.
Roque Ramos was a native of Cebu and was married to Apolonia Garcia. The couple arrived in January 1922. Based on the UH Oral History project, witnesses claim that he was “shot in the lower back and the bullet exited through the stomach.” He left behind a wife and a 1-1/2-year-old toddler.
Teofilo Sacarias of Iloilo was 24, single, and lived at Makaweli Camp 4. He died from gunshot wounds to the back and abdomen.
Valentin Tindoy, single was from Bohol and arrived in Honolulu in 1922. Employed by Koloa Plantation, the 24-year-old died from a gunshot wound to the lungs.
Santos Zacarias, single, was a native of Bohol. At 22, he lived at Makaweli Camp 4 and died from shock and hemorrhage from gunshot wounds to the back and abdomen.
By definition, a “massacre” is “an indiscriminate and brutal slaughter of people.” The authors insist that what happened in Hanapēpē was a massacre, contrary to what some historians claim. The 16 Filipinos died from gunshot wounds on different parts of their bodies.
This book was supposed to be part of an anthology. A volunteer committee was formed in 2019 to research and understand the 1924 Filipino Strike in Kaua’i and “look into the Hanapēpē Massacre.” Each committee member wrote independently of their research “without pretense of being scholarly.”
Thus, this publication is free of academic jargon, but each bit of information presented is credited with properly acknowledged and vetted sources.
The book’s co-author is Karl H. Y. Lo who was with the US Coast Guard for 20 years. He was born in Makaweli, Kauai—in what was the Makaweli Hospital where the wounded were treated after the massacre.
A graduate of Kaua’i High School, he also attended Kaua’i Community College. Since retirement as Senior Chief from the US Coast Guard, he picked up a lot of hobbies, one of which is in photography—which proved providential for the book. His photographs of the committee’s efforts to find the graves of the victims are well documented.
In the book’s preface, the authors wrote: “Then Filipino plantation workers who dared to go on strike in 1924 left a legacy of activism worthy of praise.”
On another section of the book, they wrote: “Their story must be told…(and) should be part of Hawai’i’s written history so it becomes common knowledge.”
In this, they succeeded.
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