From Our Files
Gov. Lawrence Judd and his party land at Kii on the scarcely populated island of Niihau, shown above. Henry E. Dougherty, associate editor of Paradise of the Pacific, predecessor to HONOLULU Magazine, accompanied the group on the daylong trip from Oahu. “As we approached the shore, the forms of humans came out of the haze,” Dougherty writes. “Our launch came alongside. Great brawny, brown men snatched at it with long poles, on which were attached wicked hooks. The governor stepped ashore, and he was welcomed by Alymer Robinson, son of the owner of the island. It seemed so quiet and remote and so faraway here on this landing—but friendliness greeted us.”
“Every other day Richard T. Araki, milk deliveryman, has a route which takes him up Wilhemina Rise and through Maunalani Heights and Carnation place,” writes Paradise of the Pacific, see photo, at left. “When he reaches Mana place, at about 8:15, he finds waiting for him Queenie, Shepherd dog belonging to Mr. And Mrs. Edward Z. Buck.” Queenie and another neighborhood dog, Pobi, trot alongside Araki’s truck on the 38-mile Kaimuki route. The dogs “wait patiently, while Dick makes his deliveries. Often they are petted by children, who eagerly await the dogs’ scheduled arrival.”
“Such pale people!” writes local public relations exec John W. McDermott in HONOLULU Magazine, about his first impression of Beatles George Harrison and John Lennon. As a favor to a client, McDermott let the pair hole up at his Windward Oahu home to avoid mobs of fans and the media in Waikiki. Harrison and Lennon spent a day at his house, swimming at a nearby beach, eating dinner with his family on the living room floor and posing for this photo, below, with his daughters, Duffi and Kelli. “Afterward, people asked, How were they?’” McDermott writes. “They were gentle, kind, soft-spoken people. At times you could sense a bit of remoteness, as if they lived on an island not shared by other people.”
Financial consultant Ron Rewald is accused of scamming investors of millions of dollars to support his lifestyle—lavish soirees, polo parties, luxurious estates. Amid one of the largest and most perplexing corporate scandals in Hawaii history, HONOLULU sits down with Rewald for an exhaustive interview. “I’ve got about $6 in my pocket, and that’s every penny I own,” Rewald tells the magazine. “I’ve got a lot of passes that people give me from Burger King, … but once these passes are gone I’m going to have problems.” Despite the circumstances, Rewald insists he’ll triumph in court. In 1985, however, Rewald is convicted and sentenced to 80 years in federal prison. He was released just 10 years later, after a back injury confined him to a wheelchair.