Before Hawaiians had a written language, storytelling was vital for preserving history, culture, and traditions. Known as mo‘olelo, these oral narratives connected people to their kūpuna (ancestors), ‘āina (the land), and na akua (the gods). Stories reinforced social and cultural identity, linking families, ali‘i (chiefs), and the land while shaping traditions and beliefs.
Storytelling is the foundation of knowledge that shapes our traditions and beliefs. We strive to share this connection to our past by keeping our history alive, ensuring that even today, the voices of the past still speak through the mo‘olelo that have been passed down.
As we continue to honor the power of storytelling, we will share mo‘olelo that explore the mysterious and unexplained. Many of these stories reveal how deeply Hawaiians believed in the presence of spirits, omens, and ancestral guidance.
Hawaiians did not separate the natural from the spiritual. Instead, they viewed them as deeply connected. There was no exact word for “supernatural” in ancient Hawai‘i because spiritual occurrences were considered part of everyday life. In those ancient days, encounters with ‘aumākua (family guardian spirits), night marchers (huaka‘i pō), and lapu (ghosts) were accepted realities. Terms like mana (spiritual power) and ho‘ailona (omens) described these experiences, reflecting a worldview where the unseen was as real as the seen.
With the arrival of foreigners, new beliefs and spirits merged into Hawai‘i’s cultural fabric. Tales of faceless spirits, obake, and aswang became part of the local lore, shared alongside legends of night marchers and lapu. These stories illustrate our Island community, where different cultures, and their ghosts, coexist.
In the following stories, we will explore the hauntings, legends, and supernatural experiences that continue to shape Hawai‘i’s rich storytelling tradition. Our first story brings us to Downtown Honolulu.
The ‘Ewa-mauka corner of North King Street and Nu‘uanu Avenue is currently occupied by a newly restored structure whose facade has been kept as close to the original as possible. Named “Hocking Hale,” the building is part of the city’s adaptive reuse project aimed at creating much-needed affordable rental housing for qualified individuals.
Before Hocking Hale, the building housed First Hawaiian Bank, which acquired the First Interstate/American Security Bank that previously occupied the space. Prior to that, it was the Chinese-American Bank. However, the building existed before the basement and first floor were redesigned to accommodate the bank.
When the building was initially completed in 1914, the first floor boasted six new storefronts along King Street and Nu‘uanu Avenue. The second floor was set aside for “sample rooms” where traveling salesmen could display and sell their goods for a fee, and the third floor was made up of hotel-style rooms available for short-term rental. Prior to the Hocking building, a wooden two-story structure housed a Merchants’ Exchange that sold liquor and beer and later became a saloon.
Going further back, before wooden and stone structures were built over that parcel of land, there stood a lōkū, a place for indoor games and evening entertainment. Hawaiian politician, historian, and royal advisor to the Kamehameha dynasty, John Papa ‘Ī‘ī, describes a lōkū as “a place where men and women of every kind gathered in the evenings to enjoy themselves.”
Some amusements indulged in were hula and oli and games such as kilu and puhenehene. According to ‘Ī‘ī, the ghosts of earlier participants who once enjoyed gathering here are said to congregate in this lōkū every evening from seven o’clock until midnight. Even the legendary night marchers are said to pass through this place.
In his book Hawaiian Legends of Old Honolulu, William Drake Westervelt confirms the lōkū as a gathering spot for wailua (ghosts), stating that the ghosts in these places made nighttime a source of dread.
Several people who worked in the bank said the building is indeed haunted, and working anytime after dark was especially creepy. Some said they saw dark, moving shapes in the corners and along the walls, even though no one was present to cast a shadow. Others claimed that they would hear whispering when no one was near them. One worker involved in the recent restoration and conversion of Hocking Hale said he and his coworkers often felt an eerie presence while working in the basement, where the vault is located.
What will the new tenants think?
