Looking back at Honolulu’s past, one might remember the chinaware, toys, and curios sold at Iida Store on the corner of Nu‘uanu Avenue and Beretania Street. The original owner, Masukitchi Iida, came from Japan in 1897 to open a branch of his family’s store, which was first located on Mauna Kea Street and then moved to the Nu‘uanu and Beretania corner in 1919.
On the other end of the block stood the Princess Theater. One of Honolulu’s grandest early movie houses, the Princess showcased silent films with live organ music before transitioning to talkies and later Cinerama. For decades, it drew locals and servicemen to its entertainment venue with films, live orchestra presentations, and occasional stage shows and concerts.
In 1930, a Hawai‘i newspaper printed a strange story. At midnight, a policeman had just finished his beat in the Downtown district and was making his way home. As he approached the corner of Kukui and Fort Street, something made him stop. While he stood on the corner, out of the darkness emerged a procession of men dressed in white. The silent parade moved past the policeman quietly without acknowledging his presence. There were too many to count, but what stood out even more than their ghostly countenance was the sight of a large, white dog leading the way. The policeman believed the spirit to be none other than Kū‘īlioloa, a demigod who could assume the form of a man or dog.
The article stated that the policeman was the stepfather of a prominent Hilo citizen, which seemed to lend some legitimacy to his story. There was no follow-up, and life went on, as usual. Honolulu evolved, and so did the district. Business at Iida Store grew, allowing them to relocate to Ala Moana Center, while the changing times led to the closure of the once-vibrant Princess Theater. Bordered by Kukui, Fort, and Beretania Streets and Nu‘uanu Avenue, the area known as “Block G” became the focus of Honolulu’s planned revitalization.
Honolulu’s business center was expanding, and as with any growing city, housing seems to always be at the top of the list of urgent needs. City planners wanted a way to breathe new life into the Downtown Honolulu district, and at the same time, add more living space. In 1970, the City issued a notice inviting firms interested in developing Block G to submit applications.
In 1973, after five years of back-and-forth with the city and reportedly “thousands” of stumbling blocks, the Kukui Plaza condominium project finally got the green light. Plans included twin towers soaring to 35 stories each, containing 908 apartments, with nearly a quarter designated for sale to families of moderate income. Between the towers would be a five-story parking garage and a two-acre recreation area. The completion date was estimated to be December 1, 1975.
Many construction projects of this scale experience a few setbacks and delays, and this was no exception. But when Kukui Plaza finally opened in 1976, it was one of the first residential developments in the business center of Honolulu.
Today, Kukui Plaza stands as a distinctive residential landmark at the edge of Downtown and Chinatown. Its residents are a mix of longtime local families, working professionals, retirees, and some investors and renters. But through its layered history, the stories remain.
A woman who used to work at the shopping center across the street said that she once saw a large dog in the area. At first, I nodded and smiled, thinking she saw a large stray or an escaped pet. But her expression was full of wonder as she described coming out of the short lane next to Long’s Drugs. She just turned left onto Kukui Street when she saw a dog crossing diagonally in front of her, but as it got closer, it grew bigger. And bigger.
“By the time it got right in front of me, it was as big as my car!” she said.
The figure came from the corner near the intersection of Fort Street, walked in front of the woman’s car, onto the sidewalk, to the parking ramp, and then seemed to disappear as it walked toward the building. She laughed as she said it was late and she was tired, but she knew she wasn’t delirious.
I came across the policeman’s story a few years after hearing the woman’s tale, but I still wonder whether it was the same ghostly dog. I also wonder if anyone else has seen this mysterious animal.
