The name Kīpapa means “paved” or “placed prone,” as in the corpses of an invading army were placed prone along the base of the gulch. This gulch is also the site of a plane crash, missing hikers, numerous car crashes, suicides, hauntings, and even a night marchers’ trail.
Before modern roads, the passage to Mililani and beyond was long and circuitous, forcing travelers to descend a steep path, cross the gulch, and then ascend another steep path to reach the other side. The route was slow and dangerous, and accidents that caused serious injuries and fatalities were common.
When the Roosevelt Bridge was finally built, travel was much faster, but not necessarily safer. With increased speed, there was also an increase in auto accidents. A 1958 newspaper article stated that the narrow section of the highway at Kīpapa and the neighboring Waikakalaua Gulch had claimed an average of one life per year since 1942. Despite road improvements, it’s gotten only slightly better since then.
Although it’s a vital artery to Honolulu, I know a few people who refuse to drive across the bridge after nightfall. Many people believe that the accidents that happen in, over, and around the gulch are the result of supernatural influence.
Some claim to have seen a ghostly woman walking along the bridge late at night. Others say she is a hitchhiker who disappears as you get closer, or that it’s the ghost of a woman who killed herself by jumping off the bridge. Many say that if you see her, your car goes out of control, causing you to crash. The most common belief is that there has been too much death in the area, and the spirits of those who died there remain, showing themselves at the most inopportune moments.
In our oral traditions, it is said that the ali‘i nui, Ma‘ilikūkahi, lived sometime around the turn of the 15th century. Prior to his reign, life on O‘ahu was full of turmoil, and land divisions were in a state of confusion. Ma‘ilikūkahi sent his ali‘i to survey the entire island, then created the ahupua‘a, or land division, system that we’re familiar with today. This created concise kuleana, or responsibilities, for both commoners and ali‘i, preventing land disputes that were once common and often ended in bloodshed.
Additionally, Ma‘ilikūkahi prohibited ali‘i from plundering the maka‘āinana, the commoners, and defying this order was punishable by death. Although his rule began a long period of peaceful leadership that lasted for generations, Ma‘ilikūkahi wasn’t a pushover. He proved to be a fierce defender of his land and people.
Some restless ali‘i from Maui and Hawai‘i Island attempted a raid on O‘ahu. They met Ma‘ilikūkahi and his forces at Waikakalaua, an upland ‘ili of Waikele, where a bloody battle ensued, moving toward Kīpapa. By the time the invading army was defeated, the casualties were so great that the floor of the valley was “paved with their bodies.”
While Kīpapa Gulch is said to be haunted by the spirits of those warriors, it is also the location of ke ala o ka huaka‘i pō, a path of the night marchers. Could the impression of the deaths of a thousand warriors still hang over the gulch, causing the numerous car crashes? And could the huaka‘i po be responsible for some of them as well? Might the spirits of the victims of these unfortunate events still be present?
One night, I hosted a caravan-style ghost tour where my guests and I piled into our own vehicles and traveled to haunted locations that couldn’t accommodate a minibus or a full-sized motorcoach. We ended up on a back road that overlooked Kīpapa Stream. There, in the darkness broken only by a few flashlights, I shared the sobering history of Kīpapa.
Nervously, the members of our group moved about, taking pictures, videos, and audio recordings. One distinct instruction I gave was that they must claim their noise, meaning they must be aware of any personal movement, talk, laughter, or bodily functions that could show up on any recording.
Afterward, guests shared the anomalies that turned up. On one recording, we could hear a woman singing. On another, was an expletive that said, “Dirty F****r!”
Everyone was overcome with chicken skin, as each person in the group was certain that those sounds were not their own. This was enough to signal that it was time to move on, and we decided to travel to our next stop in Wai‘anae. The next day, I received an email with a video link.
The message attached stated, “We didn’t hear the voice at first until we played it back. My girlfriend heard it the second time. It’s freaky. No one else was near us when this happened.”
It was a video of haole koa bushes lit by someone’s flashlight. A conversation between the boyfriend and the girlfriend can be heard. It was during the couple’s few pauses in their nervous exchange that a third voice was heard.
“Don’t leave me here, don’t leave me here. Don’t leave.”
I often say that when it comes to audio recordings with electronic voice phenomena, or EVP, it could be anything. However, these results seemed different. Clearer.
A few months later, an opportunity came up to bring a small group down into Kīpapa Gulch after hours. I thanked that person for thinking of me, but I graciously declined. Kīpapa is always bustling with activity, even if we can’t see it. While we are always interested in the paranormal, we also don’t want to push our luck.
The authors can be reached at hawaii.mysteries@gmail.com
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