At 3 in the morning the stillness of a Honolulu night was shattered by a loud shuffle of feet, men were on the march. ADVERTISING At 3 in the morning the stillness of a Honolulu night was shattered by a
At 3 in the morning the stillness of a Honolulu night was shattered by a loud shuffle of feet, men were on the march.
In the dimly lit darkness people looked out their windows to see 150 sour-faced men clacking down the street, each holding a rifle. They were heading toward Iolani Palace, home of King Kalakaua. It was July 30, 1889.
People saw they were Hawaiians and some Chinese, strangely, all but one of the men wore a bright red shirt. The tall leader charging along was in a full military uniform with gold epaulets, a dashing figure, with his sword raised high.
Soon the small army swelled to 300 men following the military leader.
As the horizon brightened the small Hawaiian army stood around the palace, guns aimed. Each one shaking as he saw throngs of soldiers known as the Honolulu Rifles standing around the palace, many guns and three cannons aimed right at them.
Their fingers sweated on the triggers as the tall leader raised his sword to give the order to fire.
The leader’s name was Robert Wilcox, a tall, daring Hawaiian man, Hawaii’s George Washington. Within moments the revolt would begin. An officer from the other side came out to talk, a shot rang out, Wilcox dropped his sword and his men fired.
Guns blazed, cannons roared, men fell. The battle was on.
This horrible day had begun two years before when the same Honolulu rifle brigade had charged into the chamber of King Kalakaua and at bayonet point forced him to sign a corrupt constitution favoring Sugar Barons and businessmen.
It took away his power, stripped Hawaiians of their rights and imprisoned those who dared speak out against the new dictators. The same oppression that the British, 100 years before, had forced on the American colonists.
To stand up to the tyranny, Robert Wilcox raised an army, outfitted it in red shirts, copying a famous Italian firebrand. He was now charging the palace to allow the king to draw up a new constitution, fair and just to Hawaiians.
The businessmen had called out the rifle brigade to stop him.
George Washington had stepped up to fight the same fight and now on another July day, 100 years later, a brave Hawaiian stepped up to fight his oppressors for the same reasons, freedom and justice.
Wilcox was the perfect leader, son of Maui royalty, standing 6 feet tall, handsome with great charisma.
His revolt to save Hawaii lasted a day, the Hawaiians and Chinese fought fiercely for freedom but by sunset all was lost. Eight men gave their lives for the cause, 12 were wounded. The sun was going down on the brave revolt.
Outgunned by crack riflemen, three cannons blasting away and dynamite grenades, the wise leader surrendered.
But in a larger sense, they had won.
A few had stood against many, the good and right had struck a blow against evil, the light had shined in the darkness, if only for a moment. No matter if it lasted a day, a week or years, the point is they made a stand.
That’s what we celebrate on the Fourth of July, not just the victory but the gumption, of a few brave ones through history, George Washington, Robert Wilcox, all of them, who dared to say, bruddah, this ain’t right! We’ll give it all to fight what’s wrong.
That’s what the fireworks over the bay mean, bombs bursting in air for all of us.
