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W. Earl Hall correspondence, 1940-1945

1945-03-26 Johnny to W. Earl Hall Page 2

"picanniny," but perhaps the distinguished grandfather wouldn't appreciate it. Be that as it may, and though the Hawaiians are a fine, large and intelligent people, they still look more like Negroes than any other people I have ever seen. I can understand that the early exploreres, not having seen any women for months at sea, might find the dusky, buxom native girls attractive. But not me.

I started to tell you about the band concert, didn't I? By this time the white-uniformed, black haired players were on the stage, and the conductor had lifted his baton. The audience rose respectfully for the playing of the Hawaiian National Anthem, which opens every concert; then the regular program began. I enjoyed it, but I must frankly say that I think our band at Mason City sounds just as good -- and at times even better.

I'd worked in the morning, as I do most every Sunday, but I got a touch of church at the concert. The third number was the "Palms," sung by a rather good Filipino. But perhaps more impressive than his singing was the fact that playing together to accompany him was an integrated team of Chinese, Japanese, Hawaiians and whites--just one more illustration of the success with which the racial problem has been met here. The race problem here is largely conspicuous by its absence. May it someday be likewise elsewhere.

At home we used to buy popcorn to munch during the music. No popcorn here, but good hot dogs complete with mustard and onion. I had one. Ate it during the first of the second half of the program, which consisted of "Songs of Hawaii," sung by a mixed quartet accompanying themselves on ukeleles and guitars. The last song was blended into a modified hula dance, the band played the Star Spangled Banner, and the concert was over. 

Well, after that, I wandered along Waikiki beach--a vastly overrated strip of sand, narrow and dirty and crowded with humanity. I haven't been in swimming there yet and confidentially I don't expect to. Rather go to one of the more isolated beaches on the island. But it is popular. Mattson's advertisements made it that. And the dark-skinned islanders on surfboards are there, too. I saw one soldier in swimming with full uniform on and a beautiful carnation [lef?] around his neck. He must have been feeling pretty good.

Then followed a tour of the Waikiki shops. I stuck my own money as deep in my pocket at possible so I couldn't find it in case temptation came my way; then I watched soldiers lined up at souvenir counters purchasing the inevitable pillow covers, paper knives, grass skirts (which I understand actually come from the middlewest), beads, etc. Waikiki itself is just a mile of gyp joints, although some pretty nice jewelry and clothes are available--for a price.

Started walking toward Honolulu--about six miles it is to the main part of town, and although I had planned on taking a bus I finally found myself walking all the way. Had a hamburger (20 cents) on the way, stopped at a bridge where Hawaiian youngsters dive after coins in the approved fashion (and, when once in the water, taunt the coin-tossers for not tosssing more money), took a look at the glass bottomed boats but passon on, and soon approached the outskirts of Honolulu itself.

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"picanniny," but perhaps the distinguished grandfather wouldn't appreciate it. Be that as it may, and though the Hawaiians are a fine, large and intelligent people, they still look more like Negroes than any other people I have ever seen. I can understand that the early exploreres, not having seen any women for months at sea, might find the dusky, buxom native girls attractive. But not me. I started to tell you about the band concert, didn't I? By this time the white-uniformed, black haired players were on the stage, and the conductor had lifted his baton. The audience rose respectfully for the playing of the Hawaiian National Anthem, which opens every concert; then the regular program began. I enjoyed it, but I must frankly say that I think our band at Mason City sounds just as good -- and at times even better. I'd worked in the morning, as I do most every Sunday, but I got a touch of church at the concert. The third number was the "Palms," sung by a rather good Filipino. But perhaps more impressive than his singing was the fact that playing together to accompany him was an integrated team of Chinese, Japanese, Hawaiians and whites--just one more illustration of the success with which the racial problem has been met here. The race problem here is largely conspicuous by its absence. May it someday be likewise elsewhere. At home we used to buy popcorn to munch during the music. No popcorn here, but good hot dogs complete with mustard and onion. I had one. Ate it during the first of the second half of the program, which consisted of "Songs of Hawaii," sung by a mixed quartet accompanying themselves on ukeleles and guitars. The last song was blended into a modified hula dance, the band played the Star Spangled Banner, and the concert was over. Well, after that, I wandered along Waikiki beach--a vastly overrated strip of sand, narrow and dirty and crowded with humanity. I haven't been in swimming there yet and confidentially I don't expect to. Rather go to one of the more isolated beaches on the island. But it is popular. Mattson's advertisements made it that. And the dark-skinned islanders on surfboards are there, too. I saw one soldier in swimming with full uniform on and a beautiful carnation [lef?] around his neck. He must have been feeling pretty good. Then followed a tour of the Waikiki shops. I stuck my own money as deep in my pocket at possible so I couldn't find it in case temptation came my way; then I watched soldiers lined up at souvenir counters purchasing the inevitable pillow covers, paper knives, grass skirts (which I understand actually come from the middlewest), beads, etc. Waikiki itself is just a mile of gyp joints, although some pretty nice jewelry and clothes are available--for a price. Started walking toward Honolulu--about six miles it is to the main part of town, and although I had planned on taking a bus I finally found myself walking all the way. Had a hamburger (20 cents) on the way, stopped at a bridge where Hawaiian youngsters dive after coins in the approved fashion (and, when once in the water, taunt the coin-tossers for not tosssing more money), took a look at the glass bottomed boats but passon on, and soon approached the outskirts of Honolulu itself.