Ex-Gov. Quinn’s
Part Two of Two
worst political mistakeFORMER Gov. William F. Quinn (1957-62) is quoted in the new biography "No Ordinary Man" as saying his worst political mistake lay in a spur-of-the moment idea.
He was flying to make a 1959 campaign talk in Hilo on a land reform program and was hit by the possibility of calling it the Second Mahele, forgetting that the first one in 1848 is hated by Hawaiians. It enabled whites, who were familiar with the long-term values of the private property system it created, to take over land from Hawaiians who weren't.
Quinn had an idea to sell surplus state lands to citizens chosen for need, including Hawaiians who might want urban home lots instead of the mostly rural lots under the Hawaiian Homes Commission.
"I've kicked myself from then until now about that," he said years later of the bad name he pinned on a project that conceivably might have been better considered under another name. He was elected despite this in 1959 but it hung around to contribute to his 1962 defeat. He never got legislative action on it.
Quinn records, too, the high protectiveness Hawaiians had for the Hawaiian Homestead program enacted by Congress in 1921 on prodding from Prince Kuhio, the territory's delegate to Congress. It became a joint federal-state compact under the Statehood Act of 1959 to reassure Hawaiians against local meddling.
Quinn was told by Hawaiian leaders,"Don't even change a comma." They wanted haole hands off -- just as Hawaiians until 1997 resented all outside criticism of the management of the Kamehameha Schools/Bishop Estate.
Quinn, raised in St. Louis, Mo., hadn't thought much about Hawaii before a job offer from a top law firm brought him here at age 27. En route to some exciting naval air intelligence assignments in the Pacific in World War II he had made only two brief overnight stops here.
But he threw himself into the thick of things wherever he went and pretty soon had Hawaii Republicans inviting to turn his oratorical and singing talents to their advantage in their nightly outdoor rallies all over Oahu.
When President Eisenhower offered him the territorial governorship in an Oval Office meeting June 24, 1957, Ike said, "I hope you can do something about that Communist influence out there." History has shown that Hawaii's Communists were mostly local labor leaders who wanted to help Hawaii, not the international movement, and had mostly left the party by 1950. But the issue remained a bugbear in the statehood fight and in local politics until after statehood.
By the time Quinn and his wife Nancy, good Catholics, moved into Washington Place, the official residence, they had five children. They left with seven, which may be a record for those gracious, dignified surroundings that were occupied after her dethronement by Queen Liliuokalani. He went on to head Dole Pineapple, then a career in law.
Quinn used speaking invitations, which came by the dozens, to learn more about Hawaii. He would brush up on the organizations that invited him and their histories, then deliver surprisingly meaty talks. He also was the only governor to do weekly TV shows. He still can be persuaded to sing at almost any occasion.
MARY Richards, a kamaaina friend of the Quinns and writer about the Hawaiian scene, saw the need for a book about this central figure in Hawaii's action-packed pre- and post-statehood years. The Hawaii Education Association, with a veteran political scholar and commentator, Dan Tuttle, as one of its leaders, concurred and underwrote the publication, in part because of the importance of public education in the statehood years.
The HEA does not represent any active government employees in collective bargaining but looks after affairs for 5,000 members, mostly retirees, maintains a headquarters at 1640 Kalakaua Ave., manages assets of $8 million and has annual income of $450,000, according to its president, Dr. Hubert V. Everly. The book is in local stores for $26.
Read Part 1 from last Tuesday
