Hidden (and Spooky) Histories of 'Ewa and Waipahu

There are places across ʻEwa and Waipahu that people pass every day without realizing the deep history beneath their feet. Some of these places carry stories of history, memory, and mana.

Hawaiʻi’s “Ghost Guy,” Lopaka Kapanui, a Native Hawaiian storyteller, author, actor, kumu hula, and cultural practitioner who leads Mysteries of Hawaiʻi, spoke with Councilmember Augie Tulba about some of these places.

Long before roads and rail lines, ʻEwa was the setting of powerful conflicts. One of the most well known involves Māʻilikūkahi, the first great king of Oʻahu. Known for establishing the ahupuaʻa system, Māʻilikūkahi brought balance and structure to the island. But that peace was once threatened.

A chief from Hawaiʻi Island named Hilo came to Oʻahu intent on conquering ʻEwa and claiming its resources. His ambitions led to a fierce battle that ended in a decisive and brutal defeat of the invading forces.

The final clash is tied to Kīpapa Gulch. The name itself means “placed prone,” a reference to the fallen warriors who covered the battlefield. It is said the invading army was trapped and overwhelmed there, leaving the land forever marked by that moment.

After the battle, Māʻilikūkahi made a powerful statement. The defeated chief Hilo was killed, and his head was placed on a tall pike at Poʻohilo in Honouliuli, facing toward ʻEwa, the land he tried to claim but would never possess. That area remained kapu for generations.

Today, that location aligns with a modern stretch of Farrington Highway near the rail line and the Kahimohala area. Many now associate this corridor with frequent accidents and unexplained incidents. For some, it is coincidence. For others, it is a reminder that certain places carry deep spiritual weight.

Nearby, Kīpapa Gulch continues to hold a reputation that extends beyond history. Many believe it is a path for the Night Marchers, the Huakaʻi Pō, the spirits of ancient warriors said to still traverse the land. Stories persist of phantom voices, sudden chills, and apparitions along the road and bridge.

And the stories are not limited to gulches and highways.

At Waipahu Elementary School, a small cemetery sits next to the campus. For years, Lopaka said, teachers and students have described an unusual experience. During class, especially in rooms facing the graveyard, the sound of pebbles striking the school bell suddenly echoes across campus.

At first, teachers assume someone is outside throwing rocks. But when they step out to look, no one is there.

Still, the pebbles continue, as if coming from within the graveyard itself.

These accounts have been shared across generations, quietly passed from class to class, adding another layer to Waipahu’s living history.

Whether one believes these stories or not, they reflect a deeper truth about Hawaiʻi. These lands are not just physical spaces. They are layered with history, culture, and memory.

So the next time you drive through ʻEwa or Waipahu, or pass a place that seems ordinary, take a moment. Beneath the pavement and progress lies a past that still speaks. And for some, it has never truly gone quiet.