VOLUME 5 • ISSUE 3 • September 2025

‘It’s So Sad to See This All End’

121-year-old Waiʻanae Hongwanji holds its last Obon

Dana Sewake didn’t show it, but on the night of July 19, her emotions ran deep. A retired schoolteacher, wife, mother and grandmother who now lives in Hilo, she lingered over rows of faded photographs tracing her family’s history, awash in nostalgia and quiet sorrow while outside, music and taiko beats resounded across the Waiʻanae Hongwanji parking lot as dancers and revelers circled the yagura.

What was popularly called “The Last Obon” drew hundreds of revelers from Oʻahu and Honolulu district temples, the Ewa Fukushima Bon Dance Club, which regularly performs each year and locals who realized the finality of the event.

To open the evening, emcee Elliot Peters welcomed the crowd, Reverend Jeffrey Daien Soga chanted “Shi Shin Rai” and “Hongwan Jojumon” before the evening started with “Shinran Ondo.”

Without letup, the program proceeded through what was supposed to be a 25-song set and a rousing “Let’s Groove” finale. Members of Nidaime Tenshin Kai, the Okinawan folk music club performed five songs mid-way through the night.

In one corner of the property nearest Old Government Road, the temple building designed in 1959 by Carl Muroda, dominated the scene, its tall Japanese-Indian-Western designed roof covering a cool open respite for those seeking refuge from festivities.

Next to it, food booths handled non-stop sales until everything sold out: The “snow-capped” shave ice, andagi and hundreds of bento in several varieties, the operation overseen by Jill Tamura, president of Tamura Foods.

After all these years, she said, closing Wai‘anae Hongwanji represents a huge loss, not only financially for their family business, but also tearing the fabric of the community.

Mrs. Sewake agreed.

“It’s so sad to see this all end,” she said. “My ancestors built this church. My Uncle Carl did a good job. Five generations of Murodas and Hasegawas who worked so hard, kept it going after the sugar plantations closed. Since my great grandparents’ time, we’ve been bringing our children here to help.”

Her great grandfather, Taichi Muroda, was among the 150 Gannenmono, the first immigrants to arrive in Hawai‘i from Japan in 1868, attracted by the $4-a-month pay.

His wife, Tome Muroda, Mrs. Sewake’s great grandmother, was a midwife who delivered every baby born in Wai‘anae since there was no hospital or medical clinic.

“My grandfather knew ikebana so he did all the flower arrangements,” she said. “My grandmother, Shizume Muroda, is in Barbara Kawakami’s book, ʻImmigrant Clothing in Hawai’i where she’s wearing the latest fashion for the sugar plantation worker.”

She pointed out her grandmother’s sepia-toned photograph on a display.

At the time, Rev. Joshin Deme served as minister for both Waipahu and Wai‘anae. When he was asked to oversee Ewa Hongwanji, feeling overwhelmed, he wrote his grandmother in Japan, asking if her cousin, Nobunari Hasegawa, could come to Hawai‘i and help out for a while.

He arrived, stayed and ended up being one of the strongest leaders who kept the Wai‘anae temple going despite being a Jodo Shu follower. When he met his wife, a Jodo Shinshu member, he attended all Jodo Shinshu services.

“He wasn’t a minister, but he ended up teaching the Japanese school, setting up the altar, cleaning and handling maintenance,” Mrs. Sewake said.

“We’ve been coming here for over 50 years. Now we’ll have nowhere to go.”

The decades long interrelationships among Japanese Wai’anae families — from the Hanabusas and Tamuras, to the Hasegawas, Murodas and Yoshimuras — suffered an unexpected shock when Clifford Tamura, at age 86, passed away on June 5, 2022. Since then, every Obon has been dedicated to his memory.

“Our sangha was very close. Everybody got along so well,” Mrs. Sewake said. “When my father passed away, besides running his store and the whole Tamura business, Clifford would come over to mow my mother’s lawn without even being asked.”

Meanwhile, outside the Social Hall, the program had been proceeding non-stop with Ewa Fukushima finishing its seven dances, led by Robin Hirata, followed by Nidaime Tenshin Kai’s folksy Okinawan melodies.

As Ewa Fukushima returned for two songs, suddenly, at 9:20 p.m., emcee Elliot Peters announced a tsunami watch had been issued at 9:03 p.m.

A magnitude 7.4 earthquake off the east coast of the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russia at 8:49 p.m. may have triggered a tsunami.

Officials were still evaluating. Rather than risk the consequences, they decided to choose the cautious, safest decision: The remainder of the program was being cancelled, Peters said, please leave in a calm, orderly manner and drive home safely.

While metal chairs were folded, equipment unplugged, packed up and loaded in vans, cars began exiting the lot in silence.

There were no sirens and no time for a final closing message of gratitude and appreciation, no farewells, no last dance.

Ironically, within 30 minutes of the announcement, at 9:42 p.m., the tsunami watch was cancelled.

— Gail S. Tagashira