Our Honolulu
A long way to go for relief
By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Staff Writer
A visit to the historic McCandless Building downtown at King and Bethel streets near the waterfront introduced me to the longest way to a toilet in Our Honolulu.
Then again, maybe not. I'm not acquainted with all of the men's rooms in town.
That's why I'm bringing the subject up for discussion. It's an area in which there has been little research. Maybe we can add a new chapter to our folklore.
You see, I had a cup of coffee during the interview. By the time it was over, I had to go to the bathroom. I asked politely where it was. My host got up and said, "I'd better show you."
That was the understatement of the year. We set out across the elegant, restored vestibule and went down a side hall to an unmarked door, like the entrance to a speakeasy during prohibition.
On the other side, I found myself peering down into the secret catacombs underneath the city. We descended stairways, wound through a maze of tunnels and tramped through an empty chamber.
I felt like I should drop breadcrumbs along the way so I could find my way back.
After doing my business, I pulled out my notebook to give you an accurate report of my return journey to civilization. I felt like the Count of Monte Cristo escaping from his dungeon.
Outside the bathroom, a hallway passed four locked doors. No escape. But a dim passageway opened up ahead.
This led down three steps into an empty room. Had I taken a wrong turn? Would I ever see daylight again? An open door on the other side emerged into another choice between a door and seven steps to nowhere.
On the landing above, I found a door labeled "Women," the first solid evidence that I was on the right trail.
Twelve more steps led upward, the right direction, to a locked door marked "101." I tried another door and, presto, there I was back in the vestibule.
That got me to thinking what it must have been like trying to find the john in other historic buildings in Our Honolulu. One of the oldest is Ali'iolani Hale, across from 'Iolani Palace, built in 1874.
Susan Shaner at the Judiciary History Center pulled out the plans. She couldn't find any toilets marked on the plans until 1900. The Legislature met in Ali'iolani Hale. Do you suppose the legislators had to go to an outhouse in back?
The 1900 plans show a women's toilet on the ground floor and what was apparently a men's on the second floor. It wasn't until 1910 that the plans show a men's and a women's upstairs and downstairs.
'Iolani Palace, completed in 1881, was far ahead of its time. King Kalakaua had bathrooms installed in each of three bedroom suites; hot and cold running water, copper-lined bathtubs. Even a bidet.
If you have information on hard-to-find toilets, give me a call. This is the kind of information that should be in the State Data Book. There's no surer sign of progress than a handy toilet.
