Fair judgment

It’s long been said that unless people believe our court system is fair, it won’t work.

In that respect, former federal judge Sam King struck a mighty blow toward preserving respect for the federal judiciary, both in Hawaii and across the mainland, where he often served as a visiting judge. From criminals and gangsters to war protesters and environmentalists, there was agreement that King — no matter how he ruled — had been fair.

This matters today more than ever as increasing levels of public dispute find their way into the federal courts. If people do not believe they are going to get a fair shake in the federal system, they won’t go there. And King, as much as anyone, worked hard to ensure that every person who appeared before him would be treated with fairness, respect and no small dose of anxiety-soothing humor.

It is difficult to think of a major public issue that did not roll through King’s courtroom at some point during his active time on the bench. From environmental arguments over the H-3 freeway and the fight to save the tiny palila bird to the history-making Land Reform Act, King was called upon to pass judgment.

He had Hawaian activists and sovereignty advocates before him and found a way to allow the advocates to attend in traditional native dress — a sight one is unlikely to see in any other courtroom. During the Vietnam war, he frequently had cases involving anti-war protesters who had moved onto federal property. While he was firm about enforcing the law, he also made it clear that he understood — and perhaps even sympathized with — the emotions and feelings that led to the protest.

King would often say that he followed the example of the late Chief Justice Earl Warren, who said he would first look for what was a fair resolution to a dispute and then seek out law that would support that position. In that, he was in accord with the late Hawaii Chief Justice William Richardson, who often made the same argument. On political terms, the two were not always in agreement; after all, King ran for governor against Richardson’s friend and mentor Jack Burns. But in judicial terms, King usually agreed with his fellow jurist on matters important to Hawaiians and the Hawaii community in general.

As he gained time on the bench, King became increasingly appalled by rigid sentencing rules as well as the growing trend of venue shopping, in which lawyers who lost or felt they might lose in state courts would take another shot in the federal system.

It’s a testament to King’s equanimity that he was able to sustain a friendship with those he disagreed with. One example was the late federal judge Martin Pence, a Democrat and generally a liberal. They occasionally disagreed on everything from the limits that should be placed on public activism to the virtues (or lack thereof) of hunting animals.

Today’s federal bench in Hawaii works long hours, maintains integrity and offers citizens the hope that they will truly get a fair "day in court." One likes to think that our current judges think of Sam King from time to time.

———

Jerry Burris, former political reporter and editorial page editor of The Honolulu Advertiser, and Star-Advertiser courts reporter Ken Kobayashi co-wrote the new book, "Judge Sam King: A Memoir" with federal Judge Samuel P. King.

———

BOOK EXCERPT

‘They look like the front line of the Los Angeles Rams’
By Samuel P. King

My place of work at the start of my career as a federal judge was in the old Federal Courthouse, next to the main Post Office in downtown Honolulu. From the front steps of that building you could look across King Street — not named after my family; there’s a Queen Street, too, you know — to ‘Iolani Palace, where my father had served as a governor.

I still remember the day I climbed up to my place at the bench in that building and saw these five local boys standing before me. They look like the front line of the Los Angeles Rams, I thought to myself. They might have looked like professional football players at first glance, but there was something else: a coldness in their eyes that could give you chills. There was one particular guy who knew you were going to be afraid of even before you saw him. He would just walk around and you would say: "Oh, boy, I’d better stay out of his way."

The five were Wilfred "Nappy" Pulawa, Alema Leota, Henry Huihui, Alvin Kaohu and Robert "Bobby" Wilson. Pulawa was the reputed underworld leader in Hawai’i. I didn’t know much about these guys at the time but learned during their trial — for conspiracy to avoid federal taxes — that they were at the heart of a criminal syndicate, or "mob," as some of the media called it. Nappy Pulawa was the leader, and not just of this crew.

I never understood why people would say there is no organized crime in Honolulu. Of course there was! Generally, organized crime centered on gambling. There was a little bit of this, "You pay us so much a month or we come in and destroy you" — the protection racket. There was some prostitution and drugs, but gambling was the big one. The thing about organized crime is that it would not be possible without the people who break the law because they want to gamble and hire prostitutes. They think they can out-maneuver the police.

At the time there were two different groups running gambling, but then the Samoans came in and kind of took it over. The expert on the subject was Larry Mehau, a former police officer and Big Island rancher who ran a security company. He was also occasionally described as the "Godfather" of Organized Crime in Hawai’i, a charge he always denied. He was influential — big in Democratic politics, working with people like Jack Burns and George Ariyoshi. I think he also helped my Republican friend Pat Saiki when she ran for governor.

Mehau knew all the boys who were in and out of trouble. In fact, he used to hire them when they got out of prison. Some were pretty cold-blooded, but Mehau said he felt they deserved a second chance.

In 1977, the word "Godfather" appeared in a Maui newspaper, the Valley Isle, in an article that implicated Mehau in the deaths of several people. The word was picked up and published elsewhere, so Mehau sued for defamation, not just the Valley Isle but most of the local TV stations, newspapers and radio news stations. The case was first assigned to Judge James Burns, Governor John Burns’ son, but Judge Burns stepped aside because he was a personal friend of Mehau’s. Burns was not alone; nine of the 13 circuit court judges also declined to hear the case. The remaining four were not asked because they were about to retire or were otherwise unavailable. The case was settled out of court.

It made for quite a circus in the news, but I was watching from the sidelines because it was a state matter and I was at the time a federal judge.

People used to ask me: "Was Mehau the Godfather?" I really can’t say. I met with Mehau only once, long after these trials occurred, and I never had met him in court. My position has always been that no one is a crook unless so proven.

The existence of organized crime in Hawai’i is another matter, and it wasn’t just the trials that lead me to conclude that there was. I had access to police transcripts, wiretaps, that kind of thing. In those days, if witnesses started to cooperate with law enforcement, they sometimes disappeared.

———

This is an excerpt from the new book, "Judge Sam King: A Memoir," released by Watermark Publishing.