New Police Chief Susan Ballard spoke to my Honolulu Rotary club recently. She said she owed her position to a trail- blazing woman at the Honolulu Police Department named Lucile Abreu. I had never heard of her and decided to research her further.

Abreu joined HPD in 1953. “There were 36 in my police cadet class, 35 men and me,” Abreu said in a Honolulu Advertiser interview. “I was class valedictorian, so obviously I did well.” Over time, all of them were promoted to sergeant except Abreu.

The only place a female officer could work at HPD was with kids in the Juvenile Crime Division. There was only one sergeant, and none of the other four women at the time could be promoted until she left, Ballard says.

“Back then you had to have patrol time to be promoted, and women were not allowed to patrol. It was a Catch-22, and there was no way they were ever going to be promoted.”

Abreu took the sergeant’s test 67 times over 20 years. She was denied promotion 67 times, even though she often placed first on the test, Ballard says. Men who placed lower were promoted.

“Abreu was told she didn’t have patrol time and the only position she was qualified for was filled. She also didn’t meet the minimum 5-foot-8-inch height and 145-pound weight requirement.”

Abreu filed a workplace discrimination complaint with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC). In response, HPD lowered the height requirement to 5-foot-7. Abreu, a mother of five, stood just 5-foot-2.

Abreu decided to file a lawsuit, and in 1975 the courts found she had been passed over only because she was a woman. The men at HPD were not happy. Only three came to congratulate her, Abreu recalled.

“Not only did she win,” Ballard continued, “but her lawsuit threw open the doors for all female officers. Now more women could be HPD officers.” HPD had to change its badge, which had read “patrolman,” to “officer.”

Abreu was promoted to detective and reassigned to be the first female HPD officer to investigate rapes. She retired in 1978 after 26 years of service.

“Here we are in 2018 and I’m the first female police chief, but I owe it all to Lucile Abreu,” Ballard believes.

Abreu had four sons and two became police officers. Two grandsons joined HPD as well.

The ‘Surfing Cop’

Another police officer you may not have heard of is Sgt. Edwin “Buddy” Adolphson, known to many as the “Surfing Cop.” He joined the force in 1939 soon after he graduated from ‘Iolani School.

Adolphson spent most of this time on the North Shore as a one-man rescue patrol.

Over four decades Adolphson was estimated to have saved over 100 lives, nephew Fred Hemmings said. Among them were hikers, fishermen, swimmers, surfers, hang gliders, boaters and canoers.

Adolphson, who died in 1990 at the age of 73, patrolled the North Shore from about 1951 until he retired in 1966, but continued in a volunteer capacity through the 1980s.

He was on call 24 hours a day, his daughter Diana Capili said.

His first rescue was a Navy chief caught in a rip current at Waimea Bay in 1952.

HPD gave him a station wagon so he could carry surfboards in 1958. He later upgraded to a jeep that he augmented with over $25,000 of his own money. “I don’t drink or smoke so I put my money into lifesaving equipment,” Adolphson said in a Honolulu Advertiser interview.

In addition to his regular police gear, he carried a medical kit, resuscitator, rope and equipment for mountain rescues.

He installed radio gear to monitor police, fire, Coast Guard and citizen’s band networks. He carried a motorized surfboard, stretcher, floodlights, chain saw, megaphone, winch, rope and coffee maker.

“On weekends I start out at 8 a.m. and patrol the North Shore until dark,” Adolphson said. “I’m always on the move, ready to put out brush fires, help surfers in trouble or rescue stranded hikers.”

“I winched out a glider that crashed in the mountains and an Army jeep that rolled down a gulch, all with my little jeep.”

Adolphson often put his own life at risk. “I have been so close to death so many times,” he said, “but when I raised my hand to take the policeman’s oath back in 1939, I meant what I said. No one ever told me where to draw the line.”

“I’m the kind of person … I don’t run away from trouble. I look for trouble.”

On one occasion Adolphson paddled out to rescue a surfer at Waimea Bay. A helicopter took the injured man away first. Adolphson found himself alone, surrounded by sharks, who fortunately left him alone until the helicopter returned.

“The victims of nine out of 10 drownings in surfing areas are expert swimmers,” Adolphson once said. They are more likely to be overconfident and go beyond their capabilities. It’s a good lesson for us all.

In 1962, 300 persons gathered for a testimonial dinner in Adolphson’s honor at Kemoo Farm in Wahiawa. Twenty-two civic and military organizations showered him with gifts and awards in an emotion-packed evening.

Police Chief Dan Liu presented him with a Merit Award, and the crowd rose for a standing ovation.

The U.S. Army Pacific command gave Adolphson the highest honor it could award a civilian — the Military Honor of Loyal Companions — for the numerous military men, women and dependents he had rescued.

The National Police Hall of Fame gave the 46-year-old father of three its Medal of Merit for Valor in 1963, for his bravery and courage, noting he had saved more than 100 lives in the past seven years.

Adolphson passed on his knowledge to a young Eddie Aikau. He mentored the fledgling lifeguard, Adolphson said. “I taught that kid everything he knew about reading the ocean.”

Colin McCorriston said his teenage son Bill and friend Anthony Chang were saved by Adolphson and fireman George Farr on Dec. 31, 1960. The two rode surfboards through rough seas at least three-quarters of a mile at Ehukai beach on the North Shore and stayed with the surfers until a helicopter arrived.

“I feel very certain that my son would not have survived had it not been for the prompt action on the part of those two men, in an action far above the usual call of duty,” McCorriston said.

Adolphson, who was born on Nov. 1, 1916, would have been 102 next week.

He turned down promotions to lieutenant, fearing that would tie him to a desk, away from what really loved: being outdoors.

When the HPD Hall of Fame opened in 2007, Adolphson was one of the original inductees.

Following in her dad’s footsteps, one daughter, Laura Adolphson, became a policewoman in California.

Capili told me that her father was kicked out of Punahou in the 1930s because he cut school to go surfing too much. The family then sent him to ‘Iolani.

“Dad was shy, if you can believe it,” Capili said. “He didn’t like publicity. He loved getting out in the water and helping people.”

If Buddy were alive today to read this article, he’d probably be the first to insist he was no hero. He mostly “helped” others, particularly firemen, do their job, he would say.