Massing at the Edmund Pettus Bridge on March 25, 1965, Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights leaders knew the precariousness of their position. In an earlier march across the bridge, that fateful March, state troopers savagely beat the peaceful marchers unconscious on a day that would become known as Bloody Sunday. Several leaders had even been murdered in broad daylight. Now blocked by fire hose cannons and mounted police cavalry, these freedom fighters stood together, buoyed by three shared commonalities: a fierce faith in their fight for equality; a courageous determination to overcome the injustices of their time; and bright white leis hanging from their necks.
Yes, leis — like the ones from Polynesia. As astounding as it seems, Martin Luther King and Civil Rights constituency began their now legendary walk 50 years ago today in Selma, Alabama wearing double carnation leis, sent straight from the Hawaiian islands.
How did these white-flowered symbols of love, peace, and goodwill end up around the necks of dozens of black civil rights leaders? The story is one filled with the kind of power that only great causes can induce.
The journey of those flowers from the deep South Pacific to the deep south of Selma started a year earlier, when King delivered a lecture at the University of Hawaii. Reverend Abraham Akaka, then the chairman of the Hawaii Advisory Committee of the U.S. Civil Rights Commission was at the event and met King. The two subsequently developed a strong friendship.
Best known by surfers for his blessings given before the great North Shore wave-riding events, Reverend Akaka was a man of deep commitment and spiritual ardor. Moved by King’s fervent and fiery oratory at UH, Akaka decided that, though he couldn’t be there in Selma, he could send them the most powerful gesture any Hawaiian could offer: a garland of flowers to wear as a symbolic affirmation of support, and a iconic gift of peace and protection.
Who would believe that the greatest civil rights event of the 1960s would have an intimate connection to Hawaiian culture and the Aloha spirit? Only those who know the power that a great wave of passion can inspire. Akaka knew that King represented all citizens who experienced discrimination – Hawaiians, Asians, and blacks alike. That movement that picked up steam in March of 1965 influenced positive change for all Americans.
King would go on to describe the change: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”
Surfers might see it as natural as a wave bending around a point, moving with eternal energy towards its inevitable destination.
For decades, surfers listened to Reverend Akaka bless surfing events and were awed by the spirituality that emanated in waves of energy from his being. Now we might begin to understand why.
Jim Kempton was lucky enough to has heard Reverend Akaka on many occasions. The most memorable was one blessing of the Duke Kahanamoku contest which was given during a rainstorm.