To spot the Hilo Masonic Lodge Hall-Bishop Trust Building, look for a large, pale-colored building on the busy corner of Keawe and Waianuenue Streets-just look for the strong rectangular shape with tall, arched windows and a green awning wrapping around the corner.
Now, imagine you’re standing right here in front of an architectural heavyweight with a real “can’t knock me down” vibe-this monument has been through its share of drama! Close your eyes for a moment and picture downtown Hilo, over a century ago: horses and carriages clopping by, shopkeepers sweeping their stoops, and-where you’re standing now-a team of Freemasons staring hopefully at a pile of dirt, waiting to turn an idea into Hilo’s very first Masonic hall.
Let’s rewind to wild 1896, when Hawaii was still ruled by sugar and steam. William W. Goodale, a bold fellow with an eye for the future, hosted the first talks of a Masonic lodge right in his own house. A year later, Kilauea Lodge #330 (named after the fiery volcano nearby) became Hawaii Island’s first. Their meetings began in the homey Lyman building, but you know how leases are-never quite safe when your landlord might want to build a school!
Fast forward: John Troup Moir, plantation boss by day, Mason master by night, and also the county’s very first bigwig, gathered a dream team to buy land uphill, betting that Hilo would someday sprawl in that direction. They almost swapped their plot for federal land, only to be shouted down by public protests-sometimes, city politics is just one big game of musical chairs.
In a twist of fate, they finally landed a more central lot in 1906, thanks to some smooth talking with Governor Carter-and yes, they had to pay the price difference. Picture it: the plans were set, the sketches done by fellow Mason William McKay, and Henry F. Starbuck, a seasoned lodge architect was on call from Oakland. Just as the construction clock was about to tick, disaster struck. A rumble and a roar-the 1906 San Francisco earthquake-sent the price of building materials sky high. The Masons watched as their timeline and budget did a vanishing act.
Still, you can’t keep a good lodge down. By May 1908, they broke ground with Starbuck leading, only for him and his team to be swapped out a few months later. Hey, nobody said building a temple would be a cakewalk! The cornerstone was triumphantly set in 1909. When the hall finally opened in 1910, it wasn’t just up to code-it was double the price and twice as grand as anyone expected, with Moir proudly declaring it fireproof, earthquake-proof, the whole works! Picture townsfolk gawking at the brand-new Renaissance Revival masterpiece-three stories tall, reinforced with concrete, with a sweeping stairway of granite and oak balusters, glowing with brass fittings and a hint of organ music.
The ground floor buzzed with commerce, and upstairs, the Masons filled the high-ceilinged ceremonial rooms with secrets, laughter, and plenty of mystery. Years later, their traditions were cut short-not by fire or quake, but by a liquor license! Their rules wouldn’t let them share space with a bar, so the Masons departed in the 1980s.
Through the decades, this building has worn many hats: bank, restaurant, gallery, bar. It even survived bankruptcy, closed kitchens, and changes in ownership. In the ’90s, it got a facelift-fresh restrooms, a new elevator, all the bells and whistles (well, original fixtures, anyway).
The Kaikodo restaurant came and went, followed by another short-lived grill, as tenants changed, but this building remains a bold survivor. Standing on this corner for more than a century, it’s seen Hilo’s story unfold-the hustle, hard times, wild dreams, and more than a little aloha.
So as you look up at those tall, arched windows, remember: under this roof, legends built their future-one cautious, earthquake-proof brick at a time.
