The sand beach that stretches nearly a mile beyond the Kalaupapa wharf was always laid smooth by the tide. Hansen’s disease plays havoc with feet, ulcerating them, crippling them. Such feet walk poorly. And in sand they cannot walk at all. Most patients in Henry’s time left no footprints in that golden sand.

In 1936 ten-year-old Henry was taken from his family on the Island of Hawai‘i and sent to Kalihi Hospital on O‘ahu. He was later transferred to Kalaupapa on the rugged north coast of Moloka‘i, where he has spent most of the past 65 years in this remote village with a tragic history as a Hansen’s disease colony. During its century as a virtual prison, more than 8,000 people were exiled to Kalaupapa, until the introduction of sulfone drugs in the 1940s. Today fewer than 20 patients remain.

No Footprints in the Sand: A Memoir of Kalaupapa by Henry Nalaielua with Sally-Jo Bowman is one of only a few memoirs ever shared with the public by a Kalaupapa patient. Its intimacy and candor make it, in the words of Pulitzer Prize-winning poet W.S. Merwin, “a rare and precious human document.”

This July day was insufferably hot in Honolulu. Henry Nalaielua sat perspiring at the grounds of ‘Iolani Palace, even though his chair was in the shade. He and some 500 others had listened all morning to prayers and hymns and speeches.

And then, near the end of the long ceremonies and ecumenical service, it was Nalaielua’s turn. The notes for his speech were under his ginger lei, in the pocket of his aloha shirt—his best blue one. He shuffled the few steps to the lei-draped lectern on hobbly feet that reminded him of his mission of honor. He had come to the palace from his home at Kalaupapa on Moloka‘i, where he was sent as a Hansen’s disease (leprosy) patient before World War II, and where he has lived most of his 70 years.