On the morning of June 26, 1997, a profound hush fell across the Hawaiian islands. News spread from Oʻahu to Niʻihau: “Bruddah Iz” had passed away.
The Honolulu Star-Register captured his radiant, generous face, announcing his death from respiratory complications and other illnesses tied to his immense size. Standing just under six-foot-two and weighing over 900 pounds at the end of his life, Israel Kamakawiwoʻole had always carried the awareness of mortality. “I’m not afraid to die,” he once said. “We Hawaiians live in both worlds. When my time comes, don’t mourn for me.”
Yet the islands mourned deeply. Hawai‘i had lost its voice.
In his youth, few would have imagined that the rowdy, often-troubled teenager from the Makaha region would become a cultural icon. Iz struggled with alcohol and drugs, and even faced expulsion from school. But his extraordinary musical talent and natural charisma could not be contained.
He began his career as a founding member of the Makaha Sons of Niʻihau, alongside his older brother Skippy, who tragically passed away at 28 due to complications from obesity. The group became a cornerstone of the Hawaiian Renaissance, bringing authentic island music back to native audiences with pride and power.
Iz’s defining moment came one late night in 1988. A phone call jolted Milan Bertosa’s recording studio awake at 2:30 a.m.—someone insisted that Israel wanted to record immediately. Exhausted but intrigued, Bertosa agreed.
Minutes later, the largest man he had ever seen appeared, accompanied by security to procure a steel chair. Cradling a tiny ukulele, Iz began to sing. His breath was heavy, but his voice floated clear and pure, melodic and haunting.
In a single, perfect take, he recorded what would become a timeless medley: Judy Garland’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” intertwined with Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” The performance was imperfect—he mixed up a few chords and lyrics—but its honesty and spirit were undeniable. It captured the essence of aloha, blending two beloved songs into a heartfelt prayer.
The recording sat untouched for five years. Then, in 1993, as Iz struggled financially and relied on welfare to support his family, producers Jon de Mello and Bertosa included the demo on his second solo album, Facing Future. While Hawaiian audiences first embraced the album for its political messages, the medley quietly began to gain traction.
Global fame arrived posthumously. In 1999, a snippet appeared in an eToys.com commercial, and suddenly, the world discovered the gentle giant from Hawaii. His medley was featured in films like Meet Joe Black, 50 First Dates, and ER, captivating listeners who felt an intimate, personal connection to his voice. Facing Future became the first Hawaiian album to sell over a million copies, a testament to Iz’s enduring magic.
Despite his fame, his health remained fragile. Iz passed away at 38, leaving Hawaii in mourning. Radio DJs wept on air, and tens of thousands lined up to pay respects. Governor Benjamin Cayetano honored him with a state lying-in at the Capitol, a tribute reserved for the most cherished figures in Hawaiian life.
Following a nighttime memorial concert, Iz’s ashes were taken by canoe to Mākua Beach. Hundreds followed by land and sea. Friends, family, and fans cheered, honked horns, and waved flags as his ashes were released into the Pacific. His wife Marlene and loved ones dove into the waves for a final swim alongside him.
Today, every June 26, locals gather off Mākua Beach to honor Bruddah Iz—throwing flowers, swimming in the waters, and celebrating the enduring aloha spirit he left behind. His voice, his heart, and his love remain inseparable from the land and sea he called home.