Because any mass shooting is incomprehensible, reprehensible and unbearably tragic, there is a
human reflex to cast blame and to seek answers. So it is after the Aug. 31 chaos in Waianae, which left three slain, two injured and shooter Hiram J. Silva Sr. dead, in what police called a “neighbor-on-neighbor” dispute. But as the criminal investigation proceeds, it’s necessary to also dissect the neighborhood strife and civil violations over his “Silva dome,” an illegal events venue at the end of Waianae Valley Road that has vexed neighbors for years. Focus on the situation here might provide remedies to prevent similar neighborhood disputes from escalating out of control.
But first, a major caveat: No amount of conflict between neighbors can ever justify violence. There is no condoning the actions of Silva, who drove a front-loader carrying fuel barrels into the house of his neighbors’ property during a party, crunching cars, then firing his unregistered firearm to kill three women, before neighbor Rishard
Keamo-Carnate shot and killed him, with a registered gun in self-defense. Earlier that night, members of the Keamo household had complained about cars speeding on the road to and from a large party at the dome — a longstanding safety and nuisance issue.
The Silva dome is a large Quonset hut illegally erected and operated for years as an events venue. The city Department of Planning and Permitting (DPP) says, quite disingenuously, that it’s aware of only one complaint about the dome since 2021, with only one official complaint on file.
But the venue has been an open secret for years, where parties for graduations, birthdays and the like are regularly held; in March 2021, a rap event during the COVID-19 shutdown sparked complaints, when some 500 people gathered despite strict laws capping social gatherings to 10 attendees. Police were called to the site after a traffic collision and fight, as well as alleged threats by Silva to neighbors, but he was not arrested. That episode spurred a frustrated email thread from the Keamo family to district legislators, in hopes of making the area safer for families. City officials were roped in — but little was done, and the problems festered.
Over time, the property drew DPP fines exceeding $587,200, related to illegal site grading. How such an exorbitant amount of fines was allowed to mount, without action or resolution, reveals a disturbing governmental lapse — an unacceptable way of handling violations that needs immediate correction.
And there have been at least 20 complaints dating back to 2001 about Silva’s property, according to a former Waianae Neighborhood Board chair.
To be sure, DPP has much on its plate, ranging from “monster house” scofflaws to persistent short-term rental violators; further, its normal MO is to cite and fine to encourage corrective action by property owners, rather than firm enforcement to compel compliance. That needs to change, especially when it comes to chronic, repeat or willful violators — those who ignore citations because, for the most part, they can without timely or serious repercussions. For DPP, HPD and the city to look the other way only emboldens violators.
Recent step-ups in enforcement by DPP offer some models for needed change. When it comes to monster homes, for instance, city law can compel teardown of nonconforming structures, though the process can be slow. As it pertains to illegal gaming rooms, a new city law enables DPP to work with HPD and the city prosecutor to go after landlords operating illicit activities. And recently, the city razed an abandoned derelict house on Pensacola, after years of mounting pressure from neighbors to deal with health-and-safety problems.
The City Council must work with the Blangiardi administration and DPP, as well as HPD, to see what laws can be toughened, so that quicker action can be taken on egregious nonconforming structures, such as the Silva dome, that cause safety issues and disruptions to neighborhoods.
There’s no predicting unhinged human behavior. But there’s much that can be done to defuse neighborhood conflicts — instead of continuing broken processes that enable frictions to intensify till things burst out of control.