Gov. John A. Burns was stricken with cancer in 1973 and died in office in 1975.

Capitol old-timers always used to talk about Burns’ ghost haunting the state Capitol. The best stories mentioned smelling cigar smoke and recollections of the cigars that Hawaii’s first Democratic governor smoked as he paced outside the building.

You hardly hear those stories anymore and I think I know why: Jack isn’t stopping by because he is horrified with what has happened to the state Capitol, the house he built.

Hawaii in 1959 was a new state and needed a proper state building. The one designed by John Carl Warneke was an open-themed, heavily symbolic declaration that Hawaii was joining the union as a bold, confident and progressive new member.

“There is no roof or dome to separate its vast inner court from the heavens and from the same eternal stars which guided the first voyagers to the primeval beauty of these shores,” said Burns in his speech opening the new building in 1969.

The U.S. Department of Interior’s nomination of the building to the National Register of Historic Places calls Hawaii’s Capitol “the single most dominant work of public architecture in the state.”

Forty-seven years later, the Capitol is a poster child for piecemeal repair and upkeep. The ceilings on the chamber level continually ooze water. For the first six months of his term, Gov. David Ige stepped around two garbage cans set up in the public hallway to catch the drippings.

Upstairs, the smelly, algae-choked reflecting ponds reflect the image more of a sewage treatment plant than a symbolic link to our blue Pacific home. There has been much talk about removing the ponds, placing them with flower beds or sculptures, but because the building is on the national historic register, you can’t just call in “Yard Crashers” to do a renovation.

The newest indignity is on the top fifth floor, where the famous curved, open roof is leaking. The latest coating was done in 1982. Long gone are the glorious skylights that poured sunlight onto the lanai because they also leaked. Now the whole ceiling, according to a state report, is suffering “weathering, splits and tears and separations at the roof seams … the ceramic tile mortar bed and welded wire fabric is deteriorating.”

Also, that beautiful blue mosaic tile that mirrors our clear skies is falling out and while emergency repairs replaced the missing pieces with blue tile, it is neither the same original blue, nor are the replaced tiles consistently blue-hued. They are many blue-colored tiles, more mismatch than mosaic.

The state’s solution is no more blue tile.

“The blue tiles will be removed and replaced with a blue textured plaster finish … these improvements will help to prevent future potential problems,” the report said, adding that the upwardly curving ceiling is “very difficult to access.”

Alan Downer, State Historic Preservation Division administrator, said there is an obvious safety issue and “the cost to replace the tile would be prohibitively expensive.”

“We have been discussing material, treatments and colors to eliminate or minimize any effects to the character of the Capitol,” Downer said.

Basically, the state is taking down the sky and putting up mud.

As one historic preservation professional noted: “So the state is currently working to obliterate both the sky and the ocean references at the center of government.”

Richard Borreca writes on politics on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Reach him at rborreca@staradvertiser.com.