Dear Editor,    

There is a familiar, good-natured contention that people from Manu‘a are especially smart. Ask someone from Ofu, and they may tell you that Ofu produces the smartest of them all. Our good Doc, Iotamo Saleapaga, was a proud son of Ofu — and he certainly gave his people something to support their claim.

People from Manu‘a also have a reputation for confidence: willing to speak their minds, take on difficult issues, and step forward to lead. Doc brought that confidence to a lifetime of service.

In 1962, he transferred from Papatea School in Ta‘ū to Poyer Junior High School on Tutuila. He continued to the High School of American Samoa, then joined the second wave of American Samoa students trained at the Fiji School of Medicine. After serving at LBJ, he pursued further medical education at the University of Hawai‘i. His journey carried him far from Ofu, but his people remained at the center of his work.

Some of the details of Doc’s early years were shared with me by Tupuola Phil Langford, his classmate at both Poyer School and the High School of American Samoa, and a close friend who shared his love of fishing and golfing. I am grateful to Phil for helping me tell this part of Doc’s story.

He Became Everybody’s Doctor.

From those holding the highest positions to the humblest among us, people could turn to him for care. Like his Fiji-trained local contemporaries, he made himself available after hours, at home, wherever and whenever the need arose. Whether someone could pay did not determine his willingness to help. That kind of doctor is increasingly rare, and our community knows how much it meant to have him.

Away from medicine, fishing was his refuge — a chance to release stress and enjoy the ocean. His generosity came ashore with him. The catch was shared among his crew and others waiting for their return. I know, because I was sometimes one of those waiting on the shore.

Among his fishing companions was then Lt. Governor Galea’i Peni Poumele of Fitiuta, Manu’a, who, during a period of financial crisis, expressed a conviction Doc carried with him:

“Pe tasi le tala a le Malo, e alu lava le Malo.”

(Even if the government has only one dollar left, the government must keep going, serving the people.)

Doc took that spirit to heart. Whatever the circumstances, there were people who needed care, and he would be there.

In time, golf took over from fishing as his favorite pastime. As president of his golf club, he helped bring together golfers from American Samoa, Samoa, Hawai‘i, and the mainland United States.

You could usually spot Doc’s group without much difficulty. Where six players might have been the limit, his gathering could be twice that size. Somehow, there always seemed to be room for another player. Doc was the banker and, at the end of the game, the distributor of the spoils. Everyone got something. Then came the drinks, food, stories, and laughter. His gift for bringing people together followed him onto the course.

I also had the privilege of seeing his commitment from another vantage point. When LBJ Tropical Medical Center became a semi-autonomous authority in 1997, I served on its inaugural Board of Directors alongside Chairman Iu Joseph Pereira, Mulipola Herbert Scanlan, Dr. Filo Jennings, William Sword, and Lelei Peau. John Faimuina, Jr. served as the inaugural Chief Executive Officer, and Doc was our first Medical Director under that new structure. As a board member, I witnessed firsthand his dedication to his profession and to our people.

He championed the development of our own healthcare workforce, including sending young people to the Fiji School of Medicine, where training was more affordable. The Board also faced strong community expectations for doctors and other providers trained in the United States. We supported both paths, with greater emphasis on U.S. training.

Doc’s argument deserved serious consideration. He was living proof of what the Fiji pathway could produce, followed by further training and a lifetime of dedicated service at home. He also advocated for better compensation for local doctors, nurses, and other healthcare providers. He understood that caring for our people required investing in those who provided the care.

Today, as we confront concerns about reductions in Medicaid and LBJ support, I think of Doc. Medicaid is central to financing healthcare in our territory, and the decisions ahead matter deeply

to our people. Whatever our political leaders decide, I believe one thing would have remained constant: Doc would have continued showing up, offering his skills and caring for whoever needed him.

“Pe tasi le tala a le Malo, e alu lava le Malo.”

That spirit lived in his service, his generosity, and his willingness to answer the call.
Thank you for your service, Uso. Thank you for the care, the fish, the fellowship, and the example you leave with us.

Manuia lau malaga, Dr. Iotamo Saleapaga.

Keniseli Lafaele

(The late Dr. Iotamo Saleapaga’s burial service will take place on Monday, October 5, 2026 and is a private affair. However, a celebration of his life will take place at the Iliili Golf Course at 4pm today.)