I can’t explain why Lahaina settled into a space in my heart.
The Eagles song “The Last Resort” probably planted a seed in my young teen brain, an idea of a stolen place that could be somehow recovered. Eventually I learned the true history of Lahaina’s place in Hawaiian (and American) history, and the fantasy slid aside to reveal the complexities of the town, and of the people who molded it over centuries.
I loved it more.
Lahaina was the one place I needed to see in Hawaii, and last fall I finally did. We didn’t spend much time there, just a sunny afternoon. We walked around under the Banyan tree watching little kids & chickens run around, we popped into a few galleries. We people-watched at Cool Cat Café.
We drove by that neon sign that said Jesus is coming.
And now Lahaina Town as it was is burned. Gone.
I have no claim, no true connection except as compatriots, but the Lahaina piece of my heart is shattered. The people of Lahaina and the rest of Maui have lost the irreplaceable, but they will rise as they always have.
Mahalo a hui hou Lahaina 💗. Until we meet again.