I I never lived in Lahaina, but I always loved Lahaina. I have many childhood memories of Maui, of spending time with my Aunt Brenda and cousin Brandie, of eating juicy mangoes from my cousin Wendy’s tree, and of riding the sugar cane train with my grandparents.

My grandpa Ken was a Lahaina boy, and my mother and her siblings spent summers on Great Grandma Wong’s property on Fleming Road. When we visited, we would walk down Front Street and my mother would show us the Quiksilver store that long ago housed Wong’s Ki Sing Lung store, which sold general merchandise and the occasional homemade fudge.

This was the Lahaina I knew before August 2023. The fires started just before my senior year of college in Boston, so I never saw the charred buildings and melted cars. I didn’t get dressed and sift through the ashes of my cousins’ homes. I wasn’t there to understand the true extent of the destruction.

On July 28, a little over a week ago, I finally returned to Lahaina. Grandpa Ken had recently been on a bus tour of Lahaina with Wendy and my Aunt Deanna. “All the landmarks are gone,” he said. “The only thing I recognize is the seawall.”

As I drove along the Lahaina Bypass, my eyes caught the memorial adorned with pictures of the wildfire victims. The words “Lahaina Strong” are painted on walls and printed on people’s shirts throughout town and the Lahaina Gateway area. Such messages won’t rebuild the town, but they do convey a sense of community and support – and remind residents that they can lean on one another.