[Congressional Record Volume 169, Number 142 (Tuesday, September 5, 2023)]
[Senate]
[Pages S3880-S3881]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
Maui Wildfires
Mr. SCHATZ. Mr. President, last month, on August 8, people on Maui
experienced one of the worst days of their lives. What started as a
bright, sunny, windy summer day turned into a long, hellish nightmare
as wildfires burned down the town of Lahaina.
There was little sign of the tragedy to come. People showed up to
work as usual. Children enjoyed their summer vacation. Tourists
strolled down Front Street. Snorkeling charters set out for the day.
Surfers hit the waves. And all of that changed in an instant.
By now, people around the world have seen the photos and the video
from that horrific day.
But the devastation up close, on the ground, is even more chilling.
It is unlike anything I have ever seen. Whole neighborhoods are
levelled. Piles of ash and debris sit where homes once stood. Hollowed-
out cars, burnt to a crisp, cover the streets.
To date, 115 people have been declared dead, and many more are still
missing. For a tight-knit community like Lahaina where everyone knows
each other, these losses are crushing. They were mothers and fathers,
aunties and uncles, friends and neighbors, kids as young as 7, and
seniors who couldn't escape in time. We mourn every one of them and the
lives they lived and would have gone on to live.
Even for those who were lucky enough to survive, their lives will
never be the same again. They are grieving the loss of their family and
their friends and confronting the loss of their homes and their
livelihoods. They are wondering where their kids will go to school and
how they will get healthcare. Those who still have jobs are trying to
figure out how to get to them without their cars.
The people of Maui have had their lives turned upside down, and it
will be years before their lives return to some semblance of normalcy
again.
To understand the scale of this tragedy and how it happened, we need
to go back to the beginning because what happened in Lahaina on that
day was not normal. Hawaii is no stranger to natural disasters. We have
seen floods, and we have seen hurricanes, tsunamis, and volcanic
eruptions, even small-scale wildfires, but nothing like this.
The conditions for a disaster had been slowly building. Over the past
several decades, Lahaina's old sugar plantation land had been replaced
by dry, invasive grass that was prone to fires. As the area got hotter
and saw less rain, the grass dried up even more. The air got drier too.
Under normal circumstances, these conditions are manageable, but the
final piece of this awfully perfect storm came from hundreds of miles
away. See, usually in Hawaii when the public is told that a hurricane
is passing to the south and we won't get any rain, we are grateful to
avoid the direct hit. No rain, just heavy winds--a good outcome. But
Hurricane Dora was different. Without making landfall or producing a
single drop of rain, it whipped up the powerful winds that spread the
deadly fire. Flames barreled down the hillside, crossed the highway,
and plowed into town, fueled by 70-mile-an-hour winds. With that kind
of force, the fires only needed an hour or two to decimate Lahaina
town.
The winds also left the fire department without a critical tool:
helicopters to fight the fires from the air. So all they had were the
standard firetrucks and water hoses. But this was a whole town on
fire--not a block, not a home. That wasn't going to cut it.
The fires spewed ash and embers in every direction. The afternoon
skies darkened until they were pitch black. The air was heavy with
thick smoke. Cars exploded, power lines fell, engine blocks melted, and
homes were ripped apart.
People were not prepared for this because no one watching a fire a
mile and a half away from their home thinks that it is going to reach
their street and, worse, that it can happen in 10 or 15 minutes.
For those of us who weren't there in that hour of panic and chaos, it
is hard to fully understand the kind of split-second decision that
people were forced to make. Many grabbed their kids, their pets,
whatever they could physically carry, and took off. It was the last
time they saw their homes.
In a race against the fires, some of them jumped in their cars to get
out of town, but the one road out of Lahaina was blocked because of
downed power lines. So hundreds of cars piled up bumper to bumper on
the streets with nowhere to go. Many people abandoned their cars to
escape on foot, but others didn't make it. An entire family and a man
trying to protect his dog died in their cars. Dozens of people jumped
into the ocean to escape the flames. They stayed for hours, struggling
to breathe through the plumes of smoke. Others were crouched by the
seawall, using wet blankets to shield themselves from the flying
embers.
People didn't know how long they would be there or even if they would
be rescued at all. But many found help in strangers, people like Benny
Reinicke, who saw an elderly woman, Noni, unable to cross the seawall,
and he carried her on his back and stayed with her and her daughter in
the water for hours and hours, or Jubee Bedoya, who found a family of
seven from California on the shoreline and carried their 2-year-old on
his shoulders for hours in the water as they floated on a piece of
plywood. They were among the 17 people the Coast Guard rescued that
night.
All across town, heroic first responders put their own lives on the
line to fight the inferno and bring people to safety. Eighteen
firefighters lost their own homes while they were fighting the fires,
and in the weeks since, they have worked around the clock to contain
fires across Maui. We can't thank them enough. But even a thank-you
from me or anyone else feels inadequate. They didn't do it for us; they
did it for each other. They were fighting--they are fighting--for their
friends, for their families, for their neighbors, for their town.
Rescue teams have worked day and night to search for remains and
identify victims using DNA evidence. It is a painstaking process. For
friends and family, it is an agonizing wait to hear something, anything
about what happened to their loved ones and where they might be.
Lahaina was known as a historic town that had been the seat of power
for the sovereign Hawaiian Kingdom in the 19th century. It had also
served as a major hub for whaling, with hundreds of ships from around
the world anchored there. Later, its sugar plantation brought
immigrants from China, Japan, Portugal, and the Philippines who came to
work on it and made Lahaina their home.
Before the fires, you could see symbols of that rich history
throughout town--Nagasako General Store, Pioneer Inn, Waiola Church--
but it looks like a war zone now. Ash and debris stretch for miles.
Streets still reek of burnt metal and chemicals. Smoke lingers in the
air. Two thousand two hundred structures were destroyed. Most of them
were homes, some of which were passed down through generations. Roads
and bridges, schools and health centers, historic buildings, the
harbor--all of it destroyed.
The people of Maui are mourning unimaginable losses, but they are
also confronting an uncertain future. How long will it take to find a
permanent
[[Page S3881]]
home? When will they find a stable job again? Where will their kids go
to school this fall? But if there is any reason for hope in all of this
devastation, it is that people aren't carrying this burden alone.
Anyone who knows Hawaii knows that in a crisis, we all pitch in and
we help each other. When the fires engulfed the town that terrible day,
people from the island of Lainai saw the clouds of smoke and drove
their boats 16 miles across the channel to rescue people. In the days
and weeks since, even those who have lost their homes or jobs or loved
ones have given everything they have got to each other to make it all a
little less painful.
Everyday people are taking it upon themselves and springing into
action to help. At the Hawaiian homestead of Leialii, the community
came together and converted homes into supply distribution centers for
necessities like water and gas. Another center in Napili set up a power
and satellite internet station in the back of a truck so that people
without power or cell service could get in touch with loved ones. At
the University of Hawaii's Maui College, dozens of volunteers gathered
to prepare meals for people in shelters. A crew from Oahu brought
supplies on the sailing canoe Hikianalia, and a group of tour boat
operators delivered supplies from Maalaea Harbor, while surfers on jet
skis helped to bring them to shore. These people were not led by a
nonprofit organization; they just saw the community in crisis and
mobilized, and that is what Hawaii is all about.
While the individual stories of generosity and community give us some
heart, the reality is that everyone in Lahaina needs and deserves help.
People of every age and every background have been devastated by these
fires, and their needs are so enormous, they simply cannot do it alone.
So it is our responsibility here in Congress to provide relief in any
way that we can for as long as people need it.
In the past few weeks, following the President's quick disaster
declaration, we have seen the most robust mobilization of Federal
resources in Hawaii's history. Over 1,000 FEMA personnel have been on
the ground assisting survivors, and nearly every Federal Agency, from
the Small Business Administration, to the Department of Transportation
to HUD, has taken steps to deliver aid and bring relief to the people
of Maui.
My staff and I are in daily communication with our Hawaii
congressional delegation, State and local officials, senior
administration officials, and dozens of Federal Agencies who are all-in
to help Maui recover. Last month, the President and First Lady came to
Maui to show their support and hear directly from survivors. Speaker
McCarthy and several bipartisan Members of Congress have also come to
see the devastation firsthand. Many of my colleagues on both sides of
the aisle have reached out asking how they can help. It has meant a
lot, and I want to thank everybody for that.
But given all that was lost, it will take years for Maui to fully get
back on its feet, and more help will be needed from Congress in the
months ahead. Nearly 1,900 homes were destroyed, including an
affordable housing complex. Over 5,000 people have been displaced and
are living in temporary housing like hotels and Airbnbs. They will need
help finding permanent homes.
Three healthcare clinics, including a federally qualified health
center's satellite office, were destroyed. They provided critical
healthcare access to all of West Maui. Adult medicine, pediatric care,
OB/GYN services, dental and behavioral health--all totally lost.
Providers are doing the best they can using hotel ballrooms or tents in
parking lots to get people care. But people need more than just urgent
care; they need comprehensive care like checkups and counseling, and
they need to get it in a real clinic.
King Kamehameha III Elementary School, which educates over 600 K-5
students, was damaged beyond repair. The cost of a new campus is
estimated at $175 million. Three other schools in the area are still
closed and under inspection for air, soil, and water safety. Under
normal circumstances, we would already be a few weeks into the school
year by now, but as of last week, 1,200 students have not enrolled in
another public school. We need resources to get them back into schools
in-person and quickly.
Some people still don't have access to clean drinking water, and the
wastewater treatment plants were knocked offline, creating
environmental and health risks for the community. We don't yet know
what the cost of repair for these critical services will be.
Roads and bridges were torn apart and will also need to be repaired
so that people can move around. Over 1,000 electrical poles and 500
transformers are being replaced, and high-speed internet access has
still not been fully restored to West Maui. Before any of that can
happen, FEMA will need to complete one of the most complex debris-
removal operations in its history. We are talking about tons and tons
of waste that we will need to safely clean up off the streets and
transport out of Hawaii. It may take up to a year and cost up to $1
billion.
This is just some of the work ahead, and none of this will be easy.
While the full extent of the damages is still being assessed, we know
that the Federal share of costs for recovery will be in the billions of
dollars.
Americans all share the responsibility of providing relief to these
survivors because, while Maui is today's victim of extreme weather, it
may very well be another State tomorrow. We have already seen so much
damage this summer in Florida, California, Vermont, Louisiana, and
more. These catastrophic events are unfortunately becoming more common
and more severe.
In the weeks after the fires, I visited Maui every 3 days, and I
talked to first responders and survivors about what it was like on that
harrowing afternoon and in the days since. Their resilience and
determination in spite of their pain and their grief was striking.
When I asked people ``How are you doing?'' I was struck because I
often get the same response: ``I lost everything, but I am alive.''
``I lost everything, but I am alive.''
They know that they are the lucky ones, and they are trying to find a
way to get through this disaster.
I know that the people of Maui can recover and chart a new future,
but they cannot do it alone. They need help from everyone--in Hawaii,
here in Congress, and across the country. With time, scars will heal;
Lahaina will be restored; and we will be there to support them every
step of the way. Mahalo.
I yield the floor.
The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Kelly). The majority leader.
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