PAHOA — It was lunchtime, and the village streets buzzed with their regular daily activity. ADVERTISING PAHOA — It was lunchtime, and the village streets buzzed with their regular daily activity. The tables were filled at Luquin’s Mexican Restaurant, thirsty
PAHOA — It was lunchtime, and the village streets buzzed with their regular daily activity.
The tables were filled at Luquin’s Mexican Restaurant, thirsty patrons awaited steaming cups of joe at Sirius Coffee, and an eclectic mix of residents and visitors wandered the sidewalks, poking their heads into shops and talking story on the street corners.
From all outward appearances, it was just another day in Pahoa.
Except, of course, for the rising column of smoke visible to the southwest — a grim reminder of Pele’s steady approach.
The conversation among Pahoa’s denizens appeared to be all lava, all the time Thursday afternoon. Having learned the June 27 lava flow appeared poised to strike near the center of Pahoa Town in about two weeks, some took the news in stride, while others were more fatalistic in their views.
Friends and neighbors from the same street in Hawaiian Paradise Park, Tommy Rown and Kenneth Pasco came into town to catch a bite to eat, and to mark a potentially depressing milestone
“We like to go into Pahoa to get lunch every once in a while, and we were sitting around, and we were like, ‘Hey, let’s go get something to eat, this could be the last time we get to have lunch in Pahoa,’” Rown said.
The pair’s “last meal” included plate lunches of roast pork, fried rice, char siu and noodles from L&L Hawaiian Barbecue.
Inside the restaurant, patrons were busy discussing the seriousness of the developing situation mauka of town.
“The owners, they didn’t realize how bad it was,” Paco said.
Rown agreed.
“We told them, you can see the smoke coming towards us from all over town. They didn’t know it was that close,” he said.
He added that his biggest fear was that the lava flow would suddenly change direction and head toward his neighborhood.
“Anything can happen,” Rown said.
Friends Sandra Cantu and Leslie Munger were catching up in the parking lot in front of the Akebono Theather when asked by a reporter to talk about their thoughts on the threatening lava flow. As they spoke, the distinctive light blue wisp of smoke rose into the air behind them, emanating from the wet vegetation of the Wao Kele o Puna Forest Reserve about 3 miles away as the lava burned its way down the hill.
“It is a little unsettling,” Munger said of the potential for the lava coming into Pahoa, “especially when you think about how difficult it might end up being, getting in and out (of lower Puna). How on earth are we going to get food in and out? … Or get a bus or a ferry here?”
Cantu said that as a homemaker in Hawaiian Beaches and the mother of a Pahoa High student, she worried about whether her son would be able to graduate from the school this year, or if the family would have to pick up and move to another area.
“If it comes over (Highway) 130, where are all these people supposed to go? We’ll be fighting with thousands of people trying to find places to rent. … And after Iselle, we have no savings, we’ve spent all our savings. There’s no safety net anymore,” she said.
Amanda Hubbard appeared unfazed by the talk of encroaching lava as she changed her son Jonny’s diaper from the rear of her SUV in the parking lot at the Pahoa pool. As she spoke, she occasionally glanced over her shoulder at the rising plume of smoke in the distance.
“I’ve been looking at the maps every day and keeping an eye on it, but, if I was concerned about lava, I wouldn’t live here,” she said with a laugh. “It’s kinda scary, but if we need to evacuate, we’ll evacuate. It’s moving slow enough they can keep an eye on it. … It’s on my mind all day long, though.”
She added that if necessary, her family discussed moving in with relatives up the Hamakua Coast.
Perhaps the most light-hearted approach to the lava was being taken by artist Steve Raymond, who had made a special T-shirt reading “Go With the Flow at Pu‘u O‘o,” which he was wearing at a meeting Wednesday evening in Pahoa.
A Hawaii Island resident for 30 years, Raymond said he’s also made shirts that read “Mauna Loa Gonna Bloa in Pahoa” and “I Survived Tropical Storm Iselle.”
As for his plans, the man said he would remain in town and forage to survive, as well as stockpile food and water.
“Some will stay. There’s not a whole lot of places to go as an artist,” he said. “What am I going to rent? Hilo will be packed.”
Email Colin M. Stewart at cstewart@hawaiitribune-herald.com.
