Losing everything: Lisa Agdeppa’s story

Lisa Agdeppa, a fifth-generation Maui native, was driving home from work on Aug. 8 at about 1:30 p.m. when she noticed something was wrong. 

The morning prior, large sections of the Lahaina area lost power, including her house, but Agdeppa still showed up to her work in downtown Lahaina. The winds picked up speed outside throughout the day, but she didn’t comprehend how extreme they were until she started to drive home.

“The trees were just bending so low. And there was a metal roof, twisted and crumpled around a pole,” Agdeppa said. “If it weren’t for that pole to have stopped the metal roof from flying further, it would’ve gone into the shopping center.”

Once home, Agdeppa took a nap as her husband and his mother fruitlessly attempted to keep the grass clear of fallen tree branches so they wouldn’t have to deal with it later. She awoke at 3:30 p.m. to a rapid succession of explosions from Lahaina. 

Startled awake, Agdeppa found her husband outside, struggling to tie down their canoes and looking toward the sound of explosions. They could only see dense, black smoke spanning Lahaina and reaching a mere few blocks from their home. 

“We were wondering, well, what’s going on? And we didn’t have any news; we didn’t have any communication whatsoever with anybody,” Agdeppa said. “Not knowing what to do, whether we need to leave, I look at my husband, and we’re like, we should talk.” 

Deciding to pack just the necessities on the firm belief they would return home, Agdeppa grabbed toiletries, clothes, a photograph of her kids, a leather-bound journal, a necklace with her granddaughter’s picture, and her granddaughter’s ashes. 

“I went to put my bags in the car, and then I saw one of my best friends with one slipper on, a suitcase, and her two stepchildren, who were 14 and 10,” Agdeppa said. “Her face was like, ‘I didn’t know where to go.’ She barely escaped her house, which is on Lahainaluna Road. If she hadn’t heard the explosions herself and looked out the window, she probably wouldn’t be here today.”

Feeling responsible for the safety of her friend and two kids, Agdeppa packed up the car and drove them to another friend in Launiupoko, a city south of Lahaina and further up the mountain. She had to say goodbye to her husband and his mother, who refused to leave the home.

“When I said goodbye to my husband, I said, ‘I’ll meet you there. Please come,’” Agdeppa said. “I am so glad that he eventually could convince his mom to get in his car because his mom was prepared to die. She said, ‘I’m not leaving. I’m ready. I’m ready to go with my house.’ But he wouldn’t let that happen; he would put her kicking and screaming in the truck and leave with her if he had to. I’m so glad he did that.”

Her husband and his mother meet them at a friend’s house several hours later. They were emotionally overwhelmed and shell-shocked; it was only 9 p.m., less than six hours after the fires flared up.

“We didn’t even know what to think. And then the next day, we discovered that all of Lahaina burnt,” Agdeppa said. “The next two weeks after that, we were just in a state of shock.”

After moving around hotels and friends’ homes, Agdeppa and her husband applied for Red Cross housing aid at Kaanapali Shores. They plan to stay in the provided condo until they can return to what remains of their home and start rebuilding.

“As soon as we can get water, we don’t even need electricity; I’d go back home,” Agdeppa said. “I’d camp. I’d set up a tent. Even if we got a camper, like the ones on wheels, and parked it outside, I’d live in it. Just to be back at home.”

Agdeppa and her husband could visit their home a few days after the fires started once the Maui government deemed the roads safe to open again. 

“I know Lahaina like the back of my hand. I grew up here and raised my kids here,” Agdeppa said. “But everything was just ashes; it’s unrecognizable.”

The home had been her husband’s family home for generations. The walls were covered in pictures and legacies; that house held everything and anything significant in his grandparent’s lives to his children’s. 

“That’s everything, and there’s nothing tangible anymore. And that’s truly devastating; my husband lost everything,” Agdeppa said. “We had two bags of clothes each. And I had my car, and he had his truck. And that’s it. We really thought we were going to go home.”