I’m not a fan of witnessing Pele (Hawaiian Goddess of fire) in action. I think she does a great job of being the fire goddess and I think she is supposed to scare us mortals.
I grew up on the Big Island in the 50’s. The only excitement there was eruptions. Didn’t matter where it was or what time of the day or night, I recall it was a must-see-immediately situation. When I was five, I was playing with my friend when her father heard of an eruption in the Puna area and he wanted to pile his family into the car and drive over there…in a hurry. In those days they had volunteer “Watchmen” who acted as the police in an emergency, and her dad was one of them. Sometimes he was given notice ahead of the general public on things like the newest eruptions. In this case he was told of an eruption in the Puna area. Her parents asked mine if it would be okay to take me along. “Sure, Wilma will probably enjoy the ride.”
It took less than an hour to drive out to Kapoho where the eruption was. When we parked the car we could see in the distance a house slightly tilted to the right, as if it was falling into a hole. Not many people were there to see the eruption because it wasn’t made public yet. The unusual thing about this one was it was taking place in an area that was not inside a crater. No one there had seen anything like this before.
We were able to drive quite close to the house. On the right side of the house was a small fountain of lava spewing out. The ground was rumbling and the vibration traveled up your legs and into the pit of your stomach. A five-year-old does not forget how that felt. We were parked in a large field. We got out of the car and walked as close as we could to the house. I could see cement steps leading up to the front door. Plants along the walkway on either side were still alive. Everything looked pretty normal, so normal that it looked like it could have been our house. I thought about how we had the same plants and the same color house.
When the adults were done looking at what we had come to see, we started walking back to the car. I remember it looked like we parked in a wide, open field. We could see the car, but now my neighbor couldn’t figure out how to get back to it. The ground had more cracks in it than it had earlier, and we couldn’t jump across them…we were five. So we took another route to the car and then discovered we couldn’t go that way either. I remember wondering if we were ever going home again. I sensed that my friend’s dad was getting worried. Finally after walking for what seemed like a very long time, we made it to the car and left.
The next day my father announced that we would all go to see the newest eruption. “No,” I said. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay at home. My parents ignored my panic…“of course you’re going.” I was very upset. I didn’t want to return to the very hot lava fountain and its rumbling sounds, and most of all I didn’t want to repeat that scary experience of not being able to get back to where we had parked.
Everyone in my family piled in to the car except me. I hung on tightly to the front door, then the car door, all the while screaming that I was staying home. No one understood what I was doing. Five-year-olds do not have the language to express fear…I was acting it out.
When we got to the eruption we were far away from the house with the lava fountain. By this time the house was tilted even further and the lava was still spewing. Civil Defense had cordoned off the house with yellow tape. We couldn’t park anywhere near that house, but I still refused to leave the car. Eventually, my story came out. I told my Dad that I had walked very close to the house. I told him that the lady had plants like we did (anthuriums) and then we had a hard time getting back to the car. He asked me to point out where we were when we had seen the eruption the day before. When I showed him how close we’d been, he got very upset. He agreed it was not a safe viewing spot. We should never have been that close.
When we got back home, my dad had a word with our neighbor. The whole experience felt so dangerous and volatile, and that kind of eruption outside of a crater rattled everyone. We all felt vulnerable that if it could happen there, it could happen anywhere…including our house.
I have never liked the sounds that Pele makes when she is in full production. She’s impressive alright, and to a small child the memory of being stuck out there so close to her fury made for many sleepless nights.
