The New Yorkerさんのインスタグラム写真 - (The New YorkerInstagram)「At 12:22 A.M. on August 8th, a brush fire ignited in central Maui, prompting evacuations. At 6:37 A.M., 36 miles away, another brush fire ignited, in a bone-dry field bordering Lahaina Intermediate School. The county declared that the Lahaina fire was contained by 10 A.M., but around 3 P.M., the fire had flared up again in the same area. Firefighters faced conditions that exceeded their capabilities—the day’s strong winds, high temperatures, and low humidity allowed the blaze to tumble freely and grow exponentially faster. The wildfire that spread through Lahaina was the deadliest in the United States in more than a century: 99 people have been confirmed deceased, and in a town of nearly 13,000 people, at least 7,200 were displaced. The devastation of the wildfire was unprecedented, but the fire itself was not. Public safety officials, scientists, and activists had warned for years of the wildfire risks in Maui, owing to the surging population and dryness of the island. “It was a ticking time bomb,” a conservationist who studies native Hawaiian ecosystems said. “The bomb went off.” Not a single warning siren was activated when the fire began, and the Maui Fire Department, which is underfunded and short-staffed, initially had 16 firefighters on duty in Lahaina that afternoon. Locals have since come together to recover and rebuild, sharing advice, consolation, and ideas about the future of Lahaina. One of the community’s biggest fears, now, is that the rebuilding process will favor developers, tourists, and the wealthy. “Everything will be O.K. if the government really helps us, but they’re not,” a survivor of the fire said. “It’s the people of Maui who’s helping each other.” At the link in our bio, read about what led to Lahaina's deadly fire—and how the affected community hopes to rebuild their town. Photographs by Bryan Anselm / Redux for The New Yorker.」11月2日 0時01分