By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

You can see it more clearly now that the trees have grown back and the houses have been rebuilt, now that the memories of learning to get along without electricity or running water have faded and the sea of blue plastic tarp has receded. Hurricane 'Iniki taught many lessons, but they're mostly lessons learned in hindsight. Ten years ago, it just seemed senseless and overwhelming.

Civil Defense sirens sounded a few minutes after 5 a.m. on Sept. 11, 1992. Kaua'i had gone to sleep the night before hoping that the approaching hurricane would weaken and veer away, like so many others. But it didn't. 'Iniki was zeroing in and there was no wishing it away, only the mad dash to get ready, as ready as you can be for a storm of such unimaginable size.

It's a terrifying thing, hearing those sirens for real, knowing that it's not a benign monthly test. The sirens wailed for the last time at 11 that morning. By then, Mayor JoAnn Yukimura had ordered everyone off the streets and into their homes or public shelters. That order included police and emergency personnel. What a shock to realize that during the storm, we couldn't call on rescue crews for help. Police and fire and ambulance had to hunker down and wait out the storm, too.

People on Kaua'i had to face the Big Three of human terrors: a situation they couldn't control, an outcome that couldn't be predicted, and no clear rules on what to do.

'Iniki taught Kaua'i many practical things, like how to cook rice on a Coleman stove or the many uses of industrial-strength handle-tie trash bags or why putting a big X with masking tape on a plate glass window is largely a waste of time. It also taught the value of community, of teamwork and of keeping hope alive not just once, but many times during a recovery.

One of the most powerful lessons of 'Iniki is that nothing is forever.

The beautiful homes people had built on the island, the lush forests and gentle lagoons, all the trademarks of a sweet life on the Garden Island were swept away in a matter of hours.

But the destruction wasn't forever, either. The trees that stood like burnt matchsticks after the hurricane sprouted new leaves. The homes that were leveled were rebuilt. The fatigue and frustration of rebuilding lives went away.

Ten years later, there's a kind of confidence the 'Iniki survivors carry. It's not built on an unrealistic belief that something so destructive could never happen again. It's knowing that if it did, if there was another 'Iniki, that life would rise up from the rubble and that it would be different but good.

In the days after 'Iniki when all modern methods of communication were down, signs and messages spray-painted on pieces of plywood started popping up on roadways and neighborhoods. One of the most memorable became a slogan for Kaua'i, then and now. It said, "We can handle!"

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.