As a fast-moving inferno overran the Maui town of Lahaina this summer, a cascade of failures by officials left thousands trapped and largely fending for themselves. At least 100 people perished in the blaze — the deadliest U.S. wildfire in more than a century.

The New York Times examined hundreds of videos, interviewed dozens of people and analyzed 911 calls, weather models, traffic data and evacuation alerts. The investigation reveals a confluence of factors before and during the blaze, including:

>> A weather forecast that understated the risk in Lahaina.

>> Firefighters leaving the scene of a morning fire, minutes before a flare-up.

>> Critical escape routes that remained blocked for hours.

>> Delayed evacuation orders and mixed messages to the public.

>> Communication failures so extreme that, for hours, Maui’s mayor appeared unaware that fire was incinerating Lahaina.

It began with a brush fire shortly after sunrise Aug. 8, when a power line snapped in high winds and ignited the dry grasses underneath. While some U.S. electric companies in other wildfire-prone areas cut power to lines in high winds, Hawaiian Electric, the state’s largest electric utility, did not do so when the winds kicked up.

A resident captured the fire’s early moments on video at 6:48 a.m.

Firefighters responded immediately and contained the fire within a few hours.

But within 12 hours, Lahaina was consumed. Another video, shot from the same location, showed the town ablaze.

From grass fire to inferno

Before the fire, a major forecast model used by the National Weather Service predicted a dire situation in Lahaina, according to data analyzed by the Times, with projected hurricane-force gusts of up to 76 mph.

But rather than highlighting the risks in Lahaina, the weather service issued a broad warning for all the Hawaiian Islands, and that warning never made reference to the 76 mph projections. Instead, the initial warning to the public said gusts could be over 65 mph, and that number was later lowered to around 60 mph.

Cliff Mass, an atmospheric sciences professor at the University of Washington who has been studying the Lahaina fire, said the warnings had failed to “spotlight the extreme threat that existed there.”

The weather service was unable to explain to the Times why it did not emphasize the heightened level of danger that Lahaina faced.

Unusually potent winds began accelerating down the slopes of the West Maui mountains. The hillsides were covered in highly flammable grasslands, which had been a concern among the region’s wildfire experts but left unmanaged by officials and landowners.

Crews had monitored the site of the morning fire for seven hours and believed it was safe. At 2:18 p.m., firefighters returned to the station to eat and recharge, said John Fiske, a lawyer representing Maui County. The move alarmed some residents, who feared the prospect of a flare-up.

Flames soon reemerged. The flare-up was in the same area as the morning fire, but investigators have not yet issued firm conclusions about the cause. A 911 call at 2:52 p.m. led firefighters to be dispatched again.

Minutes later, residents could see smoke growing.

By 3:22 p.m., according to the county’s account, the fire had jumped past the Lahaina Bypass, one of the main exits out of town, soon forcing the road’s closure. Two police officers who had been helping battle the flare- up with hoses, according to their body camera footage, soon realized how far flames were spreading. “Everything is on fire,” one said.

Shortly after, a resident saw smoke darkening as it tumbled down the hillside.

Desperate escape

Zero Campbell, a longtime resident, lived in one of the first homes the blaze reached.

In the thick smoke outside his home, he could not see fire but suddenly felt a wave of heat on his skin. “The heat was so much that it was causing tremendous discomfort,” he said. Campbell, 55, immediately fled in his car, down Lahainaluna Road.

The view from his car was of blinding smoke blowing in heavy traffic.

Along the road was the Hale Mahaolu Eono senior living complex. There, residents soon found their lungs burning with smoke and heat as the fire reached the property. One of them, Joe Schilling, texted a friend at 3:51 p.m. and said, “We are trapped.”

Six residents were gathered in a unit, breathing through wet towels, Schilling texted. In his final message, at 4:06 p.m., he reported that parked cars were exploding.

Schilling’s family is unsure what happened after that. The next day, his friend’s message checking on him failed to deliver. Schilling was one of at least seven residents at the complex to die.

Flawed response

By 4:13 p.m., the blaze had spread across an immense footprint, engulfing or threatening hundreds of homes.

Despite the fire’s rapid progression, emergency managers opted not to activate the town’s “all hazards” siren system, saying later that they feared people might think the siren was warning of a tsunami and evacuate toward the fire.

Residents have questioned that decision, and the chief of the emergency management agency resigned a week after the fire.

At 4:16 p.m., about an hour and a half after the flare-up, officials instead issued an evacuation alert to cellphones of residents and tourists, but only to a portion of town. County officials have not explained how they determined what areas received the alert.

By the time the alert went out, the fire already had churned through the evacuation zone. Taken more than 20 minutes earlier, a still from a video captured a family chased by flames while fleeing their home right inside the boundary.

The Times identified at least seven people who died at the edge of the evacuation zone, near Honoapiilani Highway, while trying to escape. That included 7-year-old Tony Takafua, who died with several family members in a vehicle. He was the youngest victim identified by authorities.

Starting at 4:19 p.m., just a few minutes after the evacuation alert, a flurry of 911 calls reported that fire had crossed the highway, threatening residences as it spread toward historic Front Street.

As residents and tourists rushed to leave, most roads out of town were either partially or fully obstructed. People became trapped near the waterfront with no clear direction from officials and cell service already faltering.

At 4:35 p.m., someone desperate to evacuate called 911. “Just get out of Lahaina. I don’t care where you go,” the operator said. “Just get out of Lahaina town.”

“Roads are closed. I can’t turn out,” the caller replied.

A Times video analysis found fallen utility poles or lines blocking the primary exits out of town. Some roads remained partially open, but the county had issued two notices in the afternoon warning that these fallen lines could still be energized. Hawaiian Electric has since said the lines had been de-energized for hours.

Downed lines blocked the Honoapiilani Highway near a southern exit for more than 10 hours. A video at 4:45 p.m. showed gridlock as fire billowed in the background. The county said part of the roadway reopened soon after, allowing some people to start escaping southbound.

To the north, poles and lines fell in the afternoon, blocking an escape route on the highway for hours. Hawaiian Electric last year proposed strengthening poles that carry lines across highways in order to prevent road blockages during emergencies. That plan had yet to be approved by regulators.

With no other options, Campbell, one of the early evacuees, and other drivers were forced toward Front Street.

After about 90 minutes, Campbell eventually escaped the path of the smoke and fire. Then he saw the destruction behind him. “Yes, I made it out,” he said. “But now I’m also sitting here watching my whole town burn.” Many others remained trapped.

Videos captured near Front Street showed cars lined up near the waterfront amid smoke so dense that the afternoon appeared like nighttime.

Danger ahead

From his apartment near the waterfront, Freeman Tam Lung, 80, a lifelong Lahaina resident, had been watching the winds bending treetops all afternoon. His neighbor said residents of the apartment complex learned about the alert, but some were comforted to see that they were not in the evacuation zone.

On its website and social media, the county soon urged many people to shelter in place unless told to evacuate. But flames suddenly emerged near Tam Lung’s apartment. He and another neighbor, Etina Hingano, began to flee while putting out embers that had caught on his shirt and on her hair.

Though Tam Lung had trouble walking, they pressed on by foot to Front Street. A still from a video shot at 4:51 p.m. shows that fire already had taken hold of a building ahead of them.

With the blaze spreading so rapidly, firefighters were still trying to control the fire that was consuming homes about a mile from Front Street.

Firefighters said that they began losing water pressure in their hydrants, hampering efforts to slow the blaze.

Meanwhile, a firestorm was consuming storefronts on Front Street near where Tam Lung and Hingano had walked.

As flames rose around them, Tam Lung and Hingano climbed over the sea wall.

Eventually, dozens of people crouched behind the sea wall.

Tam Lung remained on the sea wall rocks as Hingano waded into the water, joining others. Some ducked underwater to extinguish the embers that landed on them. People with children were seen hanging onto a piece of floating wood. Help was nowhere in sight.

Death and rescue

During a 6 p.m. newscast, Richard Bissen, the Maui County mayor, appeared unaware of the extent of the Lahaina fire, saying he was “happy to report” the opening of a road that had been blocked.

He told people in Lahaina to follow TV and social media, saying, “We have reports of structures, older buildings, that have been burned in Lahaina.” He added that he did not know the “names and locations” of the burned buildings. Bissen later said that he was unaware of fatalities until the next day, even though police officers were made aware of multiple fatalities long before his television segment. His office did not respond to repeated requests for an interview.

The town has said there was not a breakdown in its official communications, but a video taken more than an hour before the mayor’s appearance on TV showed people already fleeing an inferno.

On the Lahaina harbor dock, Chrissy Lovitt and two fellow boat captains felt the heat of the fire. They captured the view from their small boat at 5:49 p.m.

With no visible signs of firefighters or the Coast Guard nearby, they transported a group of people from the harbor to another boat anchored away from shore.

After getting a call about people fleeing fire into the water, the Coast Guard arrived on the scene about 7 p.m. Crew members evacuated two people on a sailing boat. An hour later, they navigated into the harbor, blinded by smoke, until a flashing light blinked on the harbor’s breakwall.

They pulled seven people to safety from the breakwall before the dangers of burning boats forced them to leave.

With as many as 100 people in the water, the Coast Guard put out a call for vessels. Lovitt was among those who responded — later helping to rescue two children. But a reef prevented the Coast Guard from getting close to the evacuees huddled north of the harbor.

Tam Lung and others were still on the rocks or in the water as fire raged around them. Vehicles were exploding. In the thick smoke, some people were drifting in and out of consciousness.

Nearby, a resident captured video at 8:34 p.m. showing cars and buildings on fire.

At one point, Tam Lung lifted himself up to look at the devastation, his neighbor Hingano said.

She recalled him calling out through the smoke: “I just want to see Lahaina one more time.”

Later in the night, as flames began to wane, another neighbor went to check on him.

Tam Lung was slumped over against the sea wall. He had died.

Firefighters had rescued dozens of people from the sea wall by 2 a.m. The fire continued spreading into the next morning. To the north, more residents, unsure of the risk to them, were roused from their homes when flames suddenly reached their streets. The fire also spread to the town’s southern edge, where police worked to evacuate residents.

The inferno ultimately consumed thousands of buildings, stretching across more than 3 miles of Lahaina’s waterfront.

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