In the intense hours of the storm, the raw and ruined days that followed and the months of going without, few would have said that we were lucky.

Nothing was lucky about being smack dab in the path of 'Iniki, of having the worst of the winds, the walls around the eye, bear down on Kaua'i. We felt pretty unlucky then, almost targeted, chosen for misery.

But we were lucky.

We lost a lot, but not everything. We were left with much to work with.

Looking at the pictures of devastation in Mississippi and Alabama and particularly in New Orleans, those of us who rode out 'Iniki on Kaua'i 13 years ago have the clarity of hindsight.

We were lucky that few lives were lost. When the wind raged like a malevolent force and we hid under furniture and in doorways, it seemed like the death toll would be terribly high. But the shelters held, though the roof of the Convention Hall buckled and the glass in the school cafeteria broke, the folks inside were spared. Six lives were lost to 'Iniki. The death toll in the Gulf states is unfathomable.

We were lucky that we could help ourselves. So many of the people left homeless by Katrina have no way to be self-sufficient. They can only wait and wait for help to arrive. Folks on Kaua'i could make our way back to our homes and assess the damage, pick through what was salvageable. There wasn't pilau water in the way, and the utility poles and fallen trees and piles of sand could be moved by three bruddaz and a cop. We could cook on hibachis and use the broken roofs for kindling if we had to. It wasn't cold at night. The heat wasn't oppressive during the day. It was not comfortable, but we could get by before help came from outside.

And we were lucky that we got along.

All the talk of aloha seemed like platitudes then, but to see the horrible situation in New Orleans made even worse by the actions of some of the survivors, we can see how remarkable Kaua'i was during the fear and suffering that come with disaster.

We knew all our neighbors. We didn't have to make fast friends and quick judgments about whom to trust. We didn't have to fight over provisions. In many, many cases, help was offered before anyone even asked. One man in Keapana Valley got in his tractor as soon as the winds went down. His little girl sat on the front holding a flashlight while he cleared fallen trees from the road — not just from his house out to the main road, but all the way up the valley, as far as he could go. That sort of thing happened all over the island.

Would we be as lucky again?

Best not to count on luck. Best not to count on some agency to fix everything. Best to learn from those who have lived through the storms, see what worked and what didn't, and be prepared for whatever may come.

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