The Fire Part I

Hey all, welcome back! Where did I leave off last time? Oh yes, the fire!

Exactly one month has passed since that horrible day. The day the wild fire consumed our beloved town. Typically, when I think of “wild fire” I think of the forest. Every year wildfires rage through the Northern California and Oregon state parks and BLM lands, it is not at all unusual for this time of year. Never did I ever imagine that I would be running from one as it leveled our neighborhood.

As I was saying before, the smoke was thick and black and travelling quickly, we could see it billowing up two towns away and our first thought was – the horses! See we live in our sweet country cottage in the suburbs on a half-acre homestead in the quaint little town of Phoenix, OR. Our horses live on fifteen pristine, grassy acres that we lease in the city of Ashland which is about a 20-minute drive south of our home. Now that day was particularly unusual in the way that things worked out for us and I am still puzzling over the blind perfection of how it all unfolded. My husband would normally have been at work but by some divine stroke of luck, he didn’t have any appointments until later that day so we were both home together when the fire started.
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When we saw the smoke rise our first thought was, get to the horses! He jumped in the truck and tried to race through town but all the roads south were already closed. There was nothing we could do. He returned home and we prayed that the fire would not reach them and that if it did, they would be able to outrun it. Then we noticed the wind. Like I said before, it had been extreme that day and now that there was smoke filling the skies, we could see clearly that the wind was blowing straight towards us. We knew instantly where the fire would travel next.

The horses would be safe, what a relief! My next thought? Call the children, make a plan! When I got on the phone with my daughter she answered already in tears. I had to work to stay calm because it is one of the worst feelings in the world when your young children need you and you are not physically there for them, to comfort them and hold them. I did my best. I told her that they would need to get bags ready to go just in case the fire got close to them. Between sobs she told me she had no idea what to pack, she was already panicking. I said, “first take a deep breath, then grab a backpack. Pack your favorite things but only what will fit inside it, bring a couple of pairs of clothes and pajamas, clean underwear, socks and wear sneakers just in case you have to walk anywhere. Get your toothbrush and hairbrush. Bring your special blanket, a book and your favorite stuffed animal just like you would if you were going on a weekend long overnight trip. Don’t forget a full water bottle, and help your brother do the same. Tell your dad to bring as many bottles full of water as he can and lots of snacks for you.” Then we said ‘I love you’ to each other and just as I was about to hang up the phone she said “What if we can’t find each other and I never see you again?” And my heart broke right open. I told her there was no way that would ever happen. That I loved her and her brother more than anything in the entire world and that I would always find my way back to them and always be with them one way or another, no matter what. That is a promise I will never break, but it sure was hard to keep my voice steady in that moment.

At that point we had stopped receiving any kind of warning or communication from the city. There was supposed to be an emergency information system in place but in those hours, we were at a complete loss. We watched the smoke travel towards us until we could see the fire. Every neighbor on our street was outside watching and waiting, trying to guess what was burning. People were on rooftops trying to get a better view. Planes full of retardant were flying too close for comfort.

At about 3pm I got a call from the children, they said that the fire had reached the main street in their city and it was time for them to go. They were going to head north and call me when they landed in a safe place. I was grateful that they were getting out early, now I could focus here.

I grabbed the hose to water the mulched garden beds as well as the huge pile of cardboard which had accumulated on the side of our house as we had been cleaning out the garage and had yet to take it to the dump. I got about halfway through before we lost power and lost pressure. Luckily my husband had already done it once earlier, the deck and roof too, but it was so hot that day, there wasn’t a chance they were still wet. That’s it, there was no more water. It couldn’t be long now.

Our only reliable source of information were friends who were evacuating, going down the line from city to city checking in with each other, posting real time updates. “Talent Avenue is on fire”, “The flames are travelling along Bear Creek and have now reached Phoenix”, “The freeway south is completely shut down”, “The freeway north is too backed up to travel, traffic is not moving”. One heroic neighbor from just five doors down took it upon himself to go from door to door telling people, “its time now, get out!” He raced from house to house on our street informing people about the safest route out, then packed up his family and left. Sadly, his home was lost that night.

My husband and I waited until the last possible minute to leave. We couldn’t bear the thought of losing our home, everything we had worked so hard and carefully to create. We love our country cottage almost as much as we love our family. It is our sanctuary, a carefully curated collage of our family’s interests and accomplishments, our safe haven. Our workspace and play space. It took us a long time to settle here. We prayed hard, then we packed. Luckily, I had already filled just about every water bottle in the house, they went into the car first. Then our bags, the pets and all of their belongings, a brand-new bottle of Basil Hayden Dark Rye. The kids favorite stuffed animals and baby boxes full of pictures, the tablets and laptop, extra toilet paper, a couple of blankets and pillows. It is truly a wonder what you decide to take when you are in denial that you are about to lose your house and everything in it. You grab the things you know you will need on a day to day basis, you try to grab the things “they” tell you will be important like cash and hard to replace documents, you try to grab a few irreplaceable sentimental things, but how can you possibly know what will be the most important? What you will miss the most? And we were lucky we had so much time. So many people had just minutes to get out. We packed bags, but we also packed backpacks. We had no idea if we were going to be able to drive to safety or if we would end up running. We did our best.

We are fortunate enough to own three vehicles and we had to decide at a moment’s notice which two were the most valuable to us and which one would be left behind. We packed them up, got all the animals secured. Took one last look around our beloved home. One last touch to the lucky horseshoe that hangs above our door. One last prayer that our house would (by some miracle) be protected. Then down the street and out into back to back traffic, cats wailing in their cage, tears streaming down my cheeks, separated from my children by what felt like a million miles and praying for their safety, separated from my husband by one truck which had snuck in between us as we pulled out onto the back roads, inching along towards what we hoped would be safety and peace at least for the night. Black smoke billowing, out of control. My gas tank less than one quarter full, praying that I would be able to make it to the next gas station and that they would have gas left as we inched along.

A wall of flames behind us blazing ever closer.
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To be continued….