Well, I realized I needed to share with people far away what's been going on, so I guess I still am blogging, but its been five weeks and that will probably be more my norm. Maybe.
We've just gone through a once-in-a-lifetime week, I hope.
Last Tuesday I was at Cub Scout Day Camp, as our ward's rep. I had seven of my Webelos there, nine other boys from the Bears and Wolves, my youngest son, who was helping, and four other leaders from our ward, that I was responsible for. I also had equipment I had borrowed. During the morning all the boys went on a hike - Wolves 1hour, Bears 2hours, and Webelos 3hours. LittleBuddy led my Webelos on this 3 hour hike with boys from the other wards as I was assigned Command Post for the day -checking people in and out, sounding the fog horn for rotations, calling people to come to Command Post, etc.
After all the boys came back from their hikes, it was time for lunch. Then we had a nice presentation on Being Prepared, and using the Armor of God the Lord's given us by our high council rep, a policeman. Then it was on to rotations for the afternoon, with each age group doing different activities all surrounding this nice lodge we were using. About twenty minutes into the rotations I smelled smoke. I commented to my friend, the photographer, I hope the Webelos working on the Outdoorsman haven't caught the pine needles beneath the camp stoves on fire. Then the stake counselor pointed above the trees, and said look and we all saw smoke. She quickly checked her phone, and said there's a fire in Canon City, an hour away. I looked at the fire, coming above the trees, and said, "There's no way thats coming from an hour away. That looks like its coming from Pine Creek High School, about 4-5 miles away." This was about 1:30 in the afternoon.
We continued to watch and smell it, and it continued to grow worse. About fifteen minutes later, feeling nervous, I went to find one of our Wolves who has really bad allergies and asthma, and told him he needed to come out of the smoky air and into the lodge, where I had the nurse there keep her eye on him.
Anothe fifteen minutes goes by and the Stake leaders have sent someone to check on things. "It looks like just a house fire," they report. "There are several fire trucks and they have everything under control." I have my doubts. The blue sky continues to fill up with more plumes of dark smoke, the air continues to be more smokey and it looks to me like its getting closer to us, with big gusts of wind helping to keep us cool on this 94 degree day, but I know, sending embers traveling too. Meanwhile, they've called 911, let them know there are 200 people here at the Lodge, and to let us know if things get more serious.
Finally, about 2:23, its almost time for me to sound the foghorn, and signal the next rotation, but by this time, I am downright worried. I heard two little boys coming back from the bathrooms, one saying, "I'm scared of fire." "Me too, " says his buddy. I thought to myself, me too. I say to the Stake Primary President, who is my good friend, I don't want to push the horn for rotations. I want to bring everyone in. She says, well, we only have an hour and half more to go, I don't want to the boys to miss it. I say, I don't feel good about this, but you're in charge. Tell me what you want to do. Everyone's kind of looking at each other. One mother comes to check her two children out early. My phone says 2:25, I'm supposed to sound for rotations but I can't make myself do it. I start to pray inside. Just then my friend's cell phone rings, and she answers it. She looks at her counselor next to me. "They want us to evacuate." Then she turns to me, sound the horn to bring everyone in. I start sounding long blasts. She calls to me, make them longer and don't stop til everyone's in.
Well, I don't think everyone knew what the long blasts were about, but that horn was so obnoxious, and as people gathered to the command post area, eventually everyone came together. We were given directions that we were going to have a closing prayer, we've been told to evacuate, each ward leader would make sure each boy had a ride home, and then turn that info over to the stake leaders. I used each of the four leaders with me, after the prayer, and divided them up quickly according to where they lived. I took the four boys that lived furthest away, as well as my own son and his buddy, the Stake Primary President's son, knowing she was going to be too busy to worry about her own son at that time.
I was parked in the back, by our canopy which Mike and I had come the night before to put securely in the ground. I knew I didn't have time to take it out, but I quickly had the older boys grab the 5 gallon jug, the water cooler, and our step stool next to it, and piled everyone into the car. Since we were parked towards the very back, we were among the last from our ward to leave. I note the time on my car's dash - 2:45 p.m.
I really didn't know the area very well, except for the way we had entered, and that way was now blocked off. I was told by the policeman, high-councilman, who had returned to block off the roads, to follow the cars in front and head towards Black Forest Rd. So, I followed the blue car in front of me. Everyone else was much further ahead. This is a very windy neighborhood, with million dollar homes on large lots. With all the trees surrounding us, in the middle of this forest, there was no way to get my bearings or sense of direction. As I followed this blue car in front of me, it kept turning onto streets that dead-ended. That was scary too, as I could feel the urgency that we needed to get out of there quickly. Eventually we came to a street that was out of this million-dollar neighborhood, called Holmes Road. The blue car turned left and I turned right, as I was not trusting him at all, since he had led me down so many wrong ways.
We go a little ways, and I see a police car pulled cross-ways across the street, with another couple of cars pulled over to the side, and a policeman telling the cars coming from the opposite way to stop. I don't understand what's going on. I see a man crouch down with something about 3 feet long, slender, and black, and in my adrenaline-filled straight. slam on my brakes, and tell the boys to duck, thinking to myself, this man has a gun. He's hidden from the policeman, and peering out towards him. . . it takes me couple of minutes and the policeman turning to me to signal me forward, before I can get close enough to see the side of his Ford Bronco says the name of one of the TV stations, and he's setting up a tri-pod. . . okay embarrassing. Anyhow, we start moving, and this street is longer than I wish it was, but eventually I end up on a street called Shoup. I know this street name. Its the street I came in on. I feel confused, but know it runs into Black Forest Rd., so I feel a little relieved. When I get to the intersection of Black Forest and Shoup, I know one of our church buildings is there, but its not on the corner I'm expecting it to be. In fact, I can't see it at first, but the light has turned red, so I keep on going straight. Then I see the church on the left, quickly signal to enter the parking lot, and realize I am all turned around. I do a U in the lot, and get back, and turn right onto Black Forest, and eventually make my way out of the forest and finally am somewhere I know. It takes me forty-five minutes to get to the first home of one of our boys. The traffic up Black Forest is long and slow. So is Hodgen Road. I see several homes of friends of mine's homes along the way. This area used to be our ward before it was split last fall. I just had sat by a friend who lives right there at a baby shower a month or two ago, I'm thinking as I drive by. I sure hope they're all going to be okay.
Eventually all the boys get delivered. I am barely in the house a couple of minutes before 4 o'clock, when the Stake Primary Pres. calls and asks me to make sure each of our drivers made it home safe. They all did. I call to report. Then I take a few more calls from parents and leaders wondering what about Cub Camp tomorrow. I tell them I'll send emails as soon as I know anything. I have no idea how bad this is. I'm just exhausted, feeling stressed, and go get myself a couple of big drinks. My throat is parched. The air is better by my house, but still thick with smoke.
I talk to my big kids, explain what's been going in, and a little before five we turn on the news. Mike had called when we were on the way home, concerned by the news he'd heard. I suggest he come home as soon as he can. By this time, all the roads I've just been on are all closed down. We start seeing warnings for evacuations posted on the TV screen. We don't know the difference between Voluntary and Pre-evacuation, but we do know that Mandatory means to go now. That's not us, but we start to gather things together. All those homes I'd just driven by were Mandatory.
It takes Mike over an hour to get home. He'd left at 3. The roads are clogged with people evacuating and people trying to get home from work. He sees the flames and realizes this is bad. Our home is not in the forest, but we can see the forest from our backyard. The edge of the Black Forest is only about 1/4 miles from our house. We hear the fire is spreading. We hear sirens. We see the huge black plumes of smoke behind the trees. We're nervous. We start packing the car.
I called to talk to my mom and dad who are out of town. I know they have valuables theyd want to, but I cant get hold of them. Just then my brother, Rich called. He's heard the news and asks how he can help. Get a hold of Mom and Dad, I ask. He does within a half hour. What a blessing he called when he did. We are concerned for their home as well, so we start gathering their things. Its concerning for them as well as for us, but they feel more helpless. Every time we come home from my folks, we're parched and drink and drink. Just being outside is hard. Cowgirl is concerned. We begin talking several times a day, sometimes on email, sometimes on the phone. At news conferences, we have to hang up, with the latest updates to share when we next talk. It all feels very surreal. We pray, and we feel calm. We watch the news and we feel our hearts race again, seeing how bad it is.
At 11pm we get a phone call from 911-Event. They are calling to let us know our evacuation status has changed from Voluntary to Pre-Evacuation. We don't know what that means. After some internet sleuthing, we realize its a downgrade. No one ever called us to tell us we had been at a higher level earlier in the day. We are still concerned, and so Mike and I take turns sleeping. The other one keeps their eye on the news and on the Sheriff's twitter updates, which we find to be highly reliable and updated regularly. The local news stations are on around the clock.
By the 2nd day, when my shift is on again at 5a.m. I can hardly breathe inside my house. The air is so thick my voice is scratchy and I can't get enough water. The kids all wake up and don particle masks I have in their 72 hours for times such as this. They help somewhat, but aren't very comfortable. Our eyes sting. We carry cold washcloths with us. At the first news conference of the day, 9a.m. each morning, we feel more anxious. We find out over 300 homes have burned. This is so horrible. I then look on the mapquest on my computer, and trace my path home. I realize everywhere I got lost on a dead end cul-de-sac, that Holmes Road I took, Shoup and Black Forest, are all decimated. They show the burn zones on TV. They show the air support. We hear them over our house all day, reminding us we're not that far away from the destinations. The news lists the houses and addresses totally lost or saved. Large swaths of the streets I was on were burned up that first day. I feel sick inside. I probably had less than an hour to get lost and disoriented. What if I'd gotten more lost? What if those Webelos had been on their hike in the afternoon instead of the morning? What if the wind would have been blowing due North instead of West at first? I start counting my blessings.
We hear tales of people who thought they had half an hour and ended up having to leave immediately, just taking the clothes on their backs. We hear of a dog who woke up its owner in time for her to see her back deck on fire. As she ran out front one of her cars was on fire, so she took the other. . . too close. Then we hear the tragic news than two people didn't make it out. Their garage and car doors open, they had been in contact with someone and told them they were leaving, but they never made it out. Tragedy takes a new more heartsick turn. Not just houses, but people, loved ones belonging to someone. We realize that could be anyone who didn't get out in time. My brother Steve calls that night. He tells me he's an amateur meteorologist, and thinks well be okay. We hope so. The fire has spread farther east and north than any of us expected.
The next morning the fire is still raging. Mike and I didn't sleep too well again. The winds are projected to turn our way today. Day three finds us more sad as the housing toll rises to over 400. This is worse than the Waldo Canyon Fire a year ago. We have to go back into the cars to get some of the things we need. I realize the kids have all packed their toothbrushes, so find more in the recesses of my food storage. We're using up the food in the house. We don't want to leave home. We ask ourselves, why clean up, if the hosue is going to burn down, but we still do the dishes. The only time we do is when we go down to my folks. Every time we talk to them, they think of something else important. We start to add a few more things too. Not the essentials, but things that would be nice. We keep watching the big bushy plum tree in the back yard. When it leans West we get nervous. When it leans East we feel guilty, knowing it won't hurt us, but it will hurt someone else.
Between 2 and 4 each afternoon when the storms move over the mountains the winds kick up again. This time they're blowing West. They put our favorite park on Mandatory Evacuation. This is close to our home, the edge only 3 minutes from where we are. We can't understand why we're not Voluntary again. It feels too close. But we stay put, waiting for those dreaded words. We don't feel safe, as the fire blows to 1/4 mile from Highway 83. We know when it crosses that road, we are going to probably be a mandatory evacuation and much closer to danger. The forest across the road is continuous until the it reaches the West end which we see from our house. . . Still scary. Again we pray for peace, and feel it, but feel the nervousness and caution still too. When evening comes and the first stayed in place, we feel grateful.
The next morning they predict storms again. We pray for rain and it comes. We begin cleaning the house well and I make a grand dinner of salmon. Hope has sprung again. We think the worst is over, and it has. No more people lost. No more homes lost. The total is 483, almost 500 is unthinkable, but on this day it becomes stable. We start to feel more stable. We wish they would take us off pre-evacuation, but they don't. The hot spots are still there, they tell us. We wonder how long this will last. Finally, Saturday night, we come off. Four of the longest, more scary days our family has had in a long time.
Sunday comes and we go to church.We hear of miracles. We hear of blessings. The Black Forest church building is saved but things burned right up to the curb. Same with the Cathedral Pines Lodge. A friend tells me her daughter-in-law, on the Webelos hike with the boys, saw a man come out of the woods not long before the fire started from the direction it started. We see pictures from some who were allowed in. The boys' hike is black on both sides of the trail. We see devastation after devastation then a lone house standing. We don't understand things but we trust God has a greater plan for each of us. We realized we had each other and that's all that really mattered. The other stuff is stuff. Most of what we took just made it easier to deal with the world, but wasn't necessarily what mattered most to us. Mike had on the 3rd day encouraged me to go pack all the family scrapbooks. I was willing to leave them, and would if I only had 5 min. notice, but since I didn't they were coming if needed. I appreciated his concern for my years of recording our family history. I just can't unpack them yet. Perhaps I will need to cart them out fast again. Thank goodness for my big boys and their strong backs.
Afterwards, we put it all back, making note if each item was a 5 min. one, a half hour one, or a 12 hour one and wrote it all in a notebook. We hope we can be more prepared if we have to go through this again. Its hard to think with your mind racing in the heat of the moment. We gather in prayer again, in thanks, and in the spirit of faith. Its Father's Day. One of my Mia Maids from ten years ago has lost her 2nd child today, a two and a half week old baby. It doesn't fair to rejoice in our good fortune. Loss is still everywhere. Pain and sorrow are not over. Another dad doesn't get to hold his baby girl again. She's such a young mother. I pray for her to get through this. Life is hard. We've felt it this week. We've seen it too closely. We've been spared again. We have only thanks for this time, and hope our faith is strong enough to get us through next time.
