Paradise No More

Ron had just stepped into the shower after 7 a.m. on that Thursday morning in November. He's in pretty good shape for being 83, and his wife Kay is a "much younger" active and sharp lady. (Nine years!)

Kay heard their names being called on the stairs of the house they shared with her sister and brother in law. They live on the upper level, and the other couple on the lowest level. They shared the main floor kitchen and great room. It was a good arrangement.

Meg's voice signaled alarm so Kay responded quickly.

"I can see a fire, and the wind is blowing this way. " Meg called out. "I think we need to get dressed and grab our important things and leave."

Kay was immediately concerned and asked more questions. She then ran to the window and was shocked by the orange glow towards the northeast that Meg had described. Her apprehension now matched her sister's.

Ron, on the other hand, was still enjoying his morning shower and later admitted that he assumed it was just another evacuation call to be 'on the safe side.'

Although they had talked about preparing "grab and go" bags, Ron regretted that they had not followed through. This meant they were trying to put together necessities as quickly as they could under a great deal of duress. Except for Ron. He just couldn't shift into high gear.

In the midst of their harried packing, Meg's phone blared out the Emergency Mandatory Evacuation for the whole town of Paradise. It was odd that the other's phones remained silent.

Kay grabbed photos of their late son Rich, some clothes, important papers that she could think of. Things were hastily thrown into their small SUV. They decided to leave Ron's pick-up truck. It was parked in a gravelly area in the parking area.

They called a third sister in Durham and told her they were on their way. The two couples shared a backward glance and a forward prayer and drove away. Meg and her husband detoured to help their daughter Kristin and her family.

Ron drove up the narrow road that leads our of their forested community. The houses sit here and there on the canyon edge facing west towards Chico. The wind was strong and the sky was dark with smoke. Ashes were visible in the gusts and their concern grew. Once they reached Skyway, one of the two roads that lead down the mountain side, they discovered bumper to bumper traffic. It was the slowest race ever.

They had been on the road about an hour when Ron's phone rang. It was his sister.

"Where are you? Are you okay?" Her words were breathless. She was made aware of the fire when HolliAnne posted evacuation plans on Facebook. HolliAnne was Kay's and Ron's precious daughter-in-law when their 29-year old son died in 2009.

With his typical surprised tone and half laugh, Ron responded, "I'm driving, but I can talk right now because we're not moving."

Ron expressed relief when he was told that HolliAnne, husband, kids, and dog had departed safely and together. Though only related through love, the three and five year old are considered grandchildren thus Ron and Kay are Nana and Papa

(The above photo was taken by HolliAnne around 10 a.m. It took them 6 1/2 hours to drive what would have normally been 45 minutes or less.)

Everyone drove slowly through dark intersections hand-directed by first responders. The day turned to night as the sky above and below was obscured by the heavy smoke. The oncoming lane was reversed for outward bound with hopes to increase the flow. However, the escapees still gave right-of-way to the emergency vehicles, one after another. All firefighters and rescue squads were heading towards the inferno that was pulsating color into the smoke. Hot embers were sweeping across the road of the many who were late to leave and caught in the traffic jams. One wonders how those people could breathe.

At the end of the day the four families in this story were all accounted for. The things they left behind, not so much.

The fire was out of control. It had started around 6:30 near the mountain community of Pulga in high gusting winds. By 8:30 it had charged and charred swiftly through 15 miles of forested hills into Magalia and the eastern approaches to Paradise. By 9:30 Paradise was burning. The stories that filled the airways and internet the next few days were ones of fear, of bravery, of heroism. As it continued to burn, the Camp Fire became California's most deadly and destructive fire ever. Over 153,000 acres burned, 88 lives lost, and still many missing.

As the days passed, the families wavered between dread and hope, not knowing what had happened to their homes and neighborhoods.

It took three days before information and photos began to sift out to the homeowners , initially through firemen and policemen who also made their homes in the mountain towns. Eventually, these were followed by the photos that could be enlarged from the official Camp Fire web site.
ith the news of each house as a total loss the dread became their reality.

This photo was taken by one of the first responders and given to Meg. The smoke is still thick and clinging to the hills.

On December 15 the go ahead was given to Ron and Kay and the others to return to observe. They hadn't seen their houses since November 8.

The rain had arrived and according to Ron, "Everything was cold, wet, messy, and depressing.

Blackened trees. Piles of ashes. Where to start. What to do. When to do it. How to do it.

In the photo below, Meg captures the oddity of a blue garden globe that appears to be untouched by the fire, surrounded by charcoal beams. In stark contrast, the pick-up truck in the background charred and melted in a spot that should have provided a fire break. Their entire neighborhood was destroyed.

The one thing Ron and Kay saw that encouraged them that day was the little memorial they had made to honor their late son. Rich's Island was partially intact. The ornamental maple, a gift from their son's friends at the funeral, will probably not survive. But, my brother Ron and his wife will. As you can see, they once lost far more.