Ashes, Ashes, it's all burned down

"She ran calling wildfire!... 
She's coming for me, I know, And on Wildfire we're both gonna go."

Oct 8th night to early Oct 9th, 2017.  A day that will live in infamy.

To me, it started as any other day. I woke up, scurried my children off to school, got my morning coffee, got back into bed, and started scrolling Facebook. But what was in my timeline, wasn’t like any other morning. It wasn’t the typical cryptic emotions posts. It wasn’t the usual family and animal posts. There were no political posts. ALL I SAW WAS TERROR.

As I slept, a firestorm ripped through my hometown, and also my surrounding stomping grounds. Santa Rosa, Napa, Geyserville, Clearlake, Potter Valley, and my sanctuary, Redwood Valley.  Everything was on fire.  

I froze. I yelled for my husband to come into my room and told him that (specifically) Redwood Valley was on fire. It sounded like my entire family had to evacuate. I started panicking as I read of reported deaths. Of people who left in their slippers.  Of people who had to drive through the flames. Of reports of structures erupting in balls of flames. I was losing my mind.  Scared.  Helpless.  I called my dad.  He didn’t answer. One ring then to voicemail. I then tried my mom’s home. I got ahold of Dawn, my sister in law. She, my brother and their two children had to evacuate to my mom’s home in Ukiah.  They had a home filled with evacuees. In fact, the entire town of Redwood Valley had to evacuate.  Thankfully, everyone in my family was safe.

I chatted online with my cousin who was sleeping at my grandparents home when her sister roused her at 2am to get the heck out of there. Grabbing what she could, she got into my grandma’s new car, filled the back with all she could, and left, hoping that she would be able to return.  She grabbed an Ipad, a painting that our great grandma had painted, a box of photos, a dream catcher that I had just given to my grandma (that I made), and very few other items. She didn’t realize the danger she was in until she went outside and saw ashes fall.  She credits her little sister for getting her out of the house. Communications were starting to fail.  It wasn’t long after she left, the wind whipped fire’s course went right through the home.

My grandparents were out of town. They had gone to my grandpa’s 60th Class reunion in Red Bluff, CA, and had their trailer, truck and their two dogs with them.  I knew they were safe. But their home’s fate, along with thousands of others, held in the balance.

I searched photo after photo, post after post, for information. One of my best friends Karen, posted a photo of the aftermath of her home. Gone. The tree that was a constant concern of hers, still stood. The story of Kai the 14 yr old boy who tragically died was released. His family fled but their car got caught in the fire, they ran. He didn’t make it, and his sister was burned so bad, she lost her legs. Missing people reports were being posted. Chaos was rampant.

At 4pm I got a call from my mom’s phone. “Hi mom.” “Uhh, hey Megan, it’s Ben. There’s been a bit of a tragedy.” “Ok.” “Yeah, Grandma’s place is gone. Like, gone gone. Completely burned.”  I burst into tears.

You see, two years ago I watched from FB as Middletown  California burned. I had never witnessed the horror that that fire brought to the town. Decimating entire blocks. Burning schools. Businesses. My sister/friend Jen lived there and I have very fond memories cruising the neighborhoods with her in my youth. I was left scarred.  This has stayed with me.  As my husband and I fix our home so that we can sell it and buy property, we have discussed the threats of wildfires.  This has been in our minds as we search for homes.  One way in. One way out.  In June I sat with a friend and told them my fears of wildfires. That there was a scare earlier this summer at my grandparents home where they had to evacuate.  I was told while it’s a real fear, it’s not that big of a deal anylonger due to, “blahh blahh blahh.”  Well, my fear was valid.  A few months later, my nightmare became my reality.

The hardest part about this whole thing for me, is that this is the second time my grandparents have lost everything. Almost 50 years ago they started in a trailer with their small children and built a home. 33 years ago it burned down. So this is the second time they’ve sifted through ashes and burned rooms to find small mementos.  But this time, there’s nothing left.  It is just ashes. The decks. The gazebos. The vehicles on the property. Gone.  I wish it had been my home. Not my wonderful loving grandparents.  

The fire was so hot. It was so rapid. And it’s course was so random. We held out hope for the metal garage’s items, but the fire got inside and it reduced the stored items to dust. All that is left is the eery bones of what once was a filled garage and loft.

I close my eyes and I picture it. I can see every wall. I can see every room. Every photo hanging on every wall. I imagine myself walking in through the double glass doors and putting my purse on the counter while my kids run past me into the bonus room I pretty much grew up in.  Watching them play where I played.  I picture the excitement my grandma had of the new table that she had just purchased. I saw it being unpacked mid August. I never got to sit at it.  I see the recently remodeled kitchen, although I can also see the way it was before.  I see birthday parties, Christmas, Thanksgiving… I see all of us being at that center. Whole. I am saddened by what the Holidays will bring this year. Where will we all meet?  Where will so much of the family stay?

I am so tired of hearing, “At least they are alive.”  Yes, they are alive, and yes, it’s just stuff. But it’s our stuff.  It’s our memories. It’s our center. It’s our safe space.  These are our photos, 50th wedding anniversary gifts, favorite mugs (Classy Lady), Paintings, ridiculously large TVs that make us envious…. Yes, we will rebuild. But we will forever remember the horror, and the sadness. We are all changed. I try to explain it to my children and they cannot understand. That is ok. It is hard for people to understand our attachment because so many people move. But my families are not nomads. My parents; 33yrs owned same home. My grandparents whom recently died; 50 yrs. The grandparents that just lost their home; almost 50 years. I am so thankful I have a strong support who allows me to grieve as I need.  Everyday  I am sick at the sight of the photos that are released and posted daily. And it’s not just Redwood Valley. Santa Rosa and Napa were hit even harder.  My father retired from the City Of Healdsburg, but spent many years working for the City of Santa Rosa.  I played the schools in Volleyball. I spent hours with my dad while he was on call, I shopped in the malls and the

Costcos there. Whole neighborhoods. Gone. I have a few friends I grew up with lose their homes there too.  This is very personal. And it hurts

It has been a very hard few weeks for Northern California. I know the next few months are going to be even harder as the rains come and those that want to, rebuild. The process will be slow.  I am so thankful for my family and the strength they all show at this time.  My mom is on her way here tomorrow. I know I will cry a few times with her this week as we celebrate Eden and her accomplishments. Writing this has helped me heal a little. I knew I needed to get this out.

Today is my Grandmas Birthday. Today hurts a little more. But tomorrow I will be a little better.