Sunday, June 23, 2013

Thoughts and Observations on Being an Evacuee

It was a beautiful June afternoon on the outskirts of Colorado Springs and on the edge of the Black Forest.  The Forest, as it is called by the locals, is a heavily wooded unincorporated community on the northeast side of the city.  The people who live here are primarily people who are looking for the opportunity to live a more rural way of life where cows, goats and horses; cats and dogs; chickens, ducks and turkeys; llamas and even yaks; far outnumber the human inhabitants.  Elk, antelope, and other native animals also make their homes here.
 
My motorhome was parked on the concrete site next to my son and daughter-in-law's home and I needed a few things from "town."  My 16 year old granddaughter and I headed into the Springs planning to meet up with her Mom later in the afternoon. Little did we know that by the end of the day we would be "evacuees."

As we went from store to store we would catch talk on the radio about a forest fire in the Black Forest.   We saw the huge plumes of smoke rising hundreds of feet in the air, but it seemed that it was just a news story that didn't really affect us.  When she called home, her Mom explained that she had decided to stay home and and would prefer it if we came on home.  On the way we continued watching the big plumes of smoke and taking pictures.  Reality set in when we arrived in their neighborhood.  There was a smoky surreal feeling, neighbors were standing outside all looking to the west and reality set in.  This wasn't just another news story, we were part of the story.

Throughout the evening our attention was focused on the television reports, and running to the back deck where we had an unobstructed view of the fire.  We could clearly hear the explosions as propane tanks burst and see the huge flames shoot into the sky as the fire attacked another growth of trees, or even worse, someone's home. 

In the early evening hours the television news announced that our area had just gone into pre-evac status.  I prepared my motorhome; disconnecting the electric, water and sewer and stashing away anything breakable.  The others focused on watering down the wooden decks and leaving hoses and sprinklers where firefighters could use them if needed.  Inside the house everyone was packing what they wanted to take should we have to leave.  There was the obvious, clothes for several days, pictures, important papers, and then I started hearing each one of them saying, "It's just stuff." 

About 11:00 that night we were advised that we were on mandatory evacuation.  It was time to load up all that had been packed and leave.  There was no panic, just a nervous quiet as we prepared to leave.

The night seemed eerily darker and quieter than usual and because the main entrance into their neighborhood was closed off, we had to use alternate roads to leave.  It was a string of headlights all heading away from the fire.  As we reached the town of Falcon we passed Safeway where the parking lot was lit up like broad daylight and cars, trucks and rvs filled the area.  We arrived at Walmart, our agreed upon spot to regroup.  Again, we found a full parking lot.  Although the entire area was full of people, the thing I will always remember is how quiet it was.  It seemed to epitomize the phrase, "stunned silence."

The rest of the family stayed with friends while my granddaughter, her cat, and I camped out in my motorhome.  This continued for three days.  Our eyes were glued to the around the clock tv coverage and the latest updates.  Even after we had been pretty much assured that their home was fine, we were still on guard as to when we would be allowed back home, and what had happened with their friend's homes.  It was an ongoing emotional roller coaster, with memories we will never forget.

In the end the Black Forest Fire as it was appropriately named, burned nearly 16,000 acres, destroyed over 500 homes, and killed two people and over 41,000 people had been evacuated.  The fire was ultimately contained about two miles from my son's home.  I gained an entirely new appreciation for fighters and the dedication they have for helping.  They truly put their lives on the line to help people they don't even know.

The following are random stories that keep rolling around in my memories.
  • The firefighter who found a family dog that had perished.  He took the time to properly bury the dog, mark the grave and leave a note for the family when they returned.
  • The unknown firemen who had obviously saved a friend's home by taking their garden hose and fighting the fire up to within a foot the their house.
  • The boy who was watering the mulch around the turkey pen as the rest of the family prepared to evacuate.  They came back to find their home gone but several of the turkeys had survived.
  • The people who saw their home listed as ok, only to come home to find their large shed intact and their home gone.  After a short drive through part of the burned area I can understand how the mistake could have been made.  In many cases there is no pile of rubble left, the home has literally burned to the ground.
  • More than one person described coming home to find that aluminum in siding or vehicles had actually melted from the heat and run across the ground.
  • It became personal when my grandsons' scoutmaster and his family lost their home as did other family friends.
I had never worn the term evacuee before, but it is now part of my long list of experiences and one I hope I never have have to repeat.  I will, however, have much more empathy when I read about people who have been suddenly evacuated because of various threats.  My story has a happy ending and many others will not.

THANK YOU FIREFIGHTERS!

2 comments:

  1. Wow, Sue. This was a wonderful post. I could feel what you were going through from your words.

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