My Evacuation Story
A slight breeze caresses individual flakes falling silent and calm drifting and landing swirling all around lodging on doors and windows. Cotton clouds fall, kissing the eucalyptus tree tops and sweet grasslands, coating the ground like downy feathers abandoned by geese soaring overhead in an instinctual V-shaped pattern. Their stark silhouette is a warning—an exit arrow in the ominous, ashen sky above.
The Thomas Fire.
Through the haze, a brimstone flame explodes in size and appetite, as it races along the dry, smoldering soil and forces all in its path to flee. We are banished from the lush Mediterranean like gardens of Carpinteria and thrust into chaos-into a deadly maze of uncertainty and fear-unsure of where to turn or where to go. In the turmoil, the windshield wipers bat away at clumps of falling ash, which in turn fight to stay airborne.
While the Southbound geese fly home, we drive North, desperately fleeing our sanctuary, as the flames of the largest wildfire in California’s recorded history engulf the hills around us.
The Thomas Fire.
After three hours of white-knuckle driving on the 101-overcrowded with desperate evacuees-we found temporary refuge in Buellton at the “Flying Flags RV Park,” where a menagerie of motor homes and sleek vintage Airstreams welcomed us. The newfound vagabonds included: professionals from Santa Barbara with their cats and dogs; Ojai ranchers with their goats (and a llama); and us, a faculty family evacuated from Cate Boarding School with three chickens. That night, the park hosts ironically lit a gas-fueled campfire, and we gathered together: toasting smores and sharing our stories along with hopes and fears of what was to come. If it were not for the smokey, ashy air and the dire circumstances, it would have been an exciting vacation with spectacular sunsets and colorful company.
Shangrila lasted only two days before we were forced to flee again, as another impending fire drew near. This time, we headed much further North-out of the fire’s immediate path. We ventured to the Bay Area to stay with family-until it would be safe to return home. While this was the respite we needed to recuperate, we were constantly thinking about Uncle Spencer and the other firefighters.
We were blessed that the firefighters deployed to Cate School saved our home, school, and community. Others were not as fortunate. Many of the Ojai ranchers we had met lost their farms, and more tragically, dear friends from school not only lost their homes but lost parents in the Montecito mudslides, which happened after the fires were contained. I started the California Wildfire Aid site to guide people to how best help disaster victims rebuild their lives. Click on the link to learn “4 Ways to Help.”
Or, you can offer hope and help by “Taking Action” now!