THE THOMAS FIRE

 THE THOMAS FIRE

I just heard the fire alarm sound in our tiny town of Ridgway, Colorado.  It brought back the vision of the Thomas Fire that started a month ago above Ventura, California, and quickly spread towards Carpinteria, Summerland, Montecito, and Santa Barbara.  As I write this on January 4,2018, the fire is 92% contained.  Over the past month it has burned over 281,893 acres, destroyed 1,063 homes and other structures, and damaged 280 more.  It is now the largest wildfire in California's recorded history.  Because it has been so extensively covered by the news media, and all the photos belong to the news media and others, I'll refrain from describing the fire itself and tell you our story.

Noozhawk photo of the fire burning toward the beach

We were spending November and part of December at Nori's home in Montecito when we heard the news of the fire.  Nori immediately recognized how significant it was, even though it was approximately 22 miles to the east of us.  In just the first day it had swept from the mountains down into Ventura, burned hundreds of homes on it's path to the ocean, then headed east.  The smoke was dense; ash fell from the air like snow.  The city had several distribution centers for face masks to protect lungs from the harmful microscopic particles that filled the air. We wore the N95 masks whenever we were outdoors. Nori started to make plans for evacuation: we made a mental inventory of the precious items in the house and made arrangements to stay with her friend, Melinda, in Goleta, about 10 miles further to the west.

It didn't take long.  By Friday we were notified by our cell phones, radio, and television that we were in the "Voluntary Evacuation Zone". On Sunday the "Mandatory Evacuation" order came, so we loaded up the truck and the car with all the artwork, important papers, computers, and personal effects we had brought with us from Colorado.  We were the lucky ones, because we had time to prepare and weren't hit with a rushing fire.  Initially I was not too worried, because there was a great presence of fire fighters in the area ready to protect the dwellings.  The news reported that over 7,000 firefighters, 700 fire engines, 30 plus helicopters, two DC-10 aircraft, a number of C-130 planes, and a super-tanker from Colorado were dropping slurry and water on the fire.

Nori holding Sheyshey and wearing a N95 mask leaves the house.

Notice she is standing in the ashes that are falling like snow.

We lasted three more days, watching television nonstop to keep abreast of the fire and it's progress.  Melinda was a great friend to us and let us have run of her home.  We went to the gym and exercised, afraid to breath the toxic air outdoors.  We went to the movies and saw Coco to take our mind off the flames and horror in the mountains near us.  Finally, after listening to the Public Health doctor every day warn that all children and elder folks over 65 should leave the area to avoid long term damage to their lungs, we packed up our car and truck, left our valuables with Melinda, and drove home to Colorado.  The smoke was thick as we left town, and I actually wore my N95 mask in the truck as I drove.  As we left Montecito I looked out the window and saw that the entire mountainside along highway 101 was burned to ashes.  Hardly a tree stump remained due to the intense heat of the fire, and the destruction continued on my left as I drove east for the next hour.  All ashes.

The ash covered hills above Rincon and Faria beaches as we drove Hwy 101

Nori land I arrived back in Ridgway the next Friday evening, trying to forget that the flames were still burning strongly towards Montecito, and that her home had burned 40 years ago.  Tall eucalyptus trees a hundred feet high were waiting like giant matchsticks in the back yard.  The old coastal oak tree spread its branches over the house.  On Sunday the local television station, KEYT, announced that it would be a "Red Flag" weather day with wind gusts up to 65 MPH down the hillside into Montecito.   We sat in front of the computer watching KEYT live coverage all day as the fire approached at high speed to within less than a mile of the house, resigned that it would be lost.  Again, we were the lucky ones, because there were over 5,000 firefighters and 500 engines in the neighborhood battling the fire on East Mountain Drive just above the house.  By the time Sunday had ended, the winds had subsided, and we breathed a small sigh of relief. 

However it was still not over.  The mandatory evacuation order was still in effect, the fire was not contained.  Still burning strongly in the back country, we could see the flames and smoke on the computer screen.  It wasn't for several more days until the order was lifted and the house was out of danger.  It had beaten the Grim Reaper...this time.