The Fire This Time

In October of 2017, a series of Firestorms were created by high winds and dry conditions in Northern California. (Later in Southern California, too).  My husband and I lived in a working class neighborhood in Santa Rosa California referred to as Coffey Park which was a couple  of developments surrounding the eponymous park.  About 9:45 pm Sunday night, October 8th, a fire started in Napa County, adjacent to Sonoma County, some 19 miles from our house.  The winds were Easterly at about 50 miles an hour and gusting to over 70 miles an hour.  These winds drove the fire through a valley, over a mountain ridge and across a six lane highway to get to our house.  We were not alone.  According to the Cal Fire report this fire destroyed 5,636 structures and damaged 317 more. Our house went up about 3:30 am on Monday, October 9th.  We’d left about 2:30 AM with our firebox, the clothes we were wearing, some candy bars, our meds and our cell phones.  We didn’t take my wedding ring, the 150 live performance programs, nor the artwork on the walls along with the other 10,000 or so things in the house.  We were pretty sure we’d be back later.  Oh, and 10,000 things really isn’t all that much when you start adding up socks, swimsuits, and the spices in the kitchen (we had a tea drawer widely admired by our tea loving friends).  

This house cleaning spawned some writing and that’s what is in the book, The Fire This Time. 

Here’s the recitative on our first night’s escape and experience, and the last tipi references the native tradition of telling your tale at each tipi in the village, and then, after you’ve told them all, you are done.  Those of us from the Abraham-Hicks school of the Law of Attraction understand how important it is to stop summoning that experience and to summon that which we want to follow. 

So, the Fire this Time 3--How it went down.

About 10ish Sunday night (10/8/17) we had the windows open--we like to sleep in a cool house, OK a cold house for most folks.  We smelled some smoke and even commented on WHO would be burning a wood fire on a warmish night like this.  The wind was just kicking up, and we knew the forecast was for winds in the 50 plus MPH range.

About 11 we started to head towards sleep and were out by midnight--our newly-retired-folks normal.

At 2 AM we both woke up.  Now some will say it was the wind blowing hard that got us, but I know our Guides went tap, tap, tap.  So, we’re lying in bed and noting the wind, and boy that smell of smoke is a lot stronger.  After a minute or so, we decide we should get up and get dressed just in case.  

A momentary bifurcation in our shared narrative: 

I head to the loo for what loos are intended, and then to restoring the various prosthetic devices and aids my aging body is err to.  Tim tosses on a robe and, barefoot, walks out the south-ish facing front door to see what’s up.  All of our immediate neighbors are what is up, as is whirling winds of striking velocity, and a bright orange haze in the northern sky.  I start to dress, deciding to wear my boots in case it’s not friendly territory ahead.  I’m not sure where Tim is at the moment that the doorbell rings. Tim doesn’t answer, so I interrupt my dressing routine and go to the door where neighbor Dottie reports that her daughter who works for the Sheriff’s office, says we should evacuate.  I yell that out for Tim who is magically back in the master bedroom dressing.

I pivot into the office, grab the Outback keys and the “safe” that Tim’s parents gave to each of their kids some 30 years ago. It’s heavy but has our vital papers.  I grab the password file from the file drawer and head to the garage.  Once the door is open, I load my bounty in the Outback’s rear compartment.  Back in the house, we call our longtime and now neighborhood pal, Michael O’Rand and decide to meet up at the Finley Evacuation Center at Marlow and College (Ky, his husband, is in Montana caring for his parents).  I grab my backpack, my Chromebook (and its charger cable!) throw in our meds, but not the vitamins and supplements, toss in some Kind bars (SNAAAACKS!) and we confirm with one another that the Outback is the better car choice should the power go down--the other car is our three month old, all electric  Chevrolet Bolt. We aren’t going in separate cars, (and the unspoken presumption is that we’re coming back shortly anyway, right?)

As we pull away from the house, the northern glow is now more red, quite bright and the neighbor’s house at the end of the block is fully dark.  We don’t really know them, but stop the car, ring their doorbell which someone answers.  We tell them it’s time to go.  

When we hit Coffey Street there’s a solid line of traffic, but the first person who can, makes space for us to pull into line.  This is Sonoma County, this is Santa Rosa, this is California.

As we pull into the parking lot at the Finley Center, magically, we see Michael just getting out of his car, so we get to all meet up and go inside.  We sign in, it’s somewhere around 3AM.

The folks at the Finley Center are amazing.  There’s a sign in table (so they can know who’s missing and who is found). One room is laid out with all the gym mats on the floor so that families with kids can have a place to lie down, another room is set up for olds, while folks with pets are everywhere.  There’s a gal in her nightgown (and I in my cap) who fled the Hilton with nothing but that.  Ky and Mike’s friend Neva joins us.  At one point the folks come through asking for our chairs because they evacuated a senior home and need chairs.  (They don’t all get taken, so we’re back in chairs shortly).  

Amidst the calm diaspora, we meet a couple of couples: one that just got engaged in a hot air balloon on Sunday, and another whose twins are both in school in Montreal or Toronto, I can’t recall which now, but they get calls from them because the youngen’s are watching the fires on TV.  That’s when we first learn how amazing it all is.  It’s when we first suspect that our house really could be gone.  

As the morning rolls along, the folks at the Center announce in each of the sprawling rooms and halls of the Center that the Fire Department says we are safe for now.  Curious as to why that needed to be said, I went outside and took the picture of the fire in the not so far distance that is posted here.(See below Finley Evacuation Center Picture)

Somewhere in the wait, we eat the Kind bars, each of us most grateful for the SNAAAACKS!  There’s water but little else, though there are promises of some protein bars or such food to come.

We three, Mikey, Tim and I go in search of breakfast, but surprise, surprise NOTHING is open.  The scope begins to dawn upon us each more clearly, though nothing is spoken.  We end up at Oliver’s (the local Whole Foods equivalent, but not the Whole Foods) where we are able to get some food, even though the hot food folks are buried with little staff to prep anything.

As we eat at the outside table (see picture…), the Oliver’s staff start a customer line to control the number of folks inside to correspond to the short-handed staff that’s made it in.

We all headed to Michael (a different Michael) and Sue B’s house.  They greeted us with a safe haven and fed us lunch.  While Mikey napped, Tim and I headed back over to the ‘hood.  We couldn’t drive in, but we did walk in past the broken gas line torches flaming amidst the ash and bubbling water lines.  Nothing much else was left and we confirmed that our house was gone (See picture below Ashes to Ashes).  Much to our delight, Ky and Michael’s house stood on the other side of Coffey, untouched!  We took a picture and sent it’s happy news to Ky in Montana and Mikey at Sue and Michael's.

They fed us all dinner along with Michael B's mother, sister, her husband and two kids.  They made beds for us all and we slept.

Tuesday, Julee C invited Tim and me to her house, where we are safe and sound now (when this was written).  The first few days we did have our bags by the door as the fires continued and Julee’s place was in a voluntary evacuation zone.  Eventually, the Firefighters got the upper hand.  We got our super high speed internet, another computer and launched our Clean Slate/Traveling Light sorties to sift the ash, meet the adjusters, make Amazon richer and gaze out upon a whole new world.

Gateway to the mystery.

October, 2017